Along our way we found this just growing there. As we looked closely, there were more and more and more – and a variety of different flowers that we had missed too. We overlooked the little things that can make a day so beautiful – just for a little while, though – because we were so focused on the negative dark cloud that came to the reservoir with us (My Mom has lung cancer.)  After we started to focus on the beauty, soon we began to actively seek out the beauty purposefully, and what a great day we had.

When it was enough for my mom, it was enough. That was a few months ago and she got worn out, but we all had a grateful day because she was THERE.

Today I am grateful because she is doing pretty good. She isn’t out of the woods… but then, maybe none of us are if you think hard enough. She is feeling OK today, and I am SO grateful.

Enjoy and be grateful for the beauty of today. It will help keep you out of the bag. My friend told me the other day that some days he remembers he has thumbs, and says he is just grateful for that (Those must be his tough days.)

Enjoy today. Find one thing you are grateful for. If you are reading this on 8/2/10, know I am having the roots of my teeth scraped or dynamited or something… doesn’t sound fun.

And be grateful you’re not me… and I’ll be grateful I get to keep my teeth.

I love you Mom.

See, here’s the thing. The Dispatcher wanted me to let her know where I was “Just in Case” anything changed, which I thought was so nice… so I called them up and let them know where I was, and when I’d go home. I did go home, I was depressed, and had mixed feelings about all of this stuff. I let the dispatcher know I was home now and she told me he would not be released and was going to be going to be leaving on some out of county warrants. 

He was gone now… and I got one of his shirts and held it and cried on the couch. My poor daughter (About 17 at this time) came home because we had quite a blizzard outside and she didn’t want to wait too long to trudge through the snow to get home. She’s a good kid (Still is – just not a kid anymore,) and sat with me for a minute and went into her room.  I want to say more about my kids, but not now.

After a while, there was a knock at the door, which always meant my daughter had a friend over or it was just one of my friends, so she answered it. I was in my pajamas wearing hubbys huge flannel shirt, hugging a different one.

“Mommy, the Sheriff is here…”

Why would they send someone all the way up the mountain in a BLIZZARD just to talk to me about Paul?

To make a long story short… did any of YOU know that you don’t really have to be home to be charged with felony possession of meth… it just has to be in your house? In your underwear drawer?

I didn’t… I found out that night, though. I also found out a lot about humiliation (Verses Humility,) Fighting a battle I could NEVER win (Verses Surrendering to Win,) and having no power (Verses being Powerless.)

… I also learned that sitting in the back of a cop car handcuffed going downhill in a whiteout REALLY sucks.

So during one of our usual loud, obnoxious arugments (This had become routine for hubby and me, with visits from the sheriff becoming more and more regular,) I asked a local womens agency for help.. and someone at my job called the sheriff one last time. I went off to work, and before he could get to work himself, hubby went to jail. He had warrants…

…and I had meth stashed (Where else?) in my underwear drawer! The sheriff found it, charged him with possession, and I went to work.

The rest of this story is so stupid on my part – ADDICT stupid – I’m not gonna say what happened next – yet.

Looking back, today it is one of the parts of my story I LOVE to share – because it’s too funny not too. At the time, I could not believe I was THAT dumb… and I will tell you how dumb soon.

Until then, stay smart!

Be grateful for what you do have. Be grateful today, even though today is a hard day for all of us (I think every day presents challenges and gifts – be grateful for both.)

Share what you have – it will come back to you ten fold in time. It might not come back tomorrow, or next week, or next year – and you may find yourself resentful of that.

Expecatations are premeditated resentments.

Expect nothing, hope with all your heart, and just be grateful for what you have.

My dog Daizy – she died.

And, for me, the worse kind of pressure, what appears to be the loss of SOMETHING in the relationship at home. There seems to be a “Dry Drunk” in my house – he isn’t using, he isn’t doing any of that. He has just returned to a state of mind that implies that there is an addict in the house.

Yelling, controlling, slamming things around, yelling at animals, blaming blaming blaming, minimizing… and failing to support me when I feel I need him the most.

My Mom is sick – My Mom is essentially dying, I just don’t know when. I need a safe place and I don’t have one – not a tangable place anyway.

There is ONE place I can go, though. There is one way I can get support and I have not been practicing that as hard or as often or as passionately as I need to.

12 steppers are always making reference to our “Higher Power.” The steps make reference to “God” which is a word that is a synonym for a power greater than ourselves.

If you are an addict and don’t believe in a higher power, then think about running out of dope… did you go get more? What lengths were you willing to go to get more? Did you ever get arrested – when they threw you in cuffs, and you asked nicely “Can I just go home?” did they let you?

Ever been caught in a rip tide or a strong river current? Ever watched a leaf in the gutter?

I call this part of the blog ”Dry Ice” because it is about my recovery. Some days I will post here, mostly when my recovery gets me through a shitty day clean.

I am at work today. Today was a shitty day – my husband and I are having problems and today was one of those days that makes you wonder if the relationship will make it, or if it’s just not worth the bullshit anymore. I have so much bullshit going on right now…

And then I remember I am employed, dressed, fed, housed, and even have a few cars. I have pets that are fat they eat so much. All my problems are between my ears. Those kind of problems are the kind I need to work on using what I have learned in recovery, using what the 12 Steps have taught me, and tonite, I will meditate (Because that is what I do to connect with MY higher power who I personally do not call God) and work on me.

I don’t know if my relationship will survive. I will. I have decided that, Just For Today, I will let my higher power work in my life. I just have to do the next right thing and get in touch with that part of myself.

Does that mean that I am cured – that I am not an addict anymore because I haven’t used meth (Or, as a matter of fact, gotten high on ANYTHING) for more than six years?

Some people think “Yes,” this means I am recovered.

I do not believe that at all. I believe that I am an addict, and that I have made a choice every day for more than six years to refrain from getting high. At first, it wasn’t like “Making a choice.” At first, it was like this agonizing cruelty that I was forcing on myself every minute for hours and days and weeks… and months at a time.

I couldn’t stay clean. I couldn’t accept that “Clean” for me was going to have to mean “Not getting high.” Period.

See, I tried to stop using lots of times. I was successful in 1992 when I stopped using Cocaine; I replaced my habitual use of cocaine with the exclusive use of meth, but to me, my “Problem” was Coke. No Coke, no Problem. I bragged about it – I got pissed at people who weren’t as proud of me as I was.

I “Get it” now. I had to get my head COMPLETELY out of my ass (And for a while, too,) before I understood what it meant to be clean, to have a clear head, and to understand what it felt like to actually live life the way “Normal People” do it.

But back to TODAY.

let me tell you all a few things.

My mother has cancer, and she isn’t going to fare well. Lots of addicts have “Mom Issues” as a part of their story – I am not one of those addicts. I had “Dad Issues,” which I am happy to report that RECOVERY has given me the gift of resolving (Although on occasion, we both still growl at each other… that’s called FAMILY STUFF.)

I am going to lose my mother and it is the worst pain I have ever experienced… and she is still functional. She is suffering, though, and her pain just tears me apart because I am POWERLESS to make it go away. I can’t save my mom.  Recovery has given me the option to enjoy every single moment we have together NOW while we can, and that is what we do. My mom has always been my best friend (She and my 24 year old daughter… and my BFF Lisa, of course.) But my Mother – SHE is the best of the best. I am giong to lose her and it is too soon.

My 13 (Almost 14) year old Dog Daizy is going to go to Doggie heaven soon – that is just a fact. She is a big dog and she is losing the ability to stay on her feet, and there are other things. The neighbor kid is selling his wagon, and I am thinking that I will buy it, put my old Girl in that wagon, and take her for a nice wagon ride this weekend. She might like that. I love her so much.

The layoffs here may begin as soon as 2 weeks, maybe one week from now. No one knows who will lose thier job. Everyone is freaking. I am freaking; my husband has been unemployed for some time. I have a mortgage. Unemployment is something I can’t live with… and commuting while grieving sounds like a horrible idea. I’ll do it though.

My son moved away about 2 weeks ago. He is 21 – he is supposed to do that. I am still his mother and I miss my boy. I want him to work and live here, not “There.” I hope he does very well “There…” but I miss my buddy. He is my OTHER best friend.

I am blessed – I have so many best friends.

My little girl (24 year old little girl) seems to be floundering, but my friend Lisa (To the rescue) may be able to help with that. Details of my childrens lives aside – I want the best for my kids. They have never been in trouble. They are individuals, they are not “Ordinary Looking” people (Think piercings, think tattoos, think …. BAGGY CLOTHES…) but they are good people, talented people.

I have relational issues at home that will not be a part of this blog. I have Lisa for that ♥ My relationship with my hubby isn’t up for public discussion – some things have to be private; most anything about other people in this blog will be private. This isn’t about them – this is about how addiction has affected my life, and how it effects my life today (Even though today, I don’t get high and haven’t for 6 years, 4 months.)

But back to today.

Today, I wanted to smoke cigarettes. I don’t do that anymore either; I was terrified about quitting those until my mother was diagnosed with Lung cancer, and 3 days later my friend Gary died from Colon cancer. I was sick of being stinky, I was worried about how smoking was going to harm my bird (Yes, I smoked in the house – I can’t control my use of anything if I am in active addiction. “Smoking Outside” was a good idea, and lasted until it got really cold.)

I don’t want to be high. I don’t see how being high will make my life “Better,” my problems easier to cope with, or do anything good for me at all.

…That cigarette sounded SO good though. I found myself eating huge chucnks of bread with olive oil and vinegrette… and reeses peanut butter cups… and… CROUTONS… and a friggin CORN DOG…

Can’t do anything in moderation, apparently. I called the cancer society, whose voicemail loop sent me to the wrong person, who offered to put my on hold to talk to the right person…

Soooo I SNAPPED. I used words that are often displayed like this: #^%$# **&&^  (Like “What the FUCK?” or “What kind of bullshit is THIS?”)

and so on.

That lady decided to go ahead and talk to me, and I did not smoke. I was offered a frikken hamburger within an hour which I didn’t take (More cuz I was full, I dunno.)

So, Just For Today… I got through.

My mom is dying, I am virtually penniless, my dog is going to die, my son is just GONE, my husband is unemployed (And “Other Stuff” with me and him,) the employer announced “Changes and layoffs coming soon!” but of course, none of us know for WHOM, and whatever else is going on that I just don’t feel like ruminating about.

A special thanks to Lisa for saving my ass every time I’m trying to duct tape it back on…

And a VERY special thank you to a 12 step program that has taught me I don’t have a “Drug” problem.. I have a BEHAVIOR problem, a THINKING problem, a “SPIRITUAL DEFICIT,” and it is called “ADDICTION.” I’ve been going to lots of meetings lately – and maybe that’s a factor in why I am clean.

Oh – all of the crap I pulled today (Yelling at people on the phone, etc?) I did it at work.

Our psychiatrist “Stopped by” after work to say hi, and ask me, “How are you hanging in there?” She is the best… because… I TOLD HER.

She listened. On a Friday. There is good in the world, and I will not get high tonite.

Going home, and I plan to continue to work Step One till it’s done. This will be the 4th time I have worked the 12 steps. They seem to work.

Stay clean, no matter what – life happens anyway. Might as well be in your right mind when it arrives.

Life throws us all some curve balls. Life isn’t easy – recovery does NOT promise us an easier life, just a better way to cope with the problems that every life WILL come accross. Recovery provides us with the tools to get through the good times with a smile, and the tough times with determination and some tools that don’t destroy everything else about our lives.

Quickly, I want to say that for me, right now may be the hardest time I have faced in my life. My Mother has lung cancer, and it has not been easy for me (Or anyone else who loves her.)

This is my story, though, and I will be posting now and then about the challenges, solutions, tools I am using, and how well that is working for me as I live through this (One Day At A Time.)

I have not reached the part in my blog about my recovery… but I will.

“Dry Ice” will walk us all through that process… and none of us (Including me) know where the path will end.

It starts today, and it starts with me having exactly 6 years, 3 months, 17 days, 3 hours, and 26 minutes clean.

We know each other by sight. A meth addict can spot another tweeker most of the time, and we weren’t fooling anyone in the neighborhood. A friend of our roommate’s came over and introduced himself, and offered us some “Shit.”

It took about a week – maybe two. My addiction travels with me. Other addicts can see that about me.

So much for my Geographical Recovery. By the end of that night, we had traded away a lot of our valuables to get some more, and it was “On” again.  The trip to the bay area was about five hours round trip. The guy we met in town wasn’t a reliable source, so we found ourselves driving back and forth to the bay to get dope. It was rediculous.

The condo in Jamestown wasn’t the kind of place I was accustomed to living in. I worked night shifts, slept during the day (Sometimes,) and it was very apparent that the building codes in this area weren’t like where I had come from. The condo accross from us had obviously been on fire at some time before we arrived; the condo’s were two units each, and there was a family living in the side that hadn’t been burned.

I woke up one day to find a mouse on my pillow, watching me sleep. That was when I decided we weren’t going to stay there anymore, and we moved up to the “High Country,” above the snowline.

Life was good. I had my own place again. Nobody knew me, I had a good job, and I could start my life all over again.

We got another dog, we got new “Stuff,” it was like a whole new life.

We also got new neighbors, and we got “Lucky,” because our new neighbors were cool. They liked to have fun, they liked to party, and we moved right back into a situation where we could party, work, and “Hide.”

 The Geographical Cure for my addiction didn’t work for me. My location changed, but my addiction travelled with me. My job changed, but the people I worked with only knew me as the “New Nurse,” not “Party Girl.”

Everything was new – my address, my job, my partner, my cars – I even got a new dog.

What did not change was ME.

I remained the same. I was still sneaky, I was still incapable of managing my drug use, I was still pathologically incapable of being honest with myself.

What appeared to be a “New Start” in my mind was only a new location to keep doing the same shit… and that is EXACTLY what I did.

A mom, but still, an addict. Still using, still with a house full of bikers, loud music, and the lifestyle that goes with being an addict.

My kids got good grades in school. They were happy, they weren’t what I considered “Pansy” kids – they were “Cool” kids. They were pretty well behaved kids, which in my mind meant I was a good mother.

Here’s the thing, though. In spite of all the excitement (And there was plenty of that, and the details of a lot of it – I’m not at liberty to share, really. It would be stupid to do that) something was missing. I was always restless, I did do a lot of “Trouble Making” and a lot of fighting.

Meanwhile the kids dad was a musician with ties to a “Motorcycle Enthusiast’s Organization” so he was very involved with his own thing. I got restless in my marriage, and I did what a lot of meth addicts seem to do.

I met another man, and the end of that story is, I left the picket fence behind, along with the family, the dog, and everything else except a few clothes and one convertible sports car. I left, and I never went back there.

I used and shoplifted to eat and smoke, I got caught a few times but store managers always say “I don’t want to see you in this store again” I guess, because every time I got caught, I just left the store. Once a store security person (A woman) tried to slap a handcuff on me as I left the store. We went rounds in the doorway of the store… the automatic doors kept opening, closing, opening, closing…

I got smart and stopped fighting. I was pretty sure I was going to jail that time. I was covered with bruises from a different kind of a fight the day before – the kind that people are usually pretty forgiving towards woman about - and AGAIN, they let me go.

I had pork chops, green beans, and a package of rice. I will never forget that, because that was my kids dinner. Their father was in jail, Paul (My husband today) was in jail, and I had nothing to feed them.

Paul and the kids father were in jail because of a really shameful incident – the reason I was bruised up. Kids dad hit me, Paul hit him, pretty soon we were all fighting. The neighbors showed up. My son was only six, and he had to call 911. Meth paraphernalia and meth were in the house, but I didn’t live there anymore.

My friend cooked for me and my children, and I felt like a piece of shit. I had to change my life. I had to stop using, and I had to get out of the San Francisco / Oakland area and start my life over.

In December of 1996, I sold the only possession I had left (Besides the car.) My computer. I called a small county hospital in a place in the mountains, I applied to work in their inpatient psychiatric unit, and was hired.

I moved from the Bay Area about two weeks before Christmas to a place where I knew absolutely no one. I moved to a beautiful mountain county near Yosemite, and Paul and I had plans to get our lives together and bring the kids to the mountains.

I moved to Jamestown, California, in the area known as the Mother Lode in the central Sierra Nevada Mountains. I moved to what we all call “God’s Country,” and I wanted to try to make a new life, without meth.

When my children were young I remember life being fairly stable. Eventually, though, I began to invite people, places and things back into my life that led right back to “Old Behavior.”

I think it is important to note that I have stated that “I Invited” the chaos back into my life. Drugs didn’t walk in off the street, nothing forced itself up my nose, into a pipe and somehow smoked by me without my consent, and the people I associated with were people I chose to associate with.

I made a concious decision to use. I made a concious decision to hang aroud with people that I should not have had my children around (Although, my children were playing with their children.) I used at work, I used at home, I used constantly.

And, for many years, I was able to pull that off with consequences that were visible only to ME. Looking in from the outside, I gave the appearance of really having my shit together. I had all the “Stuff,” Cars, house, Harley, even the Picket Fence. I had the good job. I had a nice little family with well behaved children.

Everything seemed to be going fine. I thought I was pretty invincible, until one day in 1994 when I got a call from my boss who asked me to drive over to the other campus, so I did.

She asked to pee in a cup. After eleven years at the same job, someone finally turned me in. I hadn’t used in about 3 days at that time, so I thought everything was going to be fine – things were not fine.

The results of the test came back and I somehow tested positive for almost everything that they tested for. I tested positive for drugs I don’t remember using. I denied, I lied, I acted insulted…

But the tests don’t lie. I was given an ultimatum; go to a 28 day program, or be terminated. I didn’t want to lose my job. A friend knew about a rehab in the SF Bay Area I could go to, so I went there, signed up, paid the money, and was given a date to show up.

That day, I packed a trunk full of stuff, cried all day, and smoked a lot of weed. I left in the evening and went accross the bay to the rehab place, and knocked on the door. I was greeted, and told that I was not going to be allowed to stay once I got into the office. I asked why, and the guy (A counselor, I suppose,) said “You used today” and handed me my check back. I begged him to let me stay, but it wasn’t going to happen.

So, the “Functional Addict” was only functional for a while.

There is no such thing as a “Functional Addict,” because sooner or later addiction will catch up to you. Sooner or later, your meth use will show on your face, in your behavior, in your eyes.

People aren’t as dumb as we think they are when Methamphetamine gives us that feeling that we are invincible. What we are, in fact, is delusional to a greater or lesser degree. It’s just a matter of time before our covers get pulled.