Riley is just fine...

I just checked my e-mail for the first time in months. I was really surprised to find so much mail in there. Since I’ve stepped back from doing so much “alcohol” related stuff, I haven’t been so diligent to check things like the e-mail. I just want to say that in the next week, I’ll be answering your mail and trying to answer some of your questions.

What seems to be asked a lot is “How is Riley doing?” Well, Riley is doing just fine physically. However, he isn’t doing so well mentally. The residual results of alcohol dementia are permanent and he will never be any better than he is right now. In fact, he is getting worse. The memory loss and the loss of logical, practical, common thinking create many other problems. Those problems may not seem to be problems for him, but I am the one left to find resolutions.

We continue our early morning talks over coffee, but I try to keep them as short as possible. If I don’t, I often forget that he is hampered in his thinking and then I try to talk to him as I would any other rational individual. I must always remember to be careful of the questions I ask and not to get upset with the statements he makes. It is difficult to remember that he looks like a regular guy, but he is really just the after effects of a lifetime of abusing his brain with alcohol. He is really just a 10 year old boy in the body of a 70 year old man.

According to Riley, I am the warden in the prison in which I have forced him to be incarcerated. I am to blame for every problem, inconvenience, issue, damage and anything else because I called the paramedics instead of letting him die. I have brought this on myself, in his opinion. I should not complain or try to get him to do anything because none of this is his fault. If I would have just let him die, I would not have to put up with him anymore.

He knows that his drinking is what caused the downward domino effect of his life. He knows the alcohol is what has damaged his brain. But, it doesn’t matter because if I had just ignored his cries for help… it would all be over.

An example of Riley’s off-kilter thinking is shown in our conversation from this morning. Last night I made a casserole from my Mom’s recipe box. I love it. When it’s baking, the aroma takes me back my childhood with memories of family dinners complete with laughter and rounds of talking. This casserole is one of my comfort foods.

I usually make a whole recipe and divide it into two casserole dishes. I bake one and freeze the other. Riley had a huge helping of casserole, baked potato and green salad. He finished and then asked for seconds of the casserole. No problem. I eat far less than Riley. I had about half the amount that he had. At the end of dinner there was less than ¾ cup of casserole left over. Before going to bed, I decided to have that one last little bit of comfort casserole.

This morning Riley complimented me on the casserole and asked if there was anything left. I told him I had finished it last night and that there was only a very small amount left. “Well! If I had known you were going to eat it, I would have eaten it last night with my dinner!” I asked him if he understood what he had just said and he responded in an indignant manner that of course he understood. He informed me that he would rather eat it even if he wasn’t hungry instead of me having the last bite.

It would do no good for me to explain that he was being selfish. I simply said that I was going to my office for a while. Inside I was seething angry. Why bother to ask him to explain himself further? I needed to not give him the opportunity to say anything more that would hurt me.

So when you ask how Riley is doing imagine this. He has excellent homemade dinners including homemade bread and desserts. He does only what he wants to do as far as cleaning is concerned. The majority of his day is spent watching TV and napping. He does not socialize. He is unable to drive so I do all the driving. I handle all the finances so he doesn’t have to worry about any of that. He ignores all house rules that he doesn’t like. For having spent most of his life soaked in alcoholic poison, I think he’s doing just fine.

I, on the other hand, am not doing so well. I’m exhausted and have caretaker burn-out. Frustration seems to be the highlight of my day. There is very little time for writing, sewing, cooking, shopping and even my laundry often has to wait for an opening on the calendar. Yes. I still do all those things, but I must always wait for an opportunity. And yet… I DO understand that the inconveniences are really my own fault for managing to keep him alive.

If I could afford it, I’d put him in an assisted living facility. But, unless I can personally live on about $400 per month – the facility is only a dream.

Tonight we are having beef fajitas. It’s not one of my favorites, but if there is just a little left over I think I might put it in a small container and hide it behind the fresh vegetables in the fridge. He’ll never find it there.

Let me in!!

I don’t pay much attention to buildings that offer the opportunity to buy hard liquor in bulk. The last time I was in such a store was while Riley was in hospice at the nursing home. That would be more than a year ago. I wanted to buy a small bottle of tequila because I was in a highly unusual mood for a Margarita. I was disappointed that the main ingredient for my desired cocktail was so expensive, but I bought it anyway and haven’t been back since. When you only drink every three or four months, even a small bottle has a tendency to last a while.

In North Carolina, the liquor stores are all state government alcohol control board operated. They are aptly name “ABC” stores. In my mind that seems like a childish name for such an adult product. But that’s off the track a bit.

I was driving down the main road in our town which has only two ABC stores. There is one as you enter the beach area and another just about midway down. Both stores are on the same main access road which runs the entire length of the Outer Banks. The one store I frequented when Riley was drinking was the one about midway. It is flanked on one side by a CVS store and a major grocery store. Across the street are numerous fast food restaurants. It is a busy, bustling corner.

I was going to the grocery store and when I turned at the appropriate street, I noticed that there was no longer an ABC store on the corner. It was gone. Like there one day and gone the next. But, even more than that there was no sight of there ever having been a store of any kind in that location. The building had been replaced with an empty lot.

What the heck??? Was there now only ONE ABC store on the island? My first thoughts were what are all those alcoholics going to do if they only have one store to get their precious liquids? This area has the privilege of have a large percentage of “drinkers”.  ABC stores close on Saturday evening and do not re-open until Monday morning. An image when through my head of drinkers who needed to have their supply replenished before the store closed and who had waited until the last minute to complete that chore. The image goes something like this using myself as the alcoholic/drinker in need:

I drive to my usual ABC store and see that I’m the only car in the parking lot. I think how lucky I am to get such prime parking. The inside of the store looks dark, but maybe it’s because I’m getting here so late. When I reach the end of the walkway ramp, I find the front door to be locked. I check my watch. No shouldn’t be closed because it’s about 10 minutes before closing time. I step back and look at the building quizzically. OH! Wait! There’s a sign…

This store will be permanently closed as of (whatever day is the day before today). We will re-open at our new location in the Surfside Shopping Center at our normal opening time.

Oh my goodness!! I don’t even know where the Surfside Shopping Center is! Do I have enough time to get there? I grab my cell phone and call a friend to find out if she knows where the new store is. She tells me it is right next to the Stamp Store. OK. I know where that is, but I don’t know if I will make it in time.

I put my car in gear and head to the Stamp Store. I run every red light and weave in and out of the traffic. Panic is setting in as I realize I may not have enough time. Then I see the sign over the window front “ABC” Beverage Store. I park right in front and push open the door as the manager heads towards me to lock out anyone behind me.

Phew!! I made it! That was a really close call. I must never wait until the last minute again.

I’m so happy I am not a person who must have a stash of alcohol available every single day. I have been blessed to not have that penchant or gene or whatever it is. On the other hand, I know the business hours of every single Starbucks and Coffee House on the island. I would probably die from withdrawal if I had to survive an entire weekend with my java.

To each his own poison...

The aftermath...

I never thought anything could be worse that looking after Riley while he seemed to be drinking himself into oblivion. The constant cleaning up after him was tiring and never-ending. Trying to talk him into eating a meal or taking a shower seemed to be futile. But now I’m beginning to think those difficulties were just a minor inconvenience. With Riley no longer drinking it would seem that my problems have left the building. I was wrong in thinking that leaving the drunk building would be better than entering the sobriety building.

Sobriety is a good thing even if Riley doesn’t agree. It has been more than a year and he still prefers death to sobriety. The word by itself conjures up ideas of rational conversations and being able to go out and enjoy a social life with him. It makes me feel as though I don’t have to goad him into showering or washing his hands after visiting the bathroom. Oh!!! Blessed be sobriety!!

Today, I can tell you that this sobriety is no walk in the park. All of the long term, near fatal detoxes and rehabs and bouncing back to the bottle which led to strokes and heart attacks, have left Riley with progressive dementia. So you may be saying “Well, that’s better than drunk.” In some cases I guess it might be, but in Riley’s case, not so much.

A day as Riley’s caretaker means getting up at 5:30 a.m. and chatting with him over coffee. His conversations are often disjointed and follow no line of logic. He doesn’t seem to have opinions of his own anymore because most of what he says is just repeating of what he has heard on the news which he watches just before we have coffee. Sometimes he doesn’t know what day it really is and most of the time he has no recollection of anything more recent than 20 years prior. When he does remember, the memories may be of a certain place with certain people, but they may be the wrong people associated with the wrong place. He will insist that he absolutely knows what he is talking about and often times tries to drag me into an argument over facts and times.

In Riley World, everything must be done in a certain order and time. He is mentally bound to his routine and any change to the routine causes him distress. The fall-out from that is that I’m also bound to his routine. I’m not a routine kinda gal – I get things done in my own time and way. The contradiction is difficult for Riley and trying to stick to his routine makes me miserable. I live in a state of constant re-adjustment and accommodation to the now sober Riley.

I recently had a doctor tell me that Riley is like a 12-year-old boy in a man’s body. I’m no longer a counterpart in his life, but instead I’m the mother of a disobedient pre-teen boy who believes he can still do all the things he did as an adult. He sees nothing wrong with eating a whole box of Oreos in one day and talking about the body parts of female newscasters. Still he will not shower and manages to get his hands covered in his own excrement.  I find hand prints on the bathroom walls and wiped onto hand towels. If I specifically remind him to wash his hands, he will do it but only with grumbling about how mean I am.

I’ve had so many people tell me how wonderful it is that Riley is not drinking. Their praise is genuine, but their understanding of the why and how is way off. I just smile and nod as though I know a secret that I’m sure they would not comprehend. No point in trying to make a point.  The truth is that the drunken Riley is very much the same as the sober Riley. He just isn’t drunk.

Riley does not express his anger. He is passive-aggressive and still is able to act on that whenever he sees fit. And – he sees fit a lot. Although, now it feels that he doesn’t even know he is doing it. He is not calculating and doesn’t make a plan to get back at me. Now, it just seems to come with the territory of living with a dementia patient. My anger is far more vocal and immediate, but I’ve learned that I must keep that anger in check because nothing I say will be remembered the next day. I can explain to him why, where, how, etc., but the same explanation will be required the very next day or hour.

I think what makes me the angriest is that if Riley had stopped drinking way back when – this would not be an issue now. Everything that is wrong with his health has been a direct result of alcoholism. I always dreamed that one day he would get a firm hold on sobriety and we could go back to being happily separated. That will never happen now. Riley has become a pre-teen boy who is fighting battles that would be normal if I were his mother rather than his wife. Who am I kidding – none of this is normal by any stretch of the imagination. Sometimes I wonder if he isn’t really Benjamin Button.

The anger I feel towards myself is something I work to control every day. I’ve been asked “When will it be over?” by readers who are dealing with a seemingly immortal alcoholic. What I want to say to them is probably not acceptable to society and would come across as me being a selfish, cold bitch. I would tell them that it will go on as long as the non-alcoholic makes that 911 call just in the nick of time; rations the alcohol; makes sure the alcoholic gets food; and, generally takes care of things. Those things keep the alcoholic alive and if your alcoholic is truly end-stage, it is the only thing keeping them alive.

Personally, I’m angry with myself for doing what I feel was the “right” thing. I believe most people would have done exactly what I have done. I could not find it in myself to let Riley die in the bedroom across the hall from me while he cried out for me to please get him help.  I believe there is an inherent part of us as human beings that makes us uncomfortable to just allow another person to die and not get assistance.

That’s why hospice is so valuable – the hospice workers relieve us of the responsibility. If Riley had his heart attack just a few hours sooner – the decision to call 911 would have been out of my hands because I would have called hospice instead. Riley would probably not be alive today. At 4 p.m. his hospice services were terminated because of a half-point reading on his lab results. At 9 p.m. he had a heart attack that lead to where we are now.

My decision to retire from all things “alcoholism” was a good decision. I find that most of my time is now spent in dealing with the aftermath of alcoholism. I’ve turned the OARS support groups over to very capable managers who are doing an awesome job. I’m thankful for them. The group is growing and providing much help and strength to many who have a loved one in the middle of alcohol insanity. You may join the group by using the invitation link provided here:

http://oarsffgroup.ning.com/?xgi=4y2iNUBjRKJaqW

I’m still here – lurking – reading your comments and being proud that you are all supporting each other through my blog. However, I am concerned about those who have posted links to that are not relative to the real subject matter. I will go back to moderating the comments and try to weed out the ones who seem to abuse the commenting privilege.

I have another post on the burner – something a little more of a humorous nature. Watch for it. I think you will enjoy it.

I'm still here...

I see I’m being asked if I’m ever going to return to posting on this blog. The answer is YES. In fact, I’m working on a post right now, but don’t expect to find it today – probably on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Although Riley no longer drinks, his physical condition has become extremely demanding. He is left with dementia which is progressive in a downhill manner. When he was drinking, I thought nothing could be worse than that. I was wrong. The dementia is far worse. Thankfully, there is help on the horizon and I might be able to get back to some type of life of my own.

Please continue to support each other as I have seen you all doing over the past months. I do read your comments and happy to see that you respond to each other. Unfortunately, I’ve also been unable to answer my e-mail in a timely manner. I hope you will see an improvement over the next month.

Thank you for visiting my blog and continuing to read even when I haven’t been here. I appreciate all of you so very much. 

Vacation? Break? Retirement?

I’ve been advised by my doctor to try to slow things down a bit. Immediately after the words left the doc’s lips, I told her I was planning the first ever live OARS workshop and meeting. “Ohhh…” she said… “Well… I want to support you in your endeavor to provide information to people involved in alcoholism, but would you at least consider taking a little break after the event?” I told her I would think about it. And I did think about it long and hard. And then I discussed it with my family. Here is the result of all that thinking and discussing.

For the past month I have not posted on the blog. I have not answered e-mails. I have only very marginally been active in the support groups. I have taken a break from all things alcoholism. The only exception is that I held the workshop event as planned.

I’m feeling refreshed, renewed, relaxed and can see how all the alcohol related activities have been sources of stress. I’m also feeling guilty. I’ve gone back over my (130+) e-mails and I’m concerned that I can’t address each one individually. I feel guilty because I did not respond to them in a timely manner. I’m going to try to respond to the running current theme of the messages on my next post. Hopefully, that can help several people at a time without each receiving an individual response.

In the OARS Family and Friends Group, I always stress the need for the family and friends to find a way to have a productive and satisfying life outside of the alcoholic chaos. Call it detachment if you want. I call it survival. The goal of the group should be that the member finds strength enough to stand on their own and be confident in their own decisions. The goal should be that they not NEED the group so much but are able to give their insight to others who are still in need.

Personally, helping others through the alcoholic maze has been a means of survival. I found strength in helping others survive. Doing research and posting the results, participating in OARS discussions, writing my own life journey (The Immortal Alcoholic’s Wife—available on Smashwords),reviewing books by new authors, and finding new means of reaching out, have all been a part of my route to survival. It has been expensive, not just financially, but emotionally and physically. Oh, there’s so much more I would like to do – but my financial, emotional and physical budgets seem to be running tight these days.

At first, when I agreed to this little vacation, I thought… so what am I supposed to do? Sit around and watch QVC and re-runs of Oprah? Get fatter from trying all the recipes on cooking shows? The idea of this did not make me happy. I couldn’t imagine not having anything to do. I promised my kids that I would take some time to see how retirement feels. I said I would “try it on for size.” So I would see it through to the best of my ability.

It took some effort on my part to focus only on the event and nothing else. When the event was not as big of a hit as I had hoped, I took it as a sign. I cleaned my office. I cleaned my bedroom. I took naps. I watched SpongeBob Square Pants the Movie nine million times with my great-grandson. I scanned family photos. I enjoyed watching the sunrise and began sleeping better. I realized that I didn’t NEED the alcohol related work as much as I thought I did. I discovered that I didn’t do it because I needed to but rather because I wanted to do it. However, I want to go zip-lining and hang-gliding, but know it is probably not something I should do.

I’m not retiring this blog. I’m still going to be posting here. I’m still going to try to address concerns of those who write to me. But things are changing. I will no longer be able to answer each and every e-mail. Instead, I will continuously offer the link for joining the OARS support group. (http://oarsffgroup.ning.com/?xgi=4R6sAeUek4uZ9X ) That’s my recommendation for being one of the  best sources of support for people involved in alcoholic insanity. But, you won’t find me there as often as I have been in the past. I will lurk… interject… just not so often.

One of my goals has been the formation of OARS as a non-profit organization. I’m no longer pursuing that goal. Instead I have (and will continue) to encourage the members to go forward with that project and make OARS non-profit a reality. I will be here to support and advice, but cannot take on the responsibility of such a long-term commitment. This endeavor needs someone who can commit to several years of getting it off the ground – someone younger and in better health than I. There are several people within the group who truly want this to happen and are willing to make sacrifices to see it happen, but they all have regular jobs and time limitations.

If anyone who reads this is interested in helping with sponsorship or mentoring or taking on the task – please contact me and I’ll put you in touch with the people who are actively trying to make a go of keeping OARS going and turning it into something as big as we all think it can be.

I’m not sure about continuing with the workshops. I haven’t made that decision yet and unless I get another grant – I don’t have the money to do it up right.

I’m not retiring. I’m just taking a step back. I’m finding, or rediscovering, other uses of my time. I’m writing another book containing real-life stories of people who have walked in the shoes of loving an alcoholic. (If you have a story you want to share, please e-mail it to me.) I’m collaborating with two other family members to write my family history book. I’ve promised a family cookbook with my Mom’s recipes – time to make good on that promise.  I rediscovered my passion for writing when I began this blog. It’s time to use and expand that passion. It’s time to take my own advice.

Please contact me at immortalalcoholic@gmail.com if you can provide any of the following:

1)      Guest post for the blog with new information or insight;

2)      Help in making OARS a non-profit organization;

3)      Have a story you would like to see in my next book (all stories are identity-protected);

4)      Suggest a topic for a blog posting.

Thank you for being my faithful readers. Thank you for providing me support and encouragement. Thank you.

Just another word...

The other day a friend told me about a condition that explained a lot to me about why Riley is still in such denial about alcoholism creating his current physical limitations. The word is ANOSOGNOSIA. Of course, the first thing I did was look it up in Wikipedia.

“Anosognosia is viewed as a deficit of self-awareness, a condition in which a person who suffers certain disability seems unaware of the existence of his or her disability.”

“Anosognosia results from physiological damage on brain structures, typically to the parietal lobe or a diffuse lesion on the frontal-temporal-parietal area in the right hemisphere.”  This distinguishes the condition from denial, which is a psychological defense mechanism.

So, as I understand it, damage to the frontal lobe can cause a condition that prevents the patient from understanding or accepting their own disability. The damage can be the result of any number of things, such as a stroke, lesion, traumatic brain injury, and any other factor that causes injury to the brain. Using those criteria, then I suppose that would include brain damage from alcohol abuse.

What seems to be a simple state of denial that alcohol is a problem, could in fact be the result of Anosognosia. If this brain damage is present, it may be one of the reasons why alcoholics have such a high rate of relapse after going through a near fatal detox. They simply don’t know that their disability is alcohol. It could be the reason why Riley looks at me in confusion when I remind him that alcoholism is his disability and the only medication is to NOT drink again.

I don’t think that all denial is a result of brain damage. I know that denial is a part of the alcoholism cycle – for both the alcoholic and those who love an alcoholic. There must be some type of brain damage for the Anosognosia condition to be present.

In the beginning we family and friends deny the alcoholic condition because we just don’t want to believe it. We don’t want to see that our future may be bleak if the person we love is addicted to alcohol. We know enough to know it is not something we want for the alcoholic or for ourselves. It’s like turning our eyes away from the movie screen just as the axe is about to break open the head of one of the characters. We know it’s happening; we just don’t want to witness it. We know alcoholism is happening; we just don’t want to have a front row seat. Instead of closing our eyes, we deny that it is even on the screen.

Denying the real problem doesn’t serve us very well. The sooner we accept what is going on, the sooner we can find ways to keep ourselves from being the victim under the axe. Once we accept what the real problem is, we can take action to maintain our own sense of self even in the midst of alcoholic craziness.

As the person who is not addicted we cannot point a finger at brain damage and say that is why we do what we do. We do what we do out of desperation to save the alcoholic. Saving the alcoholic becomes the only thing in our lives that has a priority. The sad fact is that we are like Don Quixote jousting at windmills. We cannot save the alcoholic from alcoholism. We can call 911 when the alcoholic body starts shutting down, but we cannot save them from their own denial. The alcoholic’s alcoholism is the property of the alcoholic.

We can understand and accept. If Anosognosia is an issue we can learn about it and realize that it is hopeless to fight it. We can learn everything we can about alcoholism and the related health issues because knowledge is the key to survival. We can find ways to keep our own health from falling victim to stress related illnesses. We can stay engaged in our own lives with our own interests. We can maintain a circle of friends that support without judgment. We can find our own avenues of peace and calm.

It’s not easy to do all that stuff in the above paragraph. It may seem simple, but it is extremely difficult. The first step is to stop believing you can change the alcoholic. Stop denying that there is a problem with your own thought process. It’s not easy to look deep inside ourselves and try to find the person that existed before the insanity.  That person – maybe the art lover, stray animal feeder, avid baker, exercise nut, writer, computer whiz, organizer extraordinaire, coach or something else – is still inside you. That person will help you survive alcoholism and be happy if you can bring that person out into the open.

It doesn’t really matter to me if Riley has Anosognosia or not. It makes it easier for me to understand his point of view. But, it doesn’t really change anything. Riley is still an alcoholic who will quickly be an end-stage alcoholic if he finds a way to return to drinking. I provide him the means to have a healthy life without alcohol even if he finds it unpalatable. That’s all I can do for him. He is no longer accepted at rehab centers even if he had a desire to go. If it was a possibility, I would encourage him to go. I no longer spend hours trying to talk some logic into his damaged brain. Instead, I accept it for what it is – something I cannot change.

I have found my passion. Actually, I’ve reconnected with several of my passions over the past year. I like my life. I don’t deny that there are problems but I separate my fixable problems from the unfixable. I guess that’s the wisdom of knowing the difference.

Let it go...

Lisa Frederikson is my guest poster for this entry. This is a favorite post from her website www.breakingthecycles.com:

“Let It Go.”  For years I couldn’t relate to this phrase. It seemed so overused, and frankly one that got my blood boiling because it sounded so overly simplistic. Yet, it’s now one of my favorite phrases. In fact on heavy stress days, I’m practically chanting, “Let it go….” So how does it work for me?

How to Let It Go

Over the course of my recovery from 40+ years of family member and friends’ alcohol abuse and/or alcoholism, I’ve come through some heavy, heavy stress days. But it’s because of the years of recovery work I’ve done (therapy, Al-Anon, research) and my newfound understanding of the science behind the codependent’s brain (see this post for more on this) that everything has changed. Between the two I am now able to keep pulling myself back to the fact that I have absolute control of what I think, and therefore, how I respond. I have absolutely NO control over another person’s brain, therefore another person’s thoughts, reactions, feelings or behaviors.
This is not to be confused with how I feel. Because let me tell you, my feelings were (and occasionally still are) ALL OVER the place – anger, sadness, frustration, rage, despair, hope, resignation, emptiness, loneliness, “why me?”, “what happened?” “haven’t I gone through enough?” “Now what?” And, my reactions?
‘Back in the day,’ my reactions were NOT based on responding (explained next). They were immediate and often unproductive as they followed the wild ride of my feelings, ranging from tears to dazed walking the neighborhood streets to yelling at the walls to grinding my teeth (and, oh yea…headaches, too).
But thanks to the “new me,” today, I’m able to weather all kind of stressors, knowing that I have absolute control over what I think, therefore how I respond (again, not to be confused with how I feel).
Responses (as opposed to reactions) occur when I jar my thinking out of the Limibc System portion of my brain and move it down different neural pathways to those in the Cerebral Cortex, the thinking part of my brain. And it is when I think that I can respond with reason and clarity vs simply reacting out of an emotional response (something that occurs when stuck in neural networks in the Limibc System). To get there – to get to thinking and responding vs feeling and reacting – I use this phrase, “Let it go…” (and others, such as “THINK,” “HALT” and “BREATHE”) to remind myself, “I am in control – when and if I’m ready respond, it’s up to me.”
To help me figure out what to do next, I talk about the problem with friends or family, go swimming, sleep, hike, rock climb, research, write about it, work, practice mindfulness — some of these activities are directed at finding a solution and some are just to take my mind off the problem.  In other words, after I feel my feelings and the range of reactions they inspire, I can think things through and then “calmly” respond. Followed, of course, by “Let it go…” (releasing that kite string) to remind myself to move on – enjoy the moments – because who knows what might happen, next.

Not to Overly Simplify, But Perhaps…

“Letting go” does not mean I’ve necessarily found an easy or immediate solution or that all is well. “Letting go” is more like a clearing of my mind for that moment or period of time. It’s a reminder that I can’t solve it all at once, but I’ll do what I can, when I can, however I can. Often it can be as simple as gaining a new perspective, and with that, I leave you with the following image:



About Lisa Frederiksen:

Lisa Frederiksen is the author of nine books and a national keynote speaker with over 25 years public speaking experience. She has been consulting, researching, writing and speaking on alcohol abuse, drug addiction, secondhand drinking, treatment, mental illness, underage drinking, and help for the family since 2003. Her 40+ years experience with family and friends’ alcohol abuse and alcoholism, her own therapy and recovery work around those experiences, and her research for her blog posts and books, including her most recent - "Crossing The Line From Alcohol Use to Abuse to Dependence," "Loved One In Treatment? Now What!" and "If You Loved Me, You’d Stop!" - frame her work with medical school students, families, individuals, students and administrators, businesses, public agencies, social workers, family law attorneys, treatment providers and the like.

Chipping away...

I believe that if you want something you must work for it. Good things seldom come overnight without blood, sweat and tears being shed. Often, in the pursuit of reaching a goal, obstacle blocks are placed in the middle of the path.

In my attempts to create the support group, OARS F&F Group, I’ve reached many obstacle blocks along the way. At first it was a trial and error sort of thing. I started the open page on Facebook as Immortal Alcoholic. After the open page started getting some momentum, I began receiving e-mails that more privacy was needed and that gave birth to OARS Family and Friends group on Facebook. But there were still more concerns with the unpredictability of the Facebook format.

Today, people who find themselves involved in the life of an alcoholic can find support on the independent site, OARSFFGroup.ning.com. This is an independent site which can only be joined via invitation. Although joining is easy since the invitation link is published in many places, the posted content is monitored for signs of disrespect, judgment and criticism — which are just not tolerated.

You might be surprised what you see if you visit the site. If you don’t have any experience with an alcoholic, you might even be shocked. There are videos, pictures, poems, songs, and links nestled in with the posts that support whoever is in need of a virtual hug. As we went along creating this site and watching it grow, I realized that we needed more. Virtual hugs and understanding was just not enough.

One member was facing an especially critical event and was alone. Her alcoholic father was dying in the hospital. She had no family to hold her hand. No friend offering encouragement. No person to talk to who could relate to her dilemma. If she had not been so geographically far away, I would have run to her and provided a shoulder to cry on, an objective listener when medical jargon was provided, and someone to sit by the hospital bed so she could take a much needed nap. But I could not be there and she was alone. Oh, she posted on OARS every step of the way. The entire group reached out and provided words of encouragement which helped her immensely -- yet – she was alone.

My goal has always been to take OARS to the next level by creating LIVE meeting which would provide an opportunity for members to network and form one-on-one relationships. The meetings would be informational with speakers relating to whatever topic was on the agenda. There would also be an element of fun. As a person involved with an alcoholic, laughter doesn’t always come easy and even something as simple as reading the newspaper, requires planning.

My obstacle block for having live meetings was a very common issue – MONEY. An event such as the one I wanted would require funding and I was barely making my website cost commitment through donations on my GoFundMe.com site. (http://www.gofundme.com/17t82w)  Someone referred me to an organization called Pollination Nation which offers grants to individuals who want to make positive changes in the world. I thought it couldn’t hurt to apply; after all, I had heard the word “no” before and was still alive. What was the worst thing that could happen??

I submitted my paperwork and within a very short time I received the e-mail telling me I had been approved for a grant! (www.thepollinationproject.org/grants-awarded-page/may-2013/) I could hear a large corner of that obstacle block as it cracked and fell out of my path. It isn’t a large amount of money – just enough to organize a meetings (possibly two) and that’s about all. BUT, it is a start and maybe a start is all I need to build OARS Live into what I dream it could be. Maybe I can help a few people connect, and those few will connect with some other people, and the next thing you know – we have hundreds or even thousands – of people connecting everywhere.

Imagine if you were that woman with her husband in the hospital and someone was right by your side. Can you envision how different it might feel if there were a person to just go get you a cup of coffee? Imagine, if you can, how it might feel to not be “alone” during a crisis.

The first ever OARS goes LIVE meeting / workshop will be held at the end of June on The Outer Banks of North Carolina. The topic will be “Survive and Thrive”. Guest speakers will include an addiction therapist and a career counselor. There will be a light lunch and many opportunities for networking. Tentatively the fun element will be a lot of laughter lead by a Laughter Yoga coach. The goal of this first meeting is to provide information, entertainment and, most importantly, lots of connecting. Each person in attendance should leave the event with the names of three other people with whom they feel they can relate.

The monthly meetings will each have a different topic with different speakers relating to the topic. If I have enough money in the budget, I hope to video the event (while trying to not expose the participants) and put it out on a webcast. But, I’ll have to wait and see.

Corners of the obstacle block are falling off and I can see that if I just keep chipping… the block will disappear. 

To join OARS go here: http://oarsffgroup.ning.com/?xgi=4R6sAeUek4uZ9X  

Every 19 minutes...

By the time I finish writing this post three children will have died as a result of drug or alcohol abuse.

I had a wonderful Mother’s Day. My daughter, granddaughter and great-granddaughter all went out for breakfast and then got mani-pedies. I hadn’t been out in a while and being with "just the girls" was a great way to relax and I even found myself laughing.

Mother’s Day is always a little hard on me since my son’s death via alcoholism. There is this part of me that is missing. I miss having him call me at the crack of dawn and say “Maw!!! Happppy Mother’s Day! Aren’t you happy I made you a MOM!” He was my first child and so he always claims the rights to being the one who made it appropriate for me to be called a Mom. His younger sister says she gives my title “staying power.” Meaning another child means a strong hold to motherhood. Not sure if I really "get" her theory, but sibling rivalry can sometimes be endearing even when it makes no sense.

Now that my son has died a senselessly, his voice is always in my head. I hear him over and over again. And I miss him so much that sometimes it is unbearable. I’m told that it gets easier. If that’s going to happen I wish it would just hurry up and take place because sometimes the pain is as fresh as it was the day he passed.

There are a lot of mothers and a few fathers in the OARS Family and Friends of Alcoholics Support Group. (www.OARSFFGroup.ning.com) They find comfort in communicating with others who know the emptiness of losing a child. They know the helplessness of watching your child walk down a path that can have no good end. It doesn’t really matter if the child is 40 or 14, to a mother a child is always a child no matter how old the child may be.  The pain of the loss is the same. To join the group go here:

http://oarsffgroup.ning.com/?xgi=4R6sAeUek4uZ9X

The inherent paternal instinct is to protect the child above all else. But how does a parent trust and let their child grow into adulthood when the dangers are all around? Should we wrap them in bubble wrap and attach an ankle device that monitors their every move?

I think Dr. Phil might have the right idea. You just do everything you can to protect them. Do everything you can do and then do some more. If you suspect that your child (teen) is involved in drugs and/or alcohol, you must invade their privacy; track their cell phone; lock up your liquor and medicine cabinets; check out their friends; watch for fluctuations in their grades; and get them into counseling.

One child dies every 19 minutes. One life that could have been a teacher; President of the United States; inventor of backpack jet propulsion for everyday use; scientist who discovers a cure for Duchene’s Muscular Dystrophy or Autism; author of a Pulitzer Prize; or an outstanding ice cream cone scooper or coffee barista. It doesn’t really matter what they might have become. What matters is that they won’t have a chance to be anything other than a statistic of how many dead children we accumulate in an hour.

I have been a supporter of the Hollywood and Vine Recovery Center's upcoming fundraising event. They have already been able to help one of my followers by providing recovery services for the child of the follower. They were proactive and speedy in making sure that one specific child would not become a sad statistic. I am grateful that, even though I don’t know who either the parents or child are, they got the help they needed. Their website is:

http://www.hollywoodandvinerecoverycenter.com/

Being in the throes of parenting a teen-ager has always been exasperating. I don’t know what happens when a child begins to reach the magical “teen years”, but it can seem as though your child was snatched in the middle of the night and replaced with a pod person. Reason and logical seem to no longer exist. Parenting a teen by using reason and logic often feels futile. When drugs or alcohol is added to the equation the chaos magnifies beyond understanding.

There is no such thing as too much knowledge. If you have questions for a professional who deals with addicted children on a daily basis, Dr. Gloria Montgomery can help. On Wednesdays between 3 and 5 pm (Pacific Time), you can go to www.RMCONAIR.com and join in the “Expect a Miracle CARE FOR KIDS” live radio and internet stream radio. Dr. Montgomery will answer your questions. There is also live entertainment and interesting interviews. This is a “home grown” program, so if it feels a bit unprofessional that’s because these people are not performers. They are real people working in the real work of doing everything they can to help addicted children. No frills here. Just facts.

I started writing this post at 8:30am and it is now 10:00am. It’s been 90 minutes and at least four children have died.

Who's life is it?

As the spouse of an end-stage alcoholic, people often have a misconception of my marriage. Many times I hear about how much I must love Riley in order to stand by him the way I do. Love is a funny word. There are all kinds of love and I do love him, but I am not a wife in a true sense of the word. I am also not in a marriage that I would really consider as traditional.

In my opinion, a traditional marriage is one where two people join together to create a partnership where they work equally towards a happy life. In a traditional marriage major decisions are made after discussions between the couple until they come to a mutually agreed upon conclusion. The responsibility for financial obligations is shared even if there is only one person working for a paycheck. Communication is open and flows freely. Each person supports the other during times of hardships or ill health. The partner/spouse will be the one person you can trust without doubt. There will be arguments, disagreements, frustrations and even heart-break. But, at the end of the day, they will always be a solid unit.

So maybe I live in a dream world. Maybe that’s how marriage is only SUPPOSED to be but in reality maybe it never is. I don’t know for sure, but if I was in a traditional marriage I think I would feel so differently than I do at this moment. I don’t feel like Riley’s wife. I am care-taker or more of a sister or mother to him or, maybe, even a type of personal manager. There is no desire for anything remotely resembling romance. There is no sharing of hopes and dreams, no working toward a jointly desired end goal. There are just two people living in the same house with absolutely opposing opinions and lifestyles.

In spite of all of that, I have a life. It doesn’t matter to me that my life is in conflict with what Riley wants. Riley made choices that have put him in the situation he is in today. That was his life to screw up or to succeed as he deemed fit. I also made choices that have changed the path of my life. They were my choices to make for my life. I own my decisions, good or bad.

I do not feel that Riley has the authority to make decisions for me. My brain is not toxin saturated and I am still reasonably sane and competent. To have him make decisions with me jointly is like asking my three-year granddaughter what dress to wear today. I might end up wearing a princess outfit, complete with wand and tiara, to a job interview. Unless I was applying for a job at Disneyworld, I doubt I would be hired. The concept is the same. Riley’s decision might seem perfectly reasonable to him, but in reality may not be appropriate.

In the quest for some kind of “traditional normalcy”, I might ask Riley his opinion and even consider putting it into action. I believe that we all want that sort of connection with our spouse. We may even strive to find it in every conversation or action. We search for something that says, “I’m the most important person in my spouse’s life.” We are grasping at straws because we know in our heart and soul that the most important thing in our alcoholic spouses life is getting and maintaining a foggy mind.

Spouses of addicted persons must stand up for themselves and remember that they are individuals and they must make decisions based on sound, reasonable, rational judgment.  That means that the alcoholic spouse doesn’t have a right to make demands or force upon us their need for the appearance of a healthy, happy marriage. Usually marriage to an alcoholic spouse is neither healthy nor happy when the non-alcoholic is constantly treating the alcoholic as though he/she had the capability of being of sound, rational mind.

Alcoholics are human beings and even though the brain may be broke. They don’t think it is. They truly believe that they are capable of the “traditional” marriage. They long for it. They need it. Or at least they need the appearance of it. I respect that it may be what they need, but I do not need a broken brained individual to decide what clothing to wear, who my friends are, or when I should go to the doctor.

Recently I heard a wife say that her husband wouldn’t LET her friends drive her to an event. The husband is an alcoholic who drives drunk. He wanted to drive her to her destination.  I wonder in what world this would be acceptable? If Riley said that to me, I would tell him to back off. I would tell him I would not allow him to drive me around the corner, let alone to an appointment. I would remind him that he is not allowed to make decisions about my life.

My life belongs to me. Although I may include Riley in discussions about decisions, the bottom line is all on my shoulders. I don’t always make the right decision. Sometimes my decisions put me in an awkward, difficult situation. But the decision was mine. I value my life and will not knowingly leave it in the hands of a drunk driver or any other person whose brain doesn’t function in reality.

I ask all my readers to please do not get into a car with a drunk driver behind the wheel. Value your own life enough to want to keep yourself safe from harm. Take control of your life and respect your own decisions. Listen to that little voice in your head that says – you are worthwhile and you can decide on your own. Let’s not any of us leave decisions to people who may love us, but can’t understand logic or live in reality.