Return

Yes, I'm alive. Yes, I still have this blog. Yes, I feel like the worst blogger ever for disappearing like I have. So, for the first time in forever I'm not making an excuse as to why I don't have the time to sit here and write. Though in my back of my head I'm telling myself to simply sit in this lovely jacuzzi tub with the last of my relaxing lavender salts, and wine, and just be still. Just once. Since I know myself well, I know that's not possible for my 100 mile per hour mind and I would quickly grab a book to fill the void. So, I figured I'd take the leap and return back to you all! 

And YES, I've watched Disney Frozen so much over the past couple of months that not only do I go to sleep singing the soundtrack in my head, and during the numerous times I typically wake up or am woken up by a little person throughout the night, but apparently the lyrics are now becoming a part of my daily lingo. Wonderful.

Aside from the incessant Frozen watching, reenactments and soundtrack singing, I do have a fairly good reason for my long absence. A couple of reasons actually. We have officially returned back to our home state! In fact, we are officially settled in our new home. Most rooms are done, most furniture is bought and boxes are a thing of the past. Best of all, we've met nearly all our neighbors and we are ecstatic that we found a neighborhood even better than we could have dreamed of for our forever home!

If the move alone isn't grounds for a bit of a blogging reprieve then perhaps my daughter starting her growth hormone replacement therapy is. If you've been around my blog for while then you may remember the plethora of tests we've gone through over the past couple years that left me in a bit of a state of anxiety laced with freak out, worry over things that can not be changed, mom mode. Well, I finally agreed to the 4 hour long growth hormone stimulation test, with the intent to tell everyone who was pushing for growth hormones to piss off once it was done. Didn't I get a surprise when the results came back that my little girl is in fact growth hormone deficient. We waited for our move and had an appointment with our new endocrinologist the first week we were in town. Less than two months later I was able to get her approved for medical assistance (thank God!), she was approved for GH (growth hormone) and we started home injections 10 days ago. Yikes! Even writing it all makes my head spin a bit. Oh, and my son decided to join the medical parade party and has been to the pediatrician 3 times, the allergist once and his new ENT once. Oh right, and an urgent care once. Despite getting tubes in December, we can't seem to shake an ear infection. Yes, all this in two months. 

So, please forgive me for leaving this little place in the dust and let's try to get back to all my self talk insanity, which I've been told helps some of you feel a bit less lonely in your own insanity! Hopefully no one has gone off the deep end these pasts months, aside from myself that is. And off the deep end I have plunged! A few times.

With that... On with the show!

I actually meant to write on Mother's Day. It was to be a vow to my kids that I felt I needed to get out of my head to make it more legit; making me stick to my words. Instead, I had an opportunity to teach my first yoga class since moving so I jumped at the chance. Then I helped my husband move 5 cubic yards of dirt into the raised garden we built. Good times.

Following that desire to get myself back here, I had one of my many epiphanies last week after a random online chat with my aunt. This major epiphany was that I can no longer be a grump butt (as we lovingly call the kids on those days we want to strangle them). I thought, hmmmm, maybe I should let all this self talk fly through my fingers in order to ensure it sticks, verses getting lost in this crazy head of mine.

Unfortunately, I didn't hit the computer and that little message to my inner self to stop being a grump butt only lasted through our home warming party last weekend. Basically, a couple days. I've since been back to letting others actions dictate my mood. I continue to have this ridiculous notion that if someone does something I don't like, or worse yet, that they promised me they wouldn't and then do it anyway, that me being pissed off at them (and the rest of the world for that matter) will make them... I don't know what I think it will make the person do. Stop their behaviors? Do what they say they will? I really don't know.

I know this. Yelling does not make anyone do anything different. And it makes me feel 100 times worse. Threats may work in the moment but, in the case of my kids, am I seriously going to throw away ALL their toys? As a former behavior specialist, I am more than well aware that idle threats will never work. Mainly because the person knows you won't follow through as much as you know it! I tend to remember counting to ten, leaving the room and deep breaths after I'm beyond the point of reason. The result... I stay mad. I actually hold a grudge over my kids not listening at this point, I'm that frustrated. So, that anger lingers through the day, and the night, and then I'm woken up 2 or 3 times throughout the night so I wake up tired and cranky and still angry and we start all over again. Because being in a perpetual state of anger is clearly a sure fire way to make others do what you ask and expect of them. I'll show them, ummm, or not. 

The same goes for my husband. Which is where this all began, as many of you know. My emotional state tends to be 100% centered around his drinking. The good days are clear to all who know me and the bad ones are just as obvious. Considering I have that erroneous notion that holding on to my anger will create some sort of change, the bad days tend to linger even when we could enjoy a lull in the madness. Though I still feel I've made positive strides, there's days, and weeks, I feel I take 10 steps back. And that is likely why when I took a silly survey last night and it asked about my best friend, I had no clue how to answer the question. I sat for a long time trying to decide who my best friend even was anymore. I'd guess Craig would have to do the same thing. Which is really. really. sad. 


The worst part of psychoanalyzing my thoughts and actions is that I KNOW what I need to release my insanity. I know what I need to do. The part that makes me feel as though I'm teetering on true insanity status is that I continue to not to follow through on what I know must happen and what I need. It's that ugly feeling of being out of balance with oneself. This is why each day I hear the words of one of my favorite fellow boys from the Tribe, Albert Einstein, rattling around in my head.... Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Yup, that's me.

So, with that daily realization, I have returned to this little blog. I can't promise to dedicate as much time as I did in the past, but I intend to try. My hope in doing so is to return to my more sane state of being, which I managed to find here before. Being open and honest about our struggles seems to be the missing piece right now. That and more yoga. And as always, I hope this quest for my own sanity helps others realize they aren't alone in their daily struggles that life happily, and indiscriminately, hands out to each one of us.


I'll return soon friends. Until then, be well.

If you have a loved one you lost in the line of duty, I hope this weekend has you reminiscing of fond memories and I thank you and your lost loved one for their service. As well as all who fight for our country.

Namaste!

5774

L'shana Tova Tikatevu... May you be inscribed (in the Book of Life) for a good year.

 

Miriam awakening us with the shofar!
Picture credit Jacob's Bones

 

Saying shana tova during Rosh Hashana seems like such a simple phrase. No more powerful than "good morning" for instance. Often equated to Happy New Year, yet in reality it's such a profound and moving sentiment. Wishing someone life for another year. And not just any life, but a good life. Isn't that what we all want each day? Simply a good life? Something that isn't always so simple.

I love the High Holidays because they are so powerful. The simple becomes meaningful and intense. The mundane that often accounts for our daily comings and goings suddenly reminds us that there is purpose in every step. Every word we speak can impact us and those around us. Every thought we have emits an energy into the world that has a ripple effect. Every breath we take literally IS life.

The High Holidays make us stop and remember that there is more than just us and our simple lives of work and carpooling and soccer practice and swimming lessons. There is more than just us and our pains, our sorrow, our grief for those we have lost. These days remind us that we are just a tiny part of this immense universe, yet our place here is essential and it means something. Even if we are unsure of what.

While I tend to be reflective about my life and ways I can better myself throughout the year and I also tend to be brutally hard on myself when I don't live up to my own expectations of humanity, love and compassion, such contemplation on a daily basis that the High Holidays evokes would drain us of life. I think. It would be all consuming to ponder our purpose and existence in the universe each moment of each day, 365 days per year. There must be balance in order to fulfill that "good life" this holiday wishes for each of us.

During the High Holidays I tend to be even harder on myself than I already am daily. My imperfections can crush my heart as I think back over the year about some of the awful things I've thought, said and done, even to those I love the most. I tend to forget to reflect on all the good. In a way that's okay since this is a time to repent, to ask family and friends for forgiveness. To ask God for forgiveness for all those times I didn't live up to the image God created me in. But we should never forget the good in each of us. The good is hope and hope is fundamental for improving.

The High Holidays are a time to create and renew personal vows of betterment. It's a time to remind us of who we desire to be and to actively work harder to become that person. Imagine if every single person took such a short period of time each year to do such a thing the kind of world this would be?! We truly would create a heaven on earth, as it was meant to be. Such a thought always makes me smile. Always gives me hope.

This is a time of year I push aside the reality of all the hate that exists. Of the wars and senseless deaths and murder. Of the horrific crimes against humanity that are taking place in far too many places even as I type right now. I can't think of those things. It is too overwhelming to think of how much work the world needs to be better. This is the one time each year I can 100% focus on being a better ME. A better mother. A better wife. A better daughter and friend. A better person. It's a time to be selfish in a way. For me, it is in the selfishness it takes to be a better person where one can achieve selflessness, which is precisely what this world needs.

While all of this is moving and powerful beyond measure, one aspect of the High Holidays I love and have been dwelling on this year is the annulment of past vows. Not vows like marriage vows, but more new year resolutions type of vows. There are a number of specifics regarding this annulment bit, but for me it's a relief to let go. I set new resolutions each year and each year I feel awful as I read all the things I promised myself I would do to be that better person and then never fulfilled. It's a chance to let go. To start new. To make new vows to myself, with God. To work harder to fulfill them this year. It provides me the opportunity to let go of past regret without guilt.

Ironically, this is the one part I struggle with the most! The High Holidays grant us this "pass", yet letting go of past guilt and regret remains my greatest challenge. It's possibly the most significant hindrance in my quest for being the best me I can be. And now I sound like a US Army commercial. Oy vey!

Seriously though. This year, instead of my usual list of lofty vows which I rarely keep, at least not for long, I've decided... as in at this moment I just decided... that my only vow will be, to let go. To believe in this little piece of the High Holidays, the annulment of past vows, and just. let. the. past. be. It may not be the traditional take on this annulment of vows thing. It certainly doesn't encapsulate what the High Holidays stand for. But trying to improve who I am each day so I can shine a brighter light into this world, which I see as desperately craving more light, certainly is what the High Holidays stand for. To me anyway. That and true repentance for all the wrongs I've done to not live up to that said light filled human being God wants me to be. And that of course.

So, just one vow this year. Easy. I mean, I've only been working on this particular part of myself for over a decade now. Well, this one vow plus writing more. And since you're reading this, I guess I'm starting 5774 off pretty well so far!

Jewish or not, I'd love to hear what you strive for to be a better you each day. In the end, it's all we really can be.

Namaste, Shalom and Shana Tova my friends!

 

Barbra Streisand singing Avinu Malkeinu. Breathtaking!

This song encapulates the High Holidays for me.

 

Mirror Image

I've found people have been irritating me more than usual lately. Or I should say, I'm allowing myself to be bothered by others words and actions. I'm choosing to get frustrated, angry, annoyed...

This isn't exactly a new occurrence. I've always had this love/hate relationship with the human race. Ironic since my career choice was therapy. Though I've changed gears a bit in how I help others find mental clarity, health and wellness through the beauty of yoga, I still chose to work with people. I still desire to see each person I know reach their full potential, to find fulfillment, happiness, and whatever it is their life was destined for. I still feel a part of my destiny is to be a resource for those who wish to use me as one in seeking their path of light and love.

All this makes me analyze my feelings all the more when I find myself so bothered by people and wish everyone could just be a bit more like my dogs, minus the barking at anything that moves and trying to eat strangers part. So basically these past couple weeks I've been stuck in my head psychologizing myself like a good former therapist would do when faced with such a dilemma.

My conclusion came to me the other day and solidified while watching Dexter the other night. No, I'm not a sociopath with an inherent need to kill bad people, sorry, poor foreshadowing on my part. Actually, it's so simple that the fact I still have over 30k in student loans staring me in the face every month makes me a bit nauseated. So, what's the deal? What did I realize? Wait for it....
Sorry, I couldn't resist that one.

Anyway, it turns out that my love/hate relationship with the human race is a mirror image of my love/hate relationship with myself.

Bam! There it is. Profound, I know.

Seriously though, because this is a serious matter. Every time I find myself feeling less than pleased with my fellow (wo)man I can find everything that upsets me about them within myself. A lot of it is from days long ago when, at times, I behaved very differently than I do now. As such, when I realize a person lies, no matter how small, I get very irritated. Angry. Depending on the lie, it can lead me to feel loathing and see red, as some say. Perhaps even feel a bit Dexter-esque! Mostly though, it's little lies from people I may not even be all that close to that have been annoying me. Maybe it's all the lies I hear from living with an alcoholic that combine to make a "little" lie that really doesn't matter weigh on me. Mostly though, I think that it's the fact that I used to lie in such ways.

Example... one time a friend and I didn't feel like studying for an exam so we spent our time concocting this elaborate story about getting a flat tire and being stuck in Pittsburgh and not being able to make it back to school until the next day. Then we were able to take the exam in an office which enabled us to "share" our knowledge. A flat tire? Seriously?! How did a professor believe that ridiculousness? In the grand scheme of life, it's not such a big deal, not like the lies I endure almost daily. Regardless, I don't like that I used to be that person. I don't like when others remind me of that person.

I find myself getting really upset when people talk about others. Known as Lashon Hara in Judaism. I used to be that person too. "hey, check out that shirt she's wearing." "Did you hear what so and so did last night?" "Can you believe... blah, blah..." Gossip is as bad as slander which is as nasty as any evil thing a person can do to another. Not only does it send out unnecessary negative energy that we then have to work extra hard to counter with some positive vibes for the universe, it's simply mean. You can say, stick and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, in your best na-na-na-na-boo-boo voice but it's simply not true. Words are our most powerful weapons against each other because we all have access to them. They CAN hurt beyond repair. Even if the person you're talking about never knows you spoke them, you know. They are in your heart; your mind. They may even be true. Gossip often is true. But that doesn't make it right.

I can't honestly say I never engage in lashon hara anymore, but I sure do my best to not only watch my words but also my thoughts. Just because I don't comment on how ridiculous someone looks aloud these days, doesn't mean I don't think it sometimes. Along with many other thoughts and sometimes spoken comments that could have been left unsaid. Hey, I'm human! And I shop at WalMart once in awhile. Enough said.

Bottom line though, thoughts are a powerful energy. They can hurt.... and they can heal. These days I try to focus on the healing energy, because God knows, we all need to heal in some way or another. 

I get irritated when people can't see the error of their ways. When they can't admit they were wrong. Now this one is probably my most challenging work in progress. However, like I tell my husband, I tend to stick with things I know. Which means, I often am right! I don't talk just to talk. Unless I've been drinking, which is rare these days. If I discuss something, it's usually because I am at least fairly well informed on the subject. If it turns out I'm not, I can admit that. But... when it's a topic I know I'm well informed on and I'm sure I'm right, I get very frustrated when others can't see it my way. You know, the right way!

This frustration is predominately with my husband and most often surrounding parenting. Now, I'm no expert on parenting, that's for damn sure. But, I am well educated regarding human behavior and human development and when it comes to my kids, no one knows them better. I am with them 24/7/365, so when I talk to him about the importance of consistency, among other fundamental concepts that pertain to raising them, and he continues to do what I feel is sabotaging everything I work on with them each day during his hour of fun time each night, I get VERY irritated.

A lot of this boils down to not feeling like he's an equal partner in the parenting process due to his drinking. This often goes back to my nasty thoughts which puts negative energy out in our grand universe and I don't like this about myself. I don't like it about others either. Thus, people have been irritating me more lately! All the negative energy spewing out into our world. It's sad really.

What I've found is that each time someone reminds me of something I loathe about myself, my disdain for the human race begins to seep back in again. It breaks through that barrier of love I work on each day and slowly builds back up with each reminder. I start to only see the reminders; all the parts of me I can't stand. And as a result, I can't stand anyone. Even every little thing my kids do drives me crazy. Which in turn makes me a craptastic mommy during those times, which simply builds on that self hate and loathing of all people who remind me I'm being a craptastic mommy! 

Whew. That's some viscous cycle, I know! Really, I know. 

Now, have no fear. I also have the solution. Mainly because I've had to break free from this many times. The only way out is love. It's that simple. And that hard. That's sort of the epitome of the whole love/hate relationship after all. 

The difference this time is that now I know why I find myself so darn pissed at others and why my faith in humanity wax and wanes so often. I have placed yet another valuable piece to the jigsaw puzzle known as my life. It's not that I can't stand people, it's simply that I can't stand myself, or parts of who I used to be anyway. I can't control other people and what they do. But, I can control myself and how I act; who I am. I learned that long ago and made some changes. Changes I'm happy with. Which means there is always hope for humanity. There's always hope for me. And as long as I dig deep, there's always love.

The most important love is for oneself. If you don't love yourself, you can't love others. Next would be for others, family, friends... But love for those you don't feel deserve it, enemies if you will. Now that's the epitome of love. If I'm not for myself, who will be for me? If I'm not for others, what am I? And if not now, when? Yes, it all goes back to the beginning. The words that changed me.

Ultimately, it's really the guilt from my past that I hate, not me. But guilt is a whole other nasty pile of dog doo doo for another post, another time. You love those cliff hangers, huh?!

In the meantime... this song is one of my top 5 favorite of all time and it tends to remind me of this whole love solution thing. So... enjoy, and may you all find and hold on to your love.

 

A Story to Tell

This isn't my story to tell, but it's one I feel should be shared. Since I'm the one who writes and has a blog, then I will must be the one to write it. I'll get the necessary permissions to make it public, even though with a simple google search you can read archived news articles, if you know what to look for.

This story is my husband's story. It is his brother's story. It's his whole family's story, thus I guess it technically does make it mine now too. I didn't live the tragedy but I live the aftermath of it every day. My kids are directly impacted everyday because of one moment in time before they were ever even dreamed of. There are some events that occur that change a person's course in life. Once changed it has a ripple effect that spreads to every person they meet. This story is one of those events that stopped time for a split instant and set each of us on a new path. I was meant to meet Craig. And marry him. And bear his children. I've always known this. Thus, this event ultimately changed my course, without me even knowing it.

This story is one of tragedy, a story of dreams shattered, a story of too many lives irrevocably altered in an instant. It's a story you read about and your heart aches for that family. It's a story you pray to God never comes to haunt your life. It's a story you warn your kids about when they start driving. It's a story that keeps parents up at night until they hear that car pull safely into the driveway after prom, a night out with friends, or a party after winning a big wrestling match.

My husband's car carrying him and his best friend, his brother Mike, never pulled in after that party.

Instead, his parents got the worst wake up call a parent could get, as they thought their boys were sleeping over where the party was. My husband had been drinking and did go to sleep but when he woke up a little before 2am he got his brother to go home. His brother offered to drive but he only had his junior license so Craig said no. Though his BAC wasn't excessively high, it was over the legal limit of that time. Granted, any amount in an 18 year old is illegal. After spending all week making weight and wrestling earlier that evening his body was physically exhausted, as any wrestler can attest to. The drinking certainly didn't help. My husband dozed off about a mile from home on a long winding road with a speed limit I feel is still too high for such a road. In that instant his eyes closed he swerved off the road and hit a tree. And then some more trees. Neither he nor his brother were wearing their seat belts.

When Craig came to he saw his brother. He thought he was dead. He wasn't. But he suffered permanent brain damage which has left him confined to a wheelchair since that fateful February day 16 years ago. Mike was in a coma for some time and then underwent treatment and extensive rehab to relearn everything. he needed to retrain his brain to talk, eat, drink, move his body and walk again. Though his brain still doesn't tell him to walk or use his left hand he can take some steps with support and he's come a long way over the years. When I met him a few years after the accident he still had to get fluids through a tube because his brain didn't tell him he needed to drink and he still didn't say all that much.

Now, he does volunteer work at Good Sheppard, where he spent a great deal of time rehabbing, he has worked at a local gym and remains the funny, good natured guy that everyone in their small town knows and has always loved. I can see a part of who he was in the man he's become, despite needing almost constant care, provided by his mother. While he remembers everything up until the accident, his short term memory remains remarkably impacted from his injury. Along with a number of other body movements and functioning.

Why do I feel this story needs told? Because I believe everything happens for a reason, even the tragedies of our lives. I've written this time and time again if you're a regular here. I tell my husband this because he can not see how anything good possibly came from "killing his brother". Which is what he told me he did when I met him 3 years after the accident. Imagine my surprise when I went home with him for the first time and met Mike! To my husband though, his best friend died in that accident. To my husband, he took his brothers future, his hopes and dreams, any chance at the kind of life everyone envisions having. Marriage, kids, maybe a state wrestling title, as his brother was quite talented. He can't get past what could have been and focus on what is and all that Mike has accomplished. He graduated high school. He's a volunteer. He works. He even has a prestigious award named after him at his high school!

He doesn't have the life everyone dreamed of during his first 15 years of his life, but he is alive. He blesses everyone he knows with that each and every day. That blessing also rips my husbands heart out each time we visit.

I can't say how I would live with such guilt. All I know is there must be a reason. And there must be good to come of this. Craig was sentenced to tell his story to local schools rather than being sentenced to prison. While I think this was more beneficial to his family, than to deal with one son in a coma, one in prison and a younger one essentially left to grow up much too quickly, these talks started too soon after the accident. Their only impact for my husband was to repeatedly retraumatize an already distraught 18 year old whose life just changed forever.

But... if even one kid in one of those rooms stopped before getting behind the wheel because they remembered his story.... Maybe that saved one kid and that kid's parent's the pain and heartache Craig's family has had to endure. Maybe OUR kids will think of their uncle mike and remember to put their seat belt on every. single. time. they get in the car. And God willing, maybe they will NEVER take a sip of alcohol and get behind the wheel, or get in the car with someone who is under the influence.

If my husband's daily, lifelong guilt and pain can save our children from the same fate, that has to mean something, right? Maybe me meeting Craig and having this blog, giving me the opportunity to share this story can prevent you or your child from the same fate. But still, I feel there must be more than that. Granted, saving one life would be enough, I don't think my husband is capable of seeing it that way. Even with all his responsibilities as a father and husband, I have no doubt he would trade his life without a second thought if it meant giving his brother back the life he feels he took.

So what's more? What else good can there be? I've said it before but I truly don't think our children would exist had this accident not changed my husband's course. Yes, he was accepted to Penn State at the time of the accident but he still had an Ivy League option to consider and some scholarships as possibilities at smaller schools. He ultimately chose Penn State for the cost and to remain close(ish) to home during his brother's recovery. Had he not made that decision, it's doubtful we would have met, but hey, anything's possible I guess. And while I imagine I would have children, they wouldn't be these children had we not met. To me, THAT makes a world of difference. That's the good in all this for me. Our kids bring joy to my mother in law, whose life was altered just as dramatically as my husband's after that day. She deserves the joy my two monsters being her. That's the good.

Who's to say Craig wouldn't be even worse off with his drinking if he hadn't met me and become a father? One day we will be responsible for taking care of his brother and if his alcoholism got completely out of control, as in he couldn't hold a job, pay bills or otherwise function other than to drink, he would not be able to take on that responsibility. While that is a moot point had the accident never happened, it doesn't mean he wouldn't have become an alcoholic anyway and potentially destroyed his own future in some way.

Everything, absolutely everything happens for a reason. I read about parents starting these remarkable foundations to honor their children who were taken too early. Whether by illness, accident or crazy people shooting up a school. People everyday deal with tragedy. To me, it's not about getting through it and surviving, it's how you choose to live despite it. To me, focusing on whatever good can come from the most horrific thing life hands you is the only way to honor those we love and this one life we've been given.

Now, I certainly can't stop a drunk driver from crashing into my own car.  Many things in life, such as that, are simply out of our control.

I also can't make my husband see things the way I do and to find the good and focus on it. I can't make you wear your seat belt. I can't make everyone I meet talk to their kids about not drinking and driving. I can't make anyone not get in a car with someone under the influence. But those things ARE in our control. Each and every one of us can make these choices. Like me choosing to share this story with all of you. With the hope that you remember it someday when it matters most.

This isn't some mock crash you watch before prom in your high school parking lot.
This isn't a story you read about a stranger far away and think, oh how sad, then just forget and go out drinking that weekend without a designated driver or a plan for how to safely get home. If you read this blog then in some ways, you know me. You have read how this one decision to drive home after a night out drinking can change absolutely. everything. Any one decision can alter not only your course in life but the lives of people you've never even met yet. A snap decision to drive after drinking, or get in the car with someone who has been drinking, or doing drugs, can in essence change the entire world with it's ripple effects. And THAT, we all have the ability to control.

I pray that this reality never becomes a story that any of you need to tell.

Leaving our annual Phillies game to celebrate Mike's birthday.

The Addiction Detour

For some time now I've been a bit dismayed at the lack of understanding a substantial number of people have regarding alcoholism. Or addictions in general. There's a wealth of information out there and more research than anyone could ever sort through so it's frustrating to hear the common stereotypes and judgements day after day.

Addicts can't just stop. It's not a matter of lack of strength or will. Though often it is a lack of understanding of what's going on inside themselves and how to work through it. It may be a lack of resources. And often fear plays a powerful role. Fear and love are our two most influential emotions as humans. Alcoholics don't love being an addict. Heck, they typically don't have much love for themselves at all. They simply don't know any other way to be. Or they have forgotten that there is another way.

Alcoholics are all different. They come from different cultures, different religions, different upbringings, have different problems and live a variety of lifestyles. It's sort of like how cancer is different for everyone. There's countless forms of cancer that present in various ways for all different types of people. There are ways of treating each kind for each person. Sure, there are the basic, tried and true protocols but that doesn't mean that will be the best course for everyone. Everyone wants to know if my husband is in AA or doing this or trying that. He's tried a variety of things. In my opinion, he's never tried anything long enough to give it a fair chance. But it's not my recovery so I really can't say. I don't know what treatment will work for him but the judgements for not doing it one way or another do not help him find his way.

The symptoms of alcoholism look different for each person too. Yes, many symptoms are the same which is why AlAnon groups can be so helpful for those of us who love an addict. The manipulation, the lying, the Jekyll and Hyde personality... that is pretty universal for any addict, that I know of, whatever their addiction may be. Some alcoholics drink every single day. Some hold good jobs and others are in and out of work because they drink on the job or can't wake up for work from drinking at night. Some are stumbling and slurring and clearly drunk. There are others you may not be able to tell unless you are very close to them and see that person daily because the differences can be so subtle. Some have many legal issues, some a few, some have been lucky. Some go on all day binges for a few days or a week. Maybe longer. Some are able to refrain from drinking for a few days or a week. Or longer. Though, saying someone isn't an addict because they are able to refrain from drinking for a short time is like saying someone isn't diabetic because their sugars have tested normal for a week straight! And it really isn't supportive of the family who lives with a loved ones addiction struggle to minimize it.

The use of alcohol is a symptom, not the problem. Which is why alcoholism is a disease. Yes, it's a disease of choice in a way because you have to choose to take that first drink, but most people in this world have had at least one drink before. And I'd venture a guess that most of them had a drink to "relax" or to help take the edge off of a crappy day at some point or another. What if you have a whole month of crappy days and found that drink really helped? Maybe you'd think, why not have one the next day, and the next, and then it's two drinks, and so on and so on. If there are other things going on in that person's life and they don't have another outlet or are not very in touch with themselves or their emotional needs, well, that disease can grab hold like a parasite seeking it's next host. Then, it's no longer a choice. And most don't realize when it wraps its claws around them until its too late.

Everyone wants someone or something to blame when things aren't as they "should" be. It's human nature to need a reason. So it's easy for people to think it must be the alcoholics fault. They can choose to take a run to work out their issues, journal what's driving them to drink or just care more about those begging them to stop. If only it was that simple. Just like you can't wish the tumor away or for your pancreas to work the way it's designed, you can't just stop being an addict. Cancer needs treatment to kill it and your pancreas needs medicine to regulate your blood sugar. Addicts can't be saved by your love, but they need it all the same.

Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean the person who loves them has to stick around and watch their demise. Or possibly worse, go down in flames with them. And I've never been shy about admitting it's hard as hell to hold on to the love for that person you can't see anymore because they've  been swallowed up by their disease. All I know is that person is still in there somewhere.

I think the most challenging part for people to understand about addictions is that they just are what they are. My husband might be having a great day, a perfect day in the eyes of some. And out of nowhere the next thing you know he starts to change. Eventually I notice that he's getting more drunk each minute. If people are around they will ask, what happened? Did I do something wrong? Why did he drink? I thought we had a nice day... They need a reason. They need something or someone to blame. The truth is, there's nothing, no reason. It's simply the way the disease works.

As I sit here and explain all of this and fully understand it myself, there are many times when I am that person... the one questioning, baffled by his "choice" to drink for seemingly "no reason", blaming something I must have said or did that set him off. I think... if I just loved him more, was more understanding, more patient... It's probably why I get so frustrated with everyone who doesn't get it. It's that same part of me I'm frustrated with. It's my frustration for not fully accepting that this is how the disease works. It's so hypocritical of me in many ways. I mean, I had an addiction! I know this is how it works. I know no one made me restrict my food or purge it, and I know at a certain point it was no longer a choice of mine but it was this nasty disease that took over who I was.

Alcoholism... addiction... it changes a person. It becomes that person when they are in its clutches. The real person is still in there though. There are breakthrough times where you can see that person they truly are, times when their addiction takes a break from preoccupying their every thought of how to get it, where to hide it, when to drink it, how to not get caught.... Addiction is a full time job and it can drive you insane. There's so many lies to keep up with, people to manipulate to maintain your secret and new ways of perfecting your ability to hold on to your self destructive safety net of coping and survival. It's exhausting. I mean truly. exhausting.

I was lucky to only be sucked in by my eating disorder for a year. But I lost a year of my life to this way of thinking. The manipulation was endless. How to hide how little I ate and if I couldn't do that then how to hide that I was purging that food. It's quite difficult when you live with your parents in a small house. I also had a lot of after school activities so I'd have to find a secluded bathroom at school where I could lock the main door or make up lies about when I ate and on and on. Every addict masters the same tricks of secrecy for their chosen addiction. The alcoholic puts the alcohol in a different bottle, the bulimic uses running water to hide the sound of vomiting... addicts that are able to hide their addiction are really quite clever individuals.

I don't have the answer. I wish I did. Some people are able to just stop. It's rare, but it happens. Some people struggle their whole lives, breaking free for a time and being swallowed up by this disease over and over again. Some people find other behaviors that aren't self destructive to replace the ones that are killing them. Some get to the real problem and work through that and their symptoms of drinking, manipulation, lying, hiding... are able to melt away and they find their true selves. I was lucky to be so self reflective at a young age. Though my quest to being my true self continues, as you all can attest to. There's no one right path to being disease free. I wish there was. And just as much, I wish others would understand this. I wish the stereotypes would cease to exist surrounding addictions and mental health issues in general.

In the end, we are all just human. We all have a purpose. We all need to figure out our purpose and our path to fulfillment, to happiness. Some take detours. No one likes detours. Alcoholics don't like the path they are on. It's simply ignorance to assume that. People who are depressed don't like being depressed. There may be something holding them in those places, something that's comforting in a way, but no one enjoys being unhappy. Trust me. Being on a detour to your true path and your true self doesn't make you weak or uncaring. It doesn't make the person selfish or ungrateful for the blessings in their lives. It's just where they are right now.

I pray that each person stuck on a detour can find their way in this lifetime. One thing I do know is that no day is the same. We have an opportunity to change direction each morning we wake up because quite simply, that's another day we are alive! The only other thing I know is that each and every one of us deserves to be on that path of contentment. Judging where anyone is on that journey only detours our own happiness.

Namaste.

Hmmm, Three?

After Caleb was born, I was 99.5% sure he was my last. He would be my baby. Two was quite enough! It was perfect, one hand for each kid, we wouldn't be out numbered, one sibling wouldn't be left out or feel like the black sheep. They would either be best friends or do their own thing. We wouldn't go broke and best of all, no way we'd ever need a mini van!

NO, no, no, I'm NOT pregnant!

But lately, the more I think about my baby turning 2 in two very short months the more I miss it. Not the sleepless nights or screaming. Or trying to figure out what the hell they want and feeling like you're going to rip your hair out. I don't miss the diapers; which I still deal with BUT I've been so excited about the boy's interest in potty training and can see the light at the end of the tunnel with that one! I don't miss the baby food and complete helplessness.... But I miss something.

I have this urge to feel that tiny life growing and doing yoga in my belly. I forget all the pains and exhaustion and overwhelming desire to just get the baby OUT during those last couple months. For a few weeks now those memories are masked by this longing I can't quite describe. Maybe it's the bond, the excitement, knowing our lives are about to change forever. When I used to get antsy like this it just meant it was time for me to move to a new state or make some big change in my life... not have a baby!!

I also realized I miss nursing. To be honest, that sometimes makes me shake my head because in the midst of exclusively breast feeding I feel a bit trapped after awhile. Especially with my son who was not interested in a bottle and I even had to throw out some pumped milk that he refused to drink. The stress over the fluctuations in milk production and weaning and watching what you eat, what medicines you take or when you have a glass of wine can really start to take it's toll. Yet, I think I would extend breast feeding to at least a year and a half, given another chance. Ironic, I know. Maybe I'm just depressed that some men have larger breasts than I do at this point! Whatever it is, I miss it and feel a bit sad with the realization I won't have that type of bond again. Or at least that would be beyond awkward at this point!

I mentioned recently how I've been thinking a lot about how quickly it all goes. How fast children really do grow up. How the problems of refusing to clean up their play room and throwing food, potty training and fighting over who has which truck rapidly become worrying about whether you've taught them well enough to recognize "stranger danger", other dangerous situations and people that would hurt them, or worse. And then praying they fully grasp the dangers of drugs or drinking and driving and (gasp) unprotected sex, and on and on. Maybe I just want to prolong those worries a bit by still having the "easy" worries of a younger child to contend with.

I think about how exciting it would be to NOT find out the gender of this imaginary child. Since we have one of each, it really doesn't matter to me and there are few things in life that can be a true surprise like that. I still have some names I love and would be excited to use. I would love to honor my Pap by naming one of my children after him. Though I would be sad he never had the chance to meet them.

And then... I remember all the reasons why we said we were done! I'm not sure I have those newborn months in me again. While the kids really are getting easier, my patience is shot and it's nice to have this opportunity to rebuild it a bit. Rylie still sleeps in our bed which would cause some issues. Most of all, Craig is no where near in a solid recovery and there's no chance I would have another baby with anything less than a completely sober husband for life.

That may be part of it. Or all of it even. The broken promises and hopes that this time is it, only to find him drunk again after doing so well. This baby urge might be a replacement for my intense desire for my husband to beat this disease and losing hope each time he drinks again. The urge to have a baby is in some ways more tangible for me. I've felt it before, I know that feeling. It gives me a similar sense of happiness and fulfillment, joy, longing even, the same emotions I feel when I think of my husband maintaining his sobriety for life. Or at least a few months. The same emotions I have when I think of what our life could be like, can be like. WILL be like.

It's human nature to want what you "can't" have. This urge may be as simple as that. It also may be my yoga practice that's opening up all these channels for me. Maybe this is simply in the cards. I always said 2 or 3... until we had our first and saw what it can be like. Then we realized not everyone was lying after #2 popped out. Some kids are easy, some not so much. We have one of each, maybe we shouldn't press our luck.

Or maybe I should stop giving all our baby stuff away!

Who knows what's to come. It's the beginning of a new year. So, I guess time will tell if 2013 will be the year to fulfill these urges or desires. And which ones! The duck needs to come before the egg though. In this case anyway. So, I wait to see if Craig can really stay sober this time and I wait to see if this baby urge will simply subside. I'm 35 now so waiting much longer isn't something I'm interested in, but that urge is there and it's only growing stronger.

Remember, I did tell people if we ever lost our minds again and thought something like this might be a good idea for someone to slap us silly. Who wants that honor?



Ooooh, so I don't need 3 hands,
just more coffee?

Happy New Year everyone!

May this year bring you many blessings, much joy and just enough hardship to remind you to be thankful for each day!

Namaste.

Detachment

It's been WAY too long my friends. I had planned to write about my labyrinth walk on my birthday but then my birthday went to shit after that, thanks to a little thing called vodka. Now, it's 8 days later and I've now spent the weekend studying the Yoga Sutras and meditation, sans kids and husband I might add! Yes, this is the first time on my own since my kids were born. And yes, it's awesome... though it's quiet and I do miss them, it's awesome.

Anyway, my head is spinning with insights and information, as usual, and I'm not sure where this one will go because there are so many things I would love to share after such an intense and wonderful yoga filled weekend. One thing I keep coming back to is how I always felt like I've been searching for something my whole life. I really remember feeling this more around the age of sixteen, which I think I mentioned before, but I've been in my head asking questions about everything for as long as I can remember. Why are we here, why am I here, what's my purpose, how can I help make this world a better place, the place it was meant to be, and on and on, and on......

So, this thing I keep coming back to is that every time I find myself on a path towards more self awareness and inner peace I am always in awe at how each path is intertwined with the same exact message. From the self help books I read as a teenager, my counseling classes and learning about human nature/behavior, to delving into my religion and learning about Judaism and now focusing more on yoga, it really is ALL THE SAME in so many ways. The message is the same, the goal is the same.

We are here to reach our full potential and in doing so, we can make this world as it was meant to be. Everything is for a reason and we are all connected. We truly are.

That's a loaded statement, I know. It's no wonder I gravitate towards such paths in life. I "get it", I just have a hard time getting there and holding on so I keep searching for the "thing" that will help me hold on to this fulfillment I seek. There are many paths I could take discussing all this in a more philosophy sort of way, or a yogic way I should say, but to be honest, I don't want to freak anyone out. It can all get a bit "out there", for lack of a better word. So let's stick with a realization our teacher helped me come to today about myself.

One main reason I decided to do my yoga teacher training was to find more inner peace. My hope was to find this peace which I believed would enable me to better deal with living with my alcoholic husband, or to find the strength to leave by accepting he won't change, if it came to that. I felt this peace would help me to not to be so angry all the time, to not flip out and say mean and awful things and think even worse mean and awful things when my husband drinks. As I've said, I feel this anger is changing me, even starting to define me. I feel guilty for getting so angry because it's just not who I am and I don't like this angry person. Also, as a side effect from my goal of inner peace was to be a better mother, to provide my kids with a more emotionally stable environment.

While discussing the Yoga Sutras related to detachment this anger came up, and my inability to not get angry, and more so my lack of desire to not want to get angry. I want to be angry at him when he drinks because I think it's something reasonable to be angry about; something I should feel angry about and even say mean things to him because of. I feel it's a normal reaction to the situation, just like crying when a loved one dies. The thing is, I thought my anger was the problem. I thought my anger was causing my physical pains and the knotted muscles which my massage therapist simply can't fully work out no matter how often I find myself on her table.

What I realized today is that it's not my anger at all. My anger is OK. It is reasonable and it doesn't make me a bad person or even someone I'm not. It's my GUILT over feeling I shouldn't get so angry or say and think such mean things that's causing me all this pain. I mean, really, I am always in physical pain or simply feel nauseous or have a headache. But it's not the anger I need to detach from, it's the guilt. I need to allow myself this natural human reaction of being angry when a loved one lies to you, manipulates you, doesn't think about the safety of your children and refuses to work on reaching their own full potential in this life. It's OKAY to be angry about this. It doesn't make me a bad person and it doesn't have to change me or who I am.

So, this detachment thing just became so much more clear and easier for me. I need to detach from the guilt and let myself be human. I need to let the anger just be but not let it bother me or consume me. Be angry, but don't let it burn me. It sort of reminds me of the symbolism of burning bush Moses saw. The flames were there but they didn't consume or burn the bush to ashes. The bush remained in tact; whole. I can be that bush. At times I may be a flame of fire but when the time for that fire has passed I can be whole again.

This is an incredibly freeing realization. It's one my Rabbi tried to help me see over a year ago around Yom Kippur when I worried about not wanting to apologize to my husband for the mean things I had said. I knew I had hurt him but I felt an apology was futile because I would not mean it. He essentially told me this same thing. Maybe I just wasn't ready to hear it. Whatever the case, I am grateful I was ready to hear it and accept it now.

As always, this doesn't solve the very basic issue of my husband being an alcoholic and all the issues that go along with that when it comes to our life BUT, it does enable me to detach from these things and to continue on my path of peace and happiness. It enables me to continue to seek my full potential and to be a better mother. When it comes down to it, isn't that what we all desire?

Namaste my friends....until next time.

Yoga Sutras
Part 1
15. Non-attachment is the full knowledge of one's true nature, abiding as the seer, without clinging to objects of experience or objects described by others.

16. The higher form of non-attachment occurs when, due to identification with the eternal Self, one does not cling to the primary cosmic forces of creation.

Kriya Yoga Continuing the Lineage of Enlightenment by Ryan Kurczak

Mind and Body, Body and Mind

Wow! It feels like ages since I sat down to write. I've needed to but I just can't seem to find the time. I actually don't really have it now but I'm choosing to write anyway, for me.... to help me focus. And for you of course, but I'm not sure if this one will resonate with you all as much as some others have. I hope you can take something from it though.

My head is spinning with thoughts and revelations, ah-ha moments and quite simply lots of information. Almost too much information. I get excited, super pumped actually, like when I would start a new class in college or grad school and my mind would take off like I siphoned red bull right to my brain. I start to get all sorts of grand ideas and run away with them in my head, the possibilities seem endless and it's like the world looks new again. Then I become overwhelmed by it all and get a bit stressed. And round and round we go!   My yoga teacher training has been quite a whirlwind.

My big ah-ha moment came in class this week when discussing how to deal with the often intense emotions that can be forced out during a yoga practice. I nearly fell out of my chair! I had never told anyone that I get an overwhelming sense to cry during my practice at times. And here were were discussing how to deal with this, and other intense emotions, when they arise in one of our classes. Not only is it common but it's expected. I'm not crazy, hallelujah!

I'll admit, I never really delved into what yoga is really all about until I started my teacher training. I did my own practice for sometime and then went to classes for many years. I often had extended hiatuses from the comforts and joy my mat brings me but I always found my way back. Sort of like my faith, it called to me, it was in me. As I said, the actual poses came very naturally to me so I was just psyched I was so good at something without really trying all that hard. Oh my, oh my, not only do the poses go so far beyond what my mind can even comprehend my body ever being able to do but the poses aren't even a fraction of what yoga is really all about! See why my head is spinning? And there's more, much more.

I'm a bit behind the others in my class on this revelation, but I'm catching up fast. Well, it's more like putting the pieces together then catching up. I've always been a believer. I believe in a holistic approach to things. Even as a therapist this was my approach. A systemic approach to healing, not piece by piece, which to me doesn't repair the bigger issues but simply puts lots of bandaids on things, leaving you vulnerable. The mind and body are infinitely intertwined in how one effects the other and this has been proven to me time and time again. Though I'm always learning just how profound this connection is.

For example, I recently came to the realization that massage therapy is actually therapy. It turns out all my pains are a result of my stress and anger and anxiety which essentially builds up all sort of "junk" in my body.  That junk started to settle in and cause pain, specifically in my shoulders and a bit in my hips at times. The "junk" has a more medical term but for the sake of blogging, I figured junk works and it's what my massage therapist likes to call it too. Anyway, limiting and reducing the pain in my body has made a remarkable impact on my mental health. Go figure. Massage and my asana yoga practice help deal with all the physical junk which in turn helps my emotional junk and the wheels on the bus go round and round.

Well, the pains came back. The chiropractor helps some but it's the massages that really do the trick. And now, my yoga training has enlightened me to the marvels of essential oils. They make so much sense in this holistic approach to life I think is important. The sense of smell is powerful. It can conjure up memories of childhood, life events, happiness, sadness and every other emotion on the spectrum. If you think about it, many people who don't put up Christmas trees still buy evergreen scented candles, people who don't bake, may use an apple spice or pumpkin scent, and so on. Scents conjure up memories which can release deep emotions and deep emotions impact  well, everything. They can make or break us. Not only that, but the things in nature these oils are extracted from are there for a reason. Everything really is here for some reason or another, whether it's a food source, to provide oxygen, to cure us, everything exists and is dependent upon one another for all of our survival.

Oils go way back. You hear about them in the Bible. Some people may start there but for those who don't, like me, the people from biblical days got the ideas for their use from somewhere. Thus, oils go way, way back. And in many ways, people from way, way back were a heck of a lot smarter than we are today. Not in every way, of course, but they definitely got the whole everything in the world is connected and here for a reason piece of things. Oils cured ailments long before modern medicine and for many they still do today. So, I am starting to add these oils to my healing and life improvement box and hopefully they can help my mental state so the "junk" doesn't keep coming back. And maybe, just maybe, I can not only be pain free but free myself from this anger I often talk about here as well.

The way I see it, I need to do something. Something more. Some might think, oils, really? Why not just leave. Well, I feel that is the absolute last resort. Maybe it'll be necessary at some point, but until that day I can't live like this. Recently, I started wondering if all the frustration and anger I feel so often over my husband's alcoholism is changing me. If it has changed me. I worry this change might be permanent. I have to do something. Mood stabilizers might work in the way their name implies, stabilize my every changing mood, but it's one of those bandaids really. If my anger is actually changing me, my brain, by body, whatever, then I need something that can bring me back to me. I need something to jolt me back in that moment when the situation makes me lose my freakin' mind. And something that can stop the subsequent spiraling of everything making me lose my mind.

Some might think this natural medicine and holistic approach is silly business. Don't get me wrong, I'm not on some la-la-lu cloud or believe that everything about westernized medicine and pharmaceuticals can be likened to some evil empire. Some of it can be though. Bottom line, this is 2012 and I am well aware of the wonderful advances of modern medicine. We as humans have done remarkable things that enable us to not only cure but we have medicines that can provide people with a quality of life that generations of past didn't even dream of. I simply don't think everything is necessary and try to me mindful of what I'm putting in my body and why. That said, I happily accepted that handful of Xanax the doctor gave me this week, but for emergency use only. While I think all those momma's who do home births or go to a birthing center and use a midwife and/or doula are inspiring women, I will always consider an epidural to be my best friend. I'm a big ol' baby when it comes to pain and see no reason to be in pain if one doesn't have to be. I won't even suffer through a headache. I have too much to do and being in pain is quite frankly no fun for anyone, especially not with two loud little ones running circles around me. But, a pill will not fix this situation for me.

A pill won't take away my anger. The way I view things can. The physical practice of yoga can. Taking care of my body can. Being mindful of how I think and what I think and just being can. Being still. Being still in my thoughts can help bring me back to me. And some therapeutic massage and oils can only help in this process. I find the combination of the ways of our ancestors with the ability God gave us as humans to evolve, and use our past to transform things to work for us today, to be a blessing. Blessings don't always just appear before us, we have to be open to them, open minded to all the world has to offer. I for one will not give up or accept things as they are. I'll search and fight and try anything that can work to help make this one life we get as fulfilling as it can possibly be. One thing I know for sure, anger does not pave the way to a fulfilling life.

So, I'll keep on my yogi path. I'll keep learning and growing. It's a path that is more immense than I ever imagined yet so simple in many ways. When you make everything more simple well, everything just becomes easier. Profound, I know.

I Am......

I just wrote to you all yesterday. One from the heart that I put all my emotion into so I had planned to take a little break. BUT I came across this little self love challenge and well, I'm always up for a challenge, especially when it can help me on this little quest of constant self improvement.

I got this idea from You Know it Happens at Your House Too but if you start clicking through the links you'll find this has been a wonderful pass it forward sort of thing so I hope, whether you have a blog or not, you will try it out and post your response in my comments!

The rules it seems are to set your timer. I'm good at that as we have a lot of time outs in this house. There is also to be no proofreading, editing, etc. I'll be honest, I'm going to cheat just a bit there but only on the spelling, I won't edit. Promise.

Ready, set, go.....

I am an AWFUL speller. Thus my cheating. Which I often did to pass spelling tests as a child. Probably why I suck at spelling.

I am a mother. I often feel I'm not a great mother. Certainly not the mom I thought I'd be. BUT I try to be better each day and some days I do a pretty darn good job.

I am a wife. If you read my blog then you know I'm not always the best wife and my marriage has its issues. Moving on...

I am a daughter. My mom is my best friend. The one person I can ALWAYS count on.

I am loyal. I wasn't always.

I am a good friend but lately have slacked in friend duties and can't remember the last time I spoke to many of the friends I hold in my heart. I need to be better at that.

I am a yogi. At least I try. I'm great at the physical practice. A work in progress on the rest.

I am a person who loves people and always strives to see the best in everyone. Sometimes this can be a fault but I love it about myself.

I am passionate. There are things I believe in strongly and I fight for them with all I got.

I am a Penn Stater. Always and forever.

de-de-de-de-de-de-dede, de-de-de-de-de-de-dede. That would be my phone alarm :) So I am done.

Post your I AM..... below. Would love to know you are even if I already do!


PS- I just did my cheating thing and NO spelling errors!! AWESOME. yay me!

PPS- not many of you saw/read this. That's good. I didn't live up to this challenge very well. Some self love! I was such a Debbie downer, geesh. It's been a week. Wait, it's only Wednesday. Yeah, exactly. Anyway, check back for my 2.0 version tomorrow! I think this is a perfect thing to do everyday for oneself...no worries, I won't post one everyday! Night all.

My Honest Imperfections

During the Days of Awe I often find myself a bit more somber than usual. Sure, I have my usual moments of dealing with my husband's addiction that bring me down but as I contemplate my actions, thoughts and especially words from the past year I get down on myself. I mean, crazy down and hard on myself.

I truly try to live in a way that will better this world, in every way I can think of. Whether it be recycling, or just not being wasteful, to teaching my children the importance of respect for all life, from trees to animals and people. I work hard to watch how I speak to people, particularly those that offend me. I work even harder to not judge people, particularly those I consider ignorant, disrespectful or outright mean spirited. I find I often do not live up to my own standards.

I know I'm harder on myself than anyone else could possibly be and while I think I need to give myself some wiggle room for being imperfect as every human is, I tend to be unforgiving of my faults. So, during these days of reflection and making amends and promises to myself and God that I will strive to do better from here on out, I find it ironic to do these things all while treating myself in the exact way I am promising not to treat others!

Every year I realize this unforgiving tendency is one of my biggest character flaws because I do not save it for myself alone but I tend to be unforgiving of most things and people who I feel have wronged me or others. Now, I'm not talking about how my husband chooses to remain ignorant of some harsh realities of our world, particularly politically charged issues, or my step dad thinking that it's too much trouble to recycle when you have people over because there's just too many cans and bottles to deal with, or always having to follow up with people who can't seem to do their jobs effectively. While these things are very frustrating and annoying, I ultimately do not believe such imperfections will make or break us as a race. While these things will all have an impact in some way or form as the ripple effects from a single persons actions can be vast, I am able to forgive these smaller imperfections in others and myself. Well, sometimes myself, but definitely others.

It's the bigger things. Hate is something I find unforgiving, which seems a bit of an oxymoron to me since not being able to forgive someone can often lead to feelings of anger, resentment and ultimately, hate towards that person, including oneself. I analyze this a lot simply for that reason. Though even just cruel or harsh words in the heat of anger...or drunkenness... or anger due to the other's drunkenness is something I dwell on, fester in really, and I can't seem to let go of these situations; to forgive.

My frustration with humanity for too often lacking compassion for others gnaws at me and I find myself unforgiving for our lack of action when it's needed most. Those who look at the homeless with disgust, who look at the mentally ill with annoyance or who judge the unemployed as a collective group of lazy people are examples that come to mind. It's the people who are intolerant of those who are different or whose views are opposing to ones own that I find unforgiving. It's being unaccepting of others whether it's because of the color of the person's skin, their religion or that they do not believe in religion. It's judging who a person loves because they are the same sex or woman's painful decision not to see a pregnancy to term. It's judging those who judge these people because their religion taught them such things are sins.

It's speaking negative of a mom who chooses to extend breast feeding or the mom that exclusively bottle feeds. It's the snide comments about how someone is dressed or considering a person who eats meat as somehow not being a decent human being for that choice. It's turning your nose up to the parents who choose to home school their children or the parents who utilize cry it out as a means to sleep train their baby. Our differences are never ending and the fact that so many people are unwilling to even try to look past these differences or to stop and think for just a few minutes as to the myriad of reasons why others make the decisions they do, believe what they believe or say the things they say often sits and stews in my brain until I become so pessimistic towards my fellow (wo)man that I start to question the point of working to be any different then this myself. A person's unwillingness to even attempt to look through the lens of those who have a varying worldview is simply unforgivable to me.

And then I remember this,
Mother Teresa has been a long time hero of mine. 

I admit I have done these unforgivable things myself. Maybe not often and by no means all of them, but I certainly have judged, I have thought others beliefs were borderline crazy and I have reacted out of anger without stopping to think first. I've thought other moms choices aren't the best, including my own, and I've been unforgiving of myself because of it. I don't always take a step back and try to understand the other side, especially at times when I know I'm right. I have this book titled 'You Don't Have to Be Wrong for Me to Be Right'. I've mentioned this book before but I forget which post it is. I never finished the book and only know the premise of it really, which isn't related to this post exactly, but regardless, I find the title so profound. I feel if we could all live by those words we would all find acceptance for one another, or at the very least, tolerance. First and foremost though, I need to remember to accept myself, with who I am right now and where I'm at on this journey. Only then can I truly accept and be gracious to others.

The problem is, I can't seem to forgive myself for the awful things I think and even say when my husband drinks. I asked my previous Rabbi about this last year around this time and he didn't really have an answer. He agreed that I have a right to be angry and didn't say or even insinuate that I shouldn't say mean things. But I don't think it's okay. It's not me. It's not who I am at my core, I'm not a hateful person but such hate filled, angry and mean things pour out of my mouth when my husband drinks and I can't seem to turn the faucet off once I start. My thoughts in those moments can be even more vile. Some of the things I say and think are horrible to think about anyone let alone the man I'm married to; the father of my children. Regardless of his actions or things he says, I do not have to forget who I am. I can be better.

I try to tell myself that I can't let his actions effect me or lead me down a path of choices that make me hate myself. Only then, I think if I don't get angry then it lets him off the hook so to speak. He'll think what he's doing is okay and it will get even worse. I've asked him about this catch 22 I find myself in and he tells me to get angry or he will in fact think it doesn't bother me anymore. I know him pretty well I guess. But all I can think is, how is this fair to me when I don't want to be angry anymore? I work every day to calm my anger. Part of why I wanted to do my yoga teacher training is an effort to return to the person I am so I can be a better mom; a better person. It's to release this anger that eats away at me, that will steal my happiness and my life if I let it. But he wants me to get angry at him.

I know I am only human. I know I am not perfect. I know both of these things for a fact. I actually removed thew word "perfect" from my descriptions of things or people long ago when I was in recovery for an eating disorder as a teenager. I don't expect perfection from myself, or anyone else for that matter, yet I have the hardest time applying this knowledge to these unforgiving moments that we all have. I weigh on this so often, not just during these days set aside for us Jews to reflect on such imperfections and sins and repentance. I just can't seem to find an end to this circle of anger, thinking/saying horrible things, being unforgiving of both myself and him for it and contemplating how I can do better..... It is quite exhausting all this anger and not being able to forgive and introspection stuff.  I feel a bit like I'm on a perpetual treadmill.

Obviously some things are unforgivable and in my mind, they deserve to be. I can't fathom how people can torture or brutally kill others, most especially children. I've felt hate in my heart for leaders of nations and their followers who call for the annihilation of Israel and all Jews. I've felt some people are the definition of evil, Hitler for example. Yet millions loved and followed him and agreed with him! How is that forgivable? Yet, many Holocaust survivors have said they forgive their captors, the very people who starved and tortured them and murdered their loved ones. If someone harmed one of my children, I honestly don't think I could forgive them. The problem with this way of thinking is that the act of forgiveness sets you free. Free from the anger. Anger that can be all consuming. Free from the anger that can grow into hate. Hate being something that is simply unacceptable and detrimental to our survival as individuals or collectively.

I am far from perfect. No one is. I guess that's why I can't figure out this forgiveness thing. But I know it's out there. Others can do it under much worse circumstances, so I must continue to strive for it. All I can do is keep trying. Keep remembering I'm not perfect. No one around me is perfect. I need to keep remembering my husband isn't perfect and especially remembering that my kids, who often drive me a bit bat shit crazy, are not perfect! The more I remember that we are all not perfect the more I can remember not to respond in a way that would assume we all are. In the end, I don't have the solution. I haven't found forgiveness. All I really can do is keep going to bed each night with the intent to do better tomorrow. Isn't that all any of us can do with our imperfect selves?

Saw this yesterday as I was working on this post.
How perfect!

To any members of the tribe reading this one....
Gmar Chatimah Tova  (May your final sealing in the Book of Life be good)

To my PSU family, Thank You! But I need to take a step back....

Note: If you aren't a Penn Stater... you might want to move on to my next post. This was simply the easier way for me to address many at once. Thanks to my followers in advance for understanding.

With this whole Penn State debacle being incredibly multifaceted I often can't decide which aspect to write about first. I could focus on politics, because to me, that's at the core of this whole thing. I could focus on individuals and their not so credible backgrounds, take your pick, Tripony, Freeh, Corbett... I could focus on the media who continues to prove time and time again how they have lost all credibility as impartial journalists and are merely like any other power hungry and money driven corporation. I could focus on the victims, which is one of the few issues I have always been passionate about. I did my undergrad scholarly paper on the effects of child physical abuse. I believe I got a 98% on this final assignment I completed at Penn State, doing the bulk of my research in the Paterno wing of Pattee Library.

I feel like if I don't write about the victims I'll be viewed as uncaring. If I write about how it has had a dramatic impact on me personally and the loss I personally feel on so many levels, I'm somehow the bad guy who misses the whole point of the horrors the victims endured. Despite having worked with victims of abuse for many years and seeing some of the most horrific cases anyone can possibly imagine, people will still accuse me of being selfish or not getting it. I'm pretty sure most of these people have never actually seen the physical and emotional impact of severe abuse on a child and I'm quite sure, they don't get it, nor would they want to.

For me, as I anticipate my trip to Penn State in just 5 days, the loss I feel is what is hitting me the most. Lately anyway, my emotions about all of this are often all over the place. It is this loss and the fact that I have accepted I must take a step back from all of this to regroup and focus on my family.

As I accepted this fact of needing to step back I thought a lot about all I have lost over these nearly 10 months and mostly I feel I have lost my image of Happy Valley. Happy Valley was a place that had this untouchable aura surrounding it. I used to enter this parallel universe upon turning right at the Snappy's onto 322 and the butterfly's would start to flutter with anticipation. It was like being sucked into this bubble of companionship, family and safety. Safety. To me, and I think most Penn Staters, I had this idea that nothing bad could happen in Happy Valley. Sometimes I wonder if that's precisely how all of this was able to happen. The Penn Staters on the board must have had this same idea and that's how they were so inept in their ability to deal with it. After they realized the Happy Valley we all thought we knew ceased to exist decades ago, they should have stepped up though, so don't look at that as an "apologist" sort of statement. Even Joe Pa didn't read the grand jury report until he was forced to because, really, how bad could it be? Nothing truly bad could happen in Happy Valley. And certainly not by one of our own. It was like we were off limits to evil, at least in my mind.

Now, we knew this wasn't exactly true, but it was the imagine I had. It was as if Happy Valley was the closest place I could find that was well, perfect, the world as it should be. From time to time you'd hear of bad things happening but in the grand scheme of things, Happy Valley was as close to heaven as mortals could get. It was my safe place. It was filled with an intoxicating energy I used to crave like a drug. I still do, but then I remember, it doesn't exist, not in the same way.

To have this image stripped away I think has been the most difficult thing for me to accept. It's like a world I knew never existed. It's like all of it was a mirage, a figment of my imagination. I went back the week after Joe Pa passed just to make sure Happy Valley was still there. I needed to see it for myself. I needed to walk down the streets, see, the lion shrine, the stadium standing there in all it's grandeur, the student book store and family clothesline, Baby's, Irvings, the CVS on the corner of Beaver and Pugh I used to live above.... I needed to see it all existed. Funny thing is, I keep forgetting that I no longer turn at Snappy's since the roads were redone. Instead, I don't get the chance for those butterfly's to start and the energy to suck me in because all of a sudden there I am, on Atherton, and I think, wow, it's all so different.

Now, that thought is an epic understatement. Different just doesn't quite describe it. Yet, in so many ways it's all still the same too.

I realized this as I did what seems like my constant scans of the many PSU facebook pages created in the wake of this mess. I have found that these pages I go to daily have become that place I lost. My Happy Valley. WE have become that sense of companionship and family and safety I once viewed as an actual place. I realized that Happy Valley is in me, it's in each of us, because WE created it. For over 150 years, those who came before us and those who have come after us ARE this Eden of my mind. This gave me comfort in the sadness of all it seems I have lost. You all have given me comfort. You all have made me feel less crazy for feeling like I've been grieving over this loss of a place. As a Jew, it's like you all are my diaspora :)

BUT, the constant scanning of these pages as to not miss anything pertinent, the letter writing, the endless reading of article after article that helps to fill in all the missing pieces of this tragedy that the media refuses to report, commenting on our pages threads and working to set the record straight in the hate filled comment sections everywhere else, including on my own facebook page, losing sleep over what feels like a hopeless fight most days, finding myself more and more angry over this loss, other's ignorance and just how damn unfair this ENTIRE thing is, from the victim's loss of innocence to the never ceasing things the BoT can find to put blue ribbons on, I simply can't take it anymore.

I am starting a new journey in my life, one I've waited many years to find an opportunity to take. I began my yoga teacher training program a few days ago. I've been trying to use my yoga as a means to help clear this incessant chatter over what to write to the BoT, the President, Bob Costas and everyone else under the sun. I've used my yoga to help me release some of this anger that seems to compound daily with each lie or distortion of truth I read. I've found I am often unsuccessful and have not been able to truly commit to this next step in my life because I simply can't let it all go. It is beyond all consuming. It feels like a full time job, as I know it does for most of you too. The thing is, I have a full time job which I committed myself to when I quit "working" just over two years ago. I have a 3 year old and an 18 month old that are craving more of my attention, attention I have not been giving them so I can stay on top of all this other stuff. This has compounded my feelings of anger and loss with that of guilt.

I also live each moment with the uncertainty of how alcoholism will impact my family that day. Lately, it's been impacting us a lot and as such, my kids need even more of me. I once again am faced with many difficult decisions that will impact not only the rest of my life but the lives of my children as well. I am open about this here because it's part of my blog anyway, so it's not "news". As such, the only solution I can come up with is to take a step back. I haven't figured out how to force myself to let go a bit as I'm not one to back away from a fight I'm passionate about. I'm also not one to back away when I know I'm right and want to prove that to all those who question it. That's my own selfish motive though. Either way, I need to take a step back, for my own sanity and for my kids.

Maybe it means, only reading posts on one page each day. Maybe it means not commenting so I don't feel compelled to check back so often. Maybe it means not taking part in the abundant writing campaigns. Maybe it means choosing a certain time of day to check in and sticking to that. I just don't know BUT I know seeing the same names each day, commenting on the same things and you all thinking the same things I do has been so comforting I felt I needed to explain why I wouldn't be around as much. I also thought some of you might have ideas for how I can still fight while being able to focus on my family and myself a lot more than I have been for months now.

It always brings me back to  "If I'm not for myself, who will be for me? If I'm not for others, what am I? And if not now, when?" My very first blog post and life motto.

I must be for myself right now or I will not be any good for my family, including my PSU family. I figure, if not now, when? I'm finally doing something for me, my yoga training, so I need to give it all of me or it's pointless.

I fear losing this connection with all of you though will send me back to feeling like I have lost all I thought was true about Happy Valley. I fear I will feel alone in all this again. I'm hoping the energy from the stadium on September 1st will stay with me these next few months to keep me strong and to remind me what we are fighting for. I'm hoping whatever way I decide to step back will sustain me. I'm hoping many of you have some ideas for stepping back while not feeling like I'm too overwhelmed to take care of myself and my family the way I want and need to. I'm hoping those of you have have "friended" me will help keep me in the loop so I can remain educated on the truth and be able to combat the ignorance as it presents itself to me.

I'm REALLY hoping that my yoga practice and teacher training will help me refocus to a point I am able to do ALL of this... all I have been doing to fight for the truth AND allowing me enough time for my training and my family and still getting some sleep!

I love Penn State, I love my Penn State family and I consider each of you family, especially those I've been "talking to" to months now. I dream each day I will wake up to the breaking news of the truth and I know with so many fighting day in and day out one day we will. So.... Fight On Family! I'll be back soon.

We Are....