First things first.

Yesterday was spent spinning out of control. My BP, at one point, was 174/120. No wonder I felt like I was dying.

It’s amazing to me today how my mind can turn on me. I am living so far in the future which illuminates fears I didn’t think I had. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to live in today and trust in my HP that things are going to be okay for me, and for my loved one, down the road.

Going to take it easy today and pray, pray, pray.

Going to meditate, meditate, meditate.

Going to talk to others about what’s going on, real or imagined, hoping to take the power out of the fears.

Going to do just what I can today. Hopefully let go, and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

First things first. A doctor’s appointment this afternoon to tackle the immediate, life-threatening physiological symptoms. The rest will come after my body is somewhat out of danger, and not adding to my emotional state.

Kind of reminds me of earlier days…don’t take a drink, no matter what, and then start the real work of recovery.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Can you repeat that please?

I had the fabulous, unexpected pleasure to Skype with my son today. I love Skype! It gives me the opportunity to actually see my son, his facial expressions, and his hand gestures. He’s very expressive and has a sense of humor that just doesn’t stop. At times it takes my breath away how much he resembles his father. I said this to him once. I will not repeat that mistake, at least until he has time to heal his own wounds.

As it often happens, we talk about some very unlikely things for a mother and son. I feel tremendously blessed that we have such diversity in our talks, especially considering where our relationship was just a short time ago. When I replay our conversations in my head later, frequently I am flabbergasted by the depths we reach. He is as curious about my recovery as I am about his new Navy endeavor. Few topics are off limits.

Today, I talked to him about a series of dreams I have been having this week about his father. The subject matter was sensitive, and since he was in his room with his shipmates, he decided to put his earphones on for privacy. (Good move, son.) The dreams all have a theme so getting to the heart of the matter was simple enough. I did not offer graphic detail, but he is familiar enough with the symbolism in the dreams and how those things were (are) significant to both (all) of us. Before he spoke, he lowered his chin and stared directly into the webcam. Immediately I felt tears sting my eyes when he voiced his response.

“Have you talked to your sponsor about this?”

There have been many times, like this, where my pride in this young man is overwhelming. He has attended meetings with me, discussed attending meetings as support for me with his superior officer, educated shipmates about the “disease” of alcoholism not being about choice, but about what alcohol does for (and to) a person. When did this happen? When did he cross that line of contempt for me and what I had done to our family, to understanding the basic tools of my survival? When did he become a champion for the cause of alcoholism as a disease and not a moral issue?

I don’t think I will pursue the answers to these (and many more) questions. This is definitely a gift from God. I will merely say a prayer of thanks.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

It's on the shelf where I put it.

My firstborn child, a daughter, called this morning. What a joy! I was planning on calling her later in the day, after the race. While it’s not unusual for her to reach out, the fact that she was doing so on the very day I planned to call her, without pre-arranging via text, was a sign I should turn off the TV and turn my attention to her.

As usual, we talked about a variety of things. She’s a junior in college and not only well informed on many topics, but just plain fun. She is well read, and a gifted musician and writer. She’s also street wise and had to grow up very quickly when my disease put on its running shoes. Our conversations are always interesting. I do tread lightly at times because her pain over the hardships she suffered at my hand is often palpable. Lately she has let me see that she has comforting memories that affect her positively, even now. It touches me deeply that she can reveal these things to me. It didn’t used to be that way. She’s opening up and I couldn’t be more grateful.

When I suggested she make contact with her brother (to check his liberty schedule) when she travels to within driving distance of where he is stationed next month, it opened a wound. She and her brother haven’t spoken since a disagreement they had over the New Year’s holiday. I had no idea. (This is actually a triumph that indicates I’m fairly successful in keeping our chats focused on who I am talking to at the time.) I know only bits and pieces but did not pry. I wanted to…yes, I wanted to meddle. But this is between them.

My mother’s heart aches for time lost. Her pain is obvious when she talks about this rift between them. What I wanted to say is that this is silly. That life is too short. That no matter what, they are siblings and in the end, family is what matters. I wanted to say so much, but didn’t. What I did say was that as their mom, of course I would like them to reconcile, but that in the end, they needed to work through this themselves,and if she wanted to talk about it, I'd listen. When I think about it now, I think I may have meddled after all. I did tell her that he once told me that before he left for boot camp, they had become close, and it was her absence at his graduation that disappointed him the most. I wish I hadn’t done that. I now realize I was attempting to tug at her heart strings. Manipulating. (My nephews would recognize this and say to her: “Pack your bags, you’re goin’ on a guilt trip!”) And my motives are difficult to accept. I wanted to fix their relationship to feel good about me.

Enter: my own codependency issues. I guess it’s time to take a certain suggestion down from the shelf, dust it off, and step into another phase of my recovery. Why doesn’t this surprise me?

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.