A Few Things That Bring Gratitude

Happy Thanksgiving morning y'all.

I am grateful:

• That Thanksgiving will be at my daughters this year and I don't have to clean house this morning.
• That my husband won't be deep frying a turkey in the back yard and setting the grass on fire.
• That I did not have to beg last night for a Wednesday night chairperson for the month of December. Quite a few people raised their hands.
• That I am not one of the many who have to spend the day with family members they don't like.
• That I am not one of the many who will spend Thanksgiving alone in self pity and despair.
• That one night I sat down at the computer and somehow found out there was a thing called blogging and I looked up the only topic that I really cared to read about and that was "sobriety". It lead me to all you guys. Thank you for being out there.
• I am grateful for the crack pipe (we so crudely called a glass dick). It threw me off the roller coaster of addiction smack dab on my face, then left me wallowing in the mud for days before I looked up and asked God to help me.
• That although I did not know it at the time, I completely surrendered on that night. That surrender allowed me to be free of the obsession long enough to work the beautiful steps and be completely free to walk the same planet as everyone else.

Happy Thanksgiving..........wear stretch pants today!

Randomolious

• You know how I was banned for life from one of our local bars for thinking it was a great idea to bend over the pool table and try to drop my breast down into the corner pocket during the final rounds of a 16 week pool tournament right? Well part of that bar is a restaurant and I went in there for lunch yesterday with some co-workers and the law did not come haul me away. I guess they did not recognize me sober and with my tits covered up.
  
• I don't care much for Thanksgiving but I wish I did. I make an excellent honey and orange spiral ham but everyone is used to it so there is no "ta-da" to it anymore.
  
• There is a guy at work who laughs just like Woody Woodpecker and it is very disturbing to listen to.
  
• My father in law sips about 1/2 inch of Beefeaters over ice before going to bed at night. I never liked gin at all but I find it so fascinating that someone would want about a 1/2 inch of booze. Size does matter.
  
• I visited with an old friend for about an hour over the weekend. It felt good to sit in her kitchen and talk. I had not seen her for about a year. A few things she talked about just did not ring true to me and I remembered why I don't like to visit with her.
  

Enjoy Wednesday . It can be an awesome day with the right tools......hey, I have those tools!!!!

Pammie

A Little Something Missing

I want to have a conversation with Mama about a few things and it hurts that I can not. I wonder why she hid in the bathroom to cry when our dog PJ died forty something years ago? It would have been OK to cry in front of me. That is not the conversation I want to have, just a passing thought.

I want something but I don't know what it is. I understand over eating when I feel this "something missing" thing going on. Because hey, maybe I'm missing that full feeling, satisfied feeling. I used to love a joint when I had this feeling or a movie or a trip to the bar or liquor store. Anything to erase the "something is missing" feeling. Funny, now it's just a plain ol' feeling that I don't have address at all, I can just carry on with my day and it will pass. If it does not pass then I can do some serious step work on it or I can start talking to someone about it or I can pray and meditate on it, or I can do some 12th step work and get out of myself completely. It's just a feeling.

I'm grateful today for ways to work around my "thinking". When my brain reaches for the worse case scenario in every event, I can say WHOA....slow your roll there girl. Well I don't know if I have actually said "slow your roll" to myself but something similar.

I am ready for Tuesday. I hope it is ready for me.

Pammie

I Love Me Some Crazy People

I spoke on the phone with one of my sponsees last night for a long time. When we hung up I had this feeling of overwhelming gratitude and joy. I picked her up as a sponsee 20 months ago on her first day out of jail. She was a street prostitute and had been off of heroin for four months due to being incarcerated. She is the most amazing woman today. So full of God and service work. She holds three part time jobs, lives in a home for ex felons, drives a bus full of women from a county re-hab to church every Sunday morning and sponsors other women off the street. When God put her in my path I just looked up to heaven, rolled my eyes and said "Oh surely you're kidding me God right?" I count her as one of the biggest blessings of my life. I have learned more from her than any other sponsee in all my years of sponsoring women. When I look at her I see God in action.

When a woman shows the face of true desperation, we get them to God as quickly as possible. We don't give them a reading assignment and a phone number and walk away. We work our 12th step right then and there in the same way we would not go to bed without reviewing our day or saying our prayers. But here I have to concede that the face of true desperation, the person standing at the jumping off place "may not" be discernible to someone who does not have a lot of sober experience. I forget sometimes that we are all at different places on Gods path and maybe the "burden" or "burning desire" to 12th step is not placed on the hearts of everyone. But he placed it in mine. He placed the burden so heavy on my heart that I leave meetings and sit in my car and cry for people that I don't even know because I have a solution for desperately hurting people who more times than not......don't even want it.

I love me some crazy people......I just l-o-v-e them.

Smoochie love
Pammie

Processing

I'm tired this morning. I've been eating constantly since my in laws came to town and after two weeks of dieting it has made me feel yuck. I'm enjoying their company so much.

I'm tired of ranting on my blog. No, not really tired of it just frustrated somewhat. My love, my passion at times comes out as anger or condemnation. I don't know why that is. The same holds true for politics. When I feel passionate about something I always wonder why "you" can't understand it from the same context as me. I have trouble seeing that you have your own opinion, I see it automatically as the wrong opinion. This is something I have struggled with for years. I feel that certain things are on "my watch." The program, Texas, my country, my family. I feel that during "my watch", I must do every thing to secure it's continuation. I realize of course that I don't control any of these things but I feel so responsible to make a stand, to somehow "stand for" something. This is just fundamentally monumentally important to me.

My fear has always been for the new guy coming in off the street. The one who walks into his first meeting filled to the brim with self loathing and fear. The one who may hear some kind of bullshit like "I choose every single day not to use for that day." This is the man who has been trying for 20 years to choose not to drink or shoot heroin or smoke crack. He has no power to choose. This breaks my heart.....it truly breaks my heart.

I see people get beautiful new lives every day of the week and yet still sit in meetings-taking, taking, taking. Dumping their woes and problems on the group. And the guy in the back sits waiting to hear the solution.

What do I do about this? How do I fix it? I don't have a clue but for some reason it is so cathartic for me to write about it here.

Pammie

1/2 Talk - 1/2 Rant

My in laws came in last night for a weekend visit. My house was clean except for two closets that I hid stuff in. We sat at the breakfast table and talked for hours. It was so nice. I made a chicken noodle casserole for an easy late evening supper and it was delicious. Of course cooking around the holidays with real butter and cream seem to make everything taste good.

Ms. SoberPants seems to have gotten out of her funk somewhat. She moved all the furniture to different rooms yesterday in mothers house and all by herself. She weighs 105lbs. and I have no idea how she did it. She told me she was kind of worried that when her fiance got home he was going to think she had another man in the house helping her. Her son (my only grandchild) comes in from Dallas today for a one week visit. He is 10 years old and this will be the first time that she will bring into a home that is hers. She has never had her own place for him to come stay with her. She is overwhelmed with gratitude about that. She said the "gift" of that feeling is what helped her get out of the house and find a solution to her isolation.

Speaking of yesterdays post (weren't we?) on accepting the truth of our program as written, I will not accept that some folks feel "different" and they have adapted the program to fit their feelings. Hell, don't y'all think that thumpers like myself realize that for some people the life they have now is tremendously better than what they had? That this program did in fact lead them to a God of their understanding, enabled them to hold a job, support their families, get out of the gutter, live a life of meaning and substance? Of course I realize that. I'm not blind, I see it every single day. But I know that our program will not survive on the sponsorship of people who pick and choose how they want to work the program that has written precise instructions. I can not and will not apologize for staying in the trenches. This program will always help (as our text refers to) the "moderate", "heavy" and the "real alcoholic". But it was meant ONLY for the "real alcoholic". It tells us to "qualify" the person we are working with. Can I help what the text book says? NO, can I re-write it to fit what is more convenient for me? NO. I love lots of people dearly who work this program "their way" and I understand why they do. I see the miracles in their life. My bitch has always been for those beautiful people not to sponsor someone like me. Don't try to sponsor the books definition of a "real alcoholic" (not my words folks).

Crap....I can't seem to write properly what's in my heart. I love you all and want everyone to be helped. This is why there is no spokesperson for our program !!! LOL I thought I was elected president/omnipotent of the program.....must have been a dream.

Smoochie love
Pammie

Meeting Frustration Leading to Rant

I am off work today, if you are not then it sucks to be you. My in laws are coming down from Michigan for a weekend visit and lucky me, I love my in laws. I have plenty of time to clean house and grocery shop before their arrival.

Rant:

Pg. 45 says "Lack of power, that was our dilemma."
Pg. 132 says "We have recovered, and have been given the power to help others."

It bothers me in a meeting that is occupied by new comers, to hear a person who has worked the steps saying they are "recovering" or that they are "powerless." How does this give hope to the new comer? Why would anyone want to go to any length to remain powerless and never recover?

Why is it when we follow the dictates of the program from the text book, as written clearly and precisely, that others want to say "well that's your opinion". WTF?

Please don't tweak my beautiful program to suit you. Please don't mix treatment center ideology in with the text book. There are many excellent paths open to people who want to stop using alcohol and drugs. Please feel free to pick any one of them and live a clean and sober life. BUT the 12 step program path IS the way it IS. It is not prefaced with "please feel free to interpret this program in a way that is most convenient for you." I wish it said "if this is not the right program for you, we implore you to find one that is."

I can't imagine going to my place of employment everyday and doing my job "my way" without any regards to the fact that my company is 77 years old and has standards and procedures that were implemented years before I got there.

Ooooops off the topic here about giving the newcomer some HOPE. Explain the mental twist, the Spiritual Malady and that a Higher Power of their own choice will relieve them of the obsession and rocket them into a 4th dimension and that "we have recovered from a hopeless condition of mind and body."

Oh the difference prayer can make! Ms. SoberPants actually walked out of the house after four days and went for a drive. Her car magically made it to a meeting after an hour or so. I did not call her last night even though I wanted to as badly as I've wanted a drink before. Why? Because calling her is all about me wanting to hear her voice, wanting to make a suggestion of what she should do, wanting to fix her by showing my unending love and support. My obvious calls of "fear" do nothing to help her. Calling her is to "fix" me - not her. HEY, that's kinda sorta good Al-Anony, right?

Precious Mr. Ed (not to be confused with the talking horse) gave me the award that is circling around. It's the blue lion on my side bar. Thank you sweet man. A few years ago a stated that I would always write a short Ode to anyone giving me an award. It's sort of an "incentive program" I run here at Sobriety is Exhausting.

An Ode to ED G.

A sober man since '83
living by the principles is his key.
He writes of the program that I hold so dear
in our former lives we may have shared a beer.
If you ever feel at the end of your rope
go by his blog for experience, strength and hope.

I must pass the award on to 6 bloggers that I feel write some "powerful" posts. Some of you who I would pick have already been chosen by others, but that was not part of the criteria so I will be true to my picks. Mary in Africa, Mary Christine, Lou.

I'll have to think some more on the next three.

Lovin' my blogger peeps and all the good thoughts and prayers from yesterday!

Smoochie love,

Pammie

Me - Spewing

I must post in bullets today.

• I got up at 3:15am because I can not sleep but I wish now that I had tried harder.
• I'm worried sick about Ms. SoberPants, she is not doing well at all. I don't know that her sobriety is in jeopardy but she is sinking fast into a scary depression. There is no insurance and she has no job now that she is not caring for Mama.
• I've given her to God ----BUT---oh the big BUT.
• He is not telling me his plans for her.
• He is not moving as fast as I want him to.
• He is not keeping me informed of how she is doing at her house while I'm at my house.
• Do you know this big BUT ?
• Knowing all the stuff about "of course her world just got turned upside down", "of course she is grieving", of course the boyfriend has moved in and it's so unfamiliar".
• Yeah, yeah.....I know all of that and so does she.
• Her clinical issues are often times made worse by situational issues.
• Her anxiety is debilitating.
• OK (breath in God - breath out fear)
• I've never in all her 27 years been able to figure out the right/best way to help her.
• I've resorted to calling and texting constantly "You OK baby girl?"
• That does not help.
• I went over there at lunch yesterday and sat with her while she cried and threw up.
• I've played Doctor and told her to up her meds. (she goes to cheap GP). She has been in the Mental Health system since age 4 and we know all the meds.
• I'm overwhelmed with the feeling of helplessness.......again. Helpless with Mama and Ms. SoberPants.
• I feel guilty knowing that God will take care of me today. Knowing that I will be able to shower, dress, go to work and function.
• I feel guilty because I know she won't be able to do any of these.
• I know this will all pass, but it is here now on this day and this is the day I'm living in.
• Whew.........I'm through.
• Collective prayers please for Ms. SoberPants.
• I will walk with God today and take him with me to her house at lunch so that I can be strong enough to sit with her again and try to come up with a plan of action.
• I'm so very grateful to be her sober mother.

Tuesday Talk

I decided to put a couple of bags of "you're never going to fit into those jeans again" clothes together for donation. Since my husband lost his job in June, we can not afford to make some of our normal holiday donations so I'm trying to be creative in ways to give. There are a lot of places in Houston to take clothing and household good donations so I'm trying to go through every closet and cabinet to find ways to "give."

Anyway, I came across this green pullover jacket thing that my husband loves and I said "honey, I'm putting this in a donation stack because it has shrunk through the years and it is too short for you." "By who's standards?" he asked. Oh good grief I knew what was coming, the man will put the last teaspoon of butter in a zip lock bag. "By the world commission of shirt authorities!" I say. "Give me their email address and I'll ask for the official measurement for shirt lengths!" he replies. I'll just put it in the bag and he'll never know.

Giving of "stuff" is so much easier than giving of our "time" but the rewards aren't nearly as great. I think it's important to remember though that there are a lot of people out there who really don't give a damn about your time, they just need a warm pair of socks today. They don't care about your spiritual fitness they need some toilet paper.


Pammie

Pam Shows Her Bo-Hiney

I showed my butt at a meeting last night. We have a member I'll call Mr. AssholePants and he and I got into a heated debate before the meeting about "meeting politics". I told him twice that I was not up for the conversation because my feelings were very tender right now and that I was starting to take all his comments personally. He just kept on. I did not know what to do so I got up (admittedly-kind of dramatically) and walked out. Several members followed me out side to remind me that he was an asshole and not to let his crap get to me. I felt embarrassed by walking out but I went back in sat thru the meeting and then had to sit thru (and lead) the group conscious afterward. Mr. AssholePants started his stuff again during the group conscious but I had prayed quite a bit during the meeting about my behavior and it all went well.

I can not be of maximum service to God if I start taking the behavior of alcoholics and addicts as personal affronts. It's not all about me even if it feels that it is. I am not comfortable with all these raw feelings. I have learned from experience that there is always joy in what God leads us through but we damn sure better be looking for it because it is not always evident in the beginning.

I shot my bow and arrow yesterday until my shoulder started hurting. It is a solitary activity that I love and it seems to rest my mind. I shoot with a re-curve bow, not a compound--if you're interested.

Pammie

Conversation With Estelle

I spent an hour on the phone last night with Mothers best friend, Estelle. I wanted some reassurance about a few things and it was just like talking to Mama. She has always referred to Mama as the "baby girl" because she was the youngest in their posse of four-Estelle, Dixie, Sue and Mama.

I wanted to know if they thought the funeral was "good enough" if the flowers were "pretty enough" and so on. Estelle said that she and the girls had talked of nothing else all week except how beautiful Mothers funeral was. This settled something in my spirit that I had indeed fulfilled an obligation as a good daughter.

I told her our trouble of not knowing what to do with Mothers possessions and that it felt disrespectful to even remove one item of clothing from her closet. Estelle said "Pam, your Mother has no possessions at all. Do you think that she is sitting somewhere right now worrying about that navy blue jacket, or those cups and saucers on her buffet table?"

I needed permission from Mamas best friend to move forward and she gave it to me. What a blessing that phone call was. She added that I should get rid of that hideous painting in the living room that Dixie had given her since everyone knows that Dixie has absolutely no taste and they all had something ugly hanging in their house from her.

I think I need to be mindful that I am the "older woman" to a lot of young woman out there, and that I do indeed have the power at times to ease someones spirit with words of acceptance, encouragement and plain old Southern Wisdom.

Pammie

I Don't Know

My Mother had her home phone number for 55 years. Ms. SoberPants is thinking that she doesn't really need that land line. I feel all kinds of odd panic about cancelling Mothers phone service. The same number for 55 years seems like some sort of achievement and should be honored in some way. I don't think this is really rational of me, but it seems so finale to lose that phone number.

Today is my once a month Area meeting way across town. Unless you live in a city as large as Houston, "way across town" may not mean much to you.

• It seems amazing to me that everyone in the world looks different, even though we all have the basic mouth-nose-eyes combo.
• How can there be so many different interpretations of right and wrong?
• How do we go completely unconscious for 8 hours a day and really never talk about how crazy weird that is?

One of the odd changes in my life since Mama died is that I don't want to talk to people. I've always been a talker but lately I avoid phone calls and don't socialize with my co-workers at all. I have carried my purse with me to the prayer circle after every meeting this week in order to duck out the door before the mingling started. On the drive home I get calls wondering what happened to me after the meeting and I'm letting those calls go to voice mail. I don't feel like using the air to talk.......I have no idea what that is about.

Hey, I'm glad I just wrote that paragraph. It was like talk-typing, I don't see it as a red flag, but perhaps orange. A small warning that I am isolating.

This post is getting to long and I need to hit the shower.

Pammie

Friday Bullets

• Every other month on the 2nd Thursday, eight of us get together and discuss two traditions and two concepts. Last night was that meeting. It was on 4 & 5 and it lasted two hours and was invigorating.
• My in laws are coming one week from today for a weekend visit. If you have any free time on your hands, please please come by my house this week and help me clean.
• I'm pissed off that I could stay outside until 9:00pm last month and now it's dark at 6:30pm.
• I dyed my hair a light brown. I don't know why, so don't ask me.
• A bunch of my co-workers are going out tonight after work to a near by bar. They like to drink beer and talk. I never go because I don't like to drink beer and talk, I like to drink beer and dance, holler, drive fast, drive far, run to the ATM, find the dope man, go back to the bar, stir up some drama, run back to the ATM, find the dope man....etc.
• It is time to hit the shower, do my prayer and meditation and go to work.
• I'm grateful for my morning routine - blog/coffee - shower - pray/listen - earn a living.

Pammie

I Don't Know-Just Typing My Morning Thoughts

I read a couple of very sad alanon blogs this morning. I wonder if alanons have a harder time dealing with repeated disappointment than the average person. If someone "slights" the alcoholic it turns into a huge festering resentment that causes all kinds of problems. I wonder if when someones life/choices/illness disappoints an alanon, if that doesn't fester into something huge as well. I'm not minimizing, just pondering. I am after all, on both sides of the fence.

I do know that when I was weeping for my children and feeling so sorry for them and the mess they had made of their lives, they were out having a really great time.

I do know that not one single "word" besides "love" EVER made a difference in their behavior.

I do know that if I give my son $1000. today to get out of a current jam, he will be in another one three months from now.

I have a good heart. A decent loving good heart and I always have, but when I was using I never gave my parents are children a single thought. My family's pain was always second to my addiction. I did not know that peoples lives and hearts were tangled up in mine.

I made my daughters addiction all about me. I tried hundreds of ways to "reach her" to "change her environment" to "change her meds" to change "heart". In the end she looked at me and softly said "Mama, this really isn't about you."

When my son turned 21 I decided to let him choose his own life's path whatever that may be. I wish I had been able to do this with my daughter because he is doing the same things she did but without all my pain mixed in the middle.

In the end, I believe we are all going to do exactly what we want to do. I believe this because it is basically the way everyone I know lives their life. I don't know a single person that says "I don't like my life but it's what my mama wanted."

As always, I could be completely wrong....k?

Pammie

My Train of Thoughts Have Jumped the Track

I've noticed that I say things twice, sort of re-framing it in case my conversation partner did not quite get the impact of what I was saying the first time. That must annoy the hell out of people. I'm going to work on that.

Have you ever used the term muckity muck? "He's a big shot muckity muck in his company."

For some reason that term just makes me cringe. Let's never say that K?

Yesterday, I was suddenly struck dumb about whether or not there are any fat grams in a banana. I instinctively dialed Mamas' number to ask her because fat gram counts are her area of expertise. That was a little pin prick hurt.

You know the story of Jim on pg. 36 of our beautiful book? He's the one who poured whiskey into his milk. Anyway, he begins his story with "I came to work on Tuesday morning." Am I the only one who wants to know what happened on Monday? That always drives me crazy.

OK my fellow Bloggodelias I'm off to the shower and hopefully I can get a consistent train of thought going. I am thinking that this day could bring enormous amounts of joy if I just set out on the path of good will for my fellows and a heart centered in gratitude and service.

Pammie

Spirit of Thankfulness

I was so exhausted after my first day back at work that I went to bed at 7:30 last night.

Note to self: When someones Mother dies, don't hang around in their office for 10 minutes talking because ten others have done that before you.

I don't know if I'm all "numby" inside or if I am simply riding on the spirit of thankfulness. One way or the other, my heart does not hurt. I'm really trying not to examine that too close and just be grateful that God has chosen to spread his loving balm of peace on my spirit.

Today I am grateful:

• That my sobriety is not contingent on a painless life or sorrow-free days.
• That a loving God scooped me up from the mire of addiction and cleaned me up.
• That when the hospice nurses counted the deloted, methadone, morphine and lorazipam it all came out exactly on the money.
• That returning to work yesterday was a return to work I love.
• That I got to spend five days with my brother and his wife, who is more like a sister than an in law.
• That even though there were a few uncomfortable people in the room, I provided my Mother with the Baptist preaching, Baptist singing funeral that she wanted.
• That in the end, I was able to see the "woman" under all that Mama.

Pammie

Random Randomness

• Oh crap, I forgot that I wanted to take a nap this weekend. I want it now.
• I have been off work for over a week. I'm kinda, sorta afraid to go in.
• I am starting my diet today. Don't give me any crap about it either.
• I went to my home group last night after being away for 2 weeks. It seemed like a sick group of drug addicts to me. Members of the group were walking out of the meeting after the prayer as if there weren't two people who shared about being new and not knowing what the hell they were supposed to do. I just wanted to holler "are you shittin' me? Go back and share some experience, strength and hope with those lost fools."
• I'm dreading the day at work with people saying "so sorry to hear about your Mother Pam."
• I'm thinking that in a few weeks I may post a few of her recipes. She did not have any for squid though (Mary and Syd). We consider squid as bait down here.
• God has been so accustomed to sitting with me in Mama's house that he is probably dreading all the hub-bub at my office today as well.

Pammie

Sunday Morning

Funny, I thought I would start writing today about the intensity of life leading to Mothers' passing but no, I'm just not ready to do all that yet.

I will tell you that Ms. SoberPants and Ms. FancyPants and I stood for 15 hours telling her it was OK to fly away...."take your wings and fly Mama." She did not. My brother and his wonderful wife made it in from North Carolina and he told her he was home and she could fly away. We all stood together at the bed.......and she did.

I made it to only one meeting during all this time and I did not hear a word that was being said. I just knew I needed to get back to Mother. I'm very anxious to make it to my 5:30 home group today. I was supposed to speak tomorrow night in a small town outside of Houston, but I have found someone to replace me, I'm just not up to that right now and I know I will be exhausted after my first day back to work.

How wonderful it has been to catch up on the lives of my blogger peeps. I have missed my little space in this community.

I wish to add a promise to our original 12, that it is absolutely a promise "that God could and would if he were sought." It has been so awesome to be carried through all of this by such a loving God.

Pammie

11 Days is a long ass time

I'm finally back home after 11 days with Mama.

I will of course write about it all later. We buried Mama yesterday by my father and oh how odd it felt to walk away from both my parents as we left the cemetery.

It was an awesome, awful, wonderful, scary, beautiful 11 days.

I have also been off of work during this time as well and I have no idea what is going on in the world. I forgot how nice it can be for awhile to be away from TV, Computers and most modern conveniences.

I feel at peace in my spirit, but I already miss her.

I will sit down tomorrow and blog, but I wanted to tell all of you bloggeronians how grateful I have been for your kind words, many prayers and just plain ol' good thoughts going out into the universe for me and my family.

Oh and PS - Brother made it, clean, sober, and in appropriate clothes to the funeral. That did my heart good.