Epiphany!

What an epiphany I had today!  I was reading some comments to a recent newspaper article regarding a newly proposed drug task force in our small, rural county.  Among the comments was a complaint, from someone that seemed to be worried about the impact of drugs in our area, that this will cost tax payers more money.

I have to tell you, the comment ticked me off.  I mean, if you're really concerned about drugs,would you be complaining about the possibility that your taxes could rise slightly in order to fight the epidemic?  Wouldn't you be willing to contribute $5, $25, even $50 extra a year to help?  The more I thought about it, the more irritated I got.  Who are you to complain about a tax increase to help this addiction epidemic?

Let's take a step back.  When my husband entered his most recent rehab just a year ago this month, we had nothing financially to help offset the cost.  We could no longer afford regular life, nevermind what this was going to cost.  In fact, we were once asked by one of his counselors if we would be willing to legally separate in order to assist financially, among other things.  (That's another rant altogether!)  He was forced to apply for Medicaid, which covered his medical needs for doctor visits, medication, etc., but because of the fact that we "own" our home and had retirement accounts, he was unable to use that insurance to cover the cost of his stay at the facility.  The only option we were left with was for him to cash in the majority of his state retirement.

On top of all of the other anger I had over the situation, including the financial hit I was taking here at home, this really made my blood boil!  I mean, come on!  He spent 17+ years contributing to that account.  It wasn't a huge amount by today's standards but, in my mind, that money was going to ensure that we could enjoy life a bit when we retired.  And if he can have the luxury of cashing it in to pay for 9 months of rehab away from his wife and children, why couldn't I have use it instead to pay the 9 months of bills I was facing alone?  Yeah, I was pretty bitter.  In the end, the retirement was cashed in for the amount he needed.  I had to let it go.  He paid the tax and penalty for it right off the top so we wouldn't take that hit later, but then tax season rolls around this year.  There was a kick in the stomach.  Over $3,500 deducted on our return because of that "extra income" we received.  Income?  You're kidding, right?  It just made the anger that I thought I had let go resurfaced all over again.

Then I read that comment today, and I quote:  "We are going to create a new job ... to do nothing but bleed more money from the taxpayers."

All of a sudden it hit me.  SMACK!  I was just like that county resident.  I was more concerned about our money than our family!  Think about it, Erika!  That money that I thought would provide security and entertainment in our retirement would have meant absolutely nothing if he never even made it that far.  And let me tell you this: he never would have had any hope of making it to retirement had he not spent that money on his recovery.

Maybe neither one of us will actually get to retire ... God never guaranteed us specific time here on this earth ... but if we do make it that far, I'm thinking that retirement fund, and our tax dollars, will have been invested very wisely and, God willing, we will have much more important things to enjoy.

The Speech ~ Revisited

One week from today, I will be giving my second speech ... second as an adult, and second in this new journey of addiction recovery for our family.  The next one will contain portions of this one, because I believe the history is important, but, God willing, will have new insight to our journey as well.

I thought today I would publish the written version of that first speech ... for those that wish to "hear" for the first time, to refresh if you heard it locally, or to pass on to someone that may benefit from reading it.  Those that prefer can watch the video at: https://youtu.be/zp-bOELBgmk.

If you're local and would like to attend the next event, it is scheduled to be held on Wednesday, March 22nd in the auditorium at Lowville Academy at 7 pm.  Other speakers include presenter Mitch Robinson, Lewis County District Attorney Leanne Moser, and a member of the Lowville Police Department.  We all thank you for your support.

*************

Many of you already know me but for those that don’t, my name is Erika Smith.  I’m a life-long resident of Lewis County, most of that in Croghan, and a 1991 graduate of Beaver River.  I have been married to Bruce for over 25 years and we have 3 precious children:  our girls, Reganne, 19, Peyton, 14, and our son, Cameron, in the middle at 16.  I’ve had several secretarial jobs, but for the past 9 years I have worked for Dr. Lyndaker and Dr. Palmer at Lowville Medical Associates.

When I found out about this evening’s event, I timidly offered some assistance to Julie through a Facebook chat.  My exact words were:  “I’m a little frightened to offer this, but let me know what I might be able to do to help.”  Not good.  After a few polite sentences back and forth she wrote “Would you speak?”  Yup.  Time to step away from the computer, Erika.  I did not.  Even worse.  Eventually, after a sad attempt at some humor, I replied, “That just escalated from ‘a little frightened’ to drop-dead terrifying!”

Do you all know, Julie?  Well, here I stand.  (Though, bless her heart, she did get Mitch to let me sit in the audience instead of up on stage.)  I am not a public speaker.  I’m not even a private speaker.  I find conversations very difficult and usually think of “the right” thing to say long after a conversation has ended.  So if I walk away from this speaking something coherent, you will have witnessed a miracle straight from God. 

Please know that I am not an expert in anything related to drug or alcohol abuse.  But I am the wife of an alcoholic and the mother of three children that I pray will not be and what I can speak of is my experience. 

Maya Angelou said, “There’s no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”  So I am here to tell our story hoping that one person can be helped by it in some small way.  Because that is the only reason I can think of for us to have had to endure the hell we have… so that we can help others through the same.

The Cliff Notes version of our story:  Alcohol addiction nearly destroyed our “perfect” family.  It didn’t happen overnight and we never saw it coming, but somehow we ended up right in the middle of it.

The small group that I am involved with through our church recently did a study last fall titled “Guardrails” by Andy Stanley.  His challenge is for us to stop flirting with disaster and establish some personal guardrails.  We are all familiar with the guardrails along the road.  They are placed there to direct and protect us as we travel in our vehicles.  He equates those physical guardrails to those that we all have in our personal lives, whether they were put there intentionally or not. 

Personally or morally, we have lines that we “draw” and intend not to cross.  This is a personal guardrail.  We create the line to protect ourselves against harm.  On occasion we bump into these guardrails but recognize that fact and redirect our path to a safer area.  Other times, we ignore the guardrail and careen through and down a dangerous cliff.  Sometimes we survive.  Sometimes we do not.

My out-of state cousin remembers asking me when I was in junior high what the big problems were at Beaver River.  Apparently, I told her it was alcohol.  I don’t recall the conversation at all.  Ironic how that all came back around.  I know there were lessons in high school health class about substance abuse.  I paid attention.  I listened.  But it didn’t think it pertained to me.  I was safe.  And if I was safe, my kids must be safe, right? 

Bruce and I come from great Christian families.  Neither of us had any childhood traumas.  Both sets of parents and all four sets of grandparents never divorced and nine of those twelve people were alive to hold all three of our children … six of them still are.  Bruce’s parents never drink and mine do only on special occasions.  Neither one of us was offered drugs of any kind in high school, not even a cigarette, and to this day, I have not even laid eyes on any illegal drugs.  (Yes, I’ve lived a very sheltered life in that way and I’m totally OK with that.)  I was allowed sips of wine at the family table while growing up, but had more fun running my fingers along the edge of the wine glass to make music.  My first and last “real” underage drinking was at friend’s party when I was 15.  I remember her mother sitting in the kitchen where the alcohol was and though I don’t recall who handed it to me, I know her  mom was the one that purchased it for us.  I drank half of that wine cooler and still feel guilty!  (If you’re here, Mom … I’m sorry.  You’ve probably not heard that before.)  I’ve never been drunk.  As an adult, I don’t know that I’ve ever had more than 2 glasses of wine or a mixed drink at any given event.  We were never party go-ers.  When we did choose to go to one of my class’s graduation parties up in Belfort (surprise, surprise!), we stayed for only about an hour because neither one of us was comfortable there.  We were a safe couple.  Nothing at all to worry about!  Our kids will be just fine!

After a dozen or so years of marriage, though, I came to the frightening realization that my husband was an alcoholic.  I can’t recall one time in the three years that we dated where I witnessed him drink and I can only recall two times in the next seven years or so that I saw him drunk.  But sometime after that things changed.  Life changed.  I didn’t notice at first – I was too busy.  When I did notice, I chose to ignore it for a long time.  It will get better.  Only it didn’t.  And then, when I couldn’t ignore it any longer, things were completely out of control. 

We went from that “perfect family” to a non-existent one.  Bruce stopped being the husband and parent that we needed him to be and I doubled-up on responsibilities and overdosed on stress and worry.  We did very limited things together as a family.  The few vacations that we attempted did not create the special memories that one would expect.  Family functions usually pushed me over the edge.  It was a rare occasion to go out or have friends over.  Leaving the kids home without me became impossible.  Bruce stopped going to church and I made the decision to change churches.

At home, we distanced ourselves from each other.  We walked on eggshells and stopped communicating.  We stopped having fun.  The kids had fewer and fewer friends over.  Financially we were a mess.  At the worst of it, we were even subjected to a CPS investigation.  Trust me, this is not something you want to go through.  I’ve never felt such humiliation and fear as I did during that period of time.

At home, it was like we lived with two Bruce’s … the sober one and the drunk one.  Most days, you never knew who you were going to get and coming home at the end of the school day for the kids and the work day for me was not usually something to look forward to.  It eventually got bad enough that, I admit sadly, I was often relieved when his car was not in the driveway when I got there.

We … and I say we, because I was as much to blame as Bruce … we put on those masks of happiness, wore them well, and no one was the wiser for a long time.  Not our friends, not our co-workers, not our family, or our parents.  We even hid much of it from the kids … at least, it seemed that way at the time.  When people did find out, most had a very hard time believing and accepting the truth.  Much of that was due to the fact that Bruce almost always drank in isolation.  He rarely drank in public except when he was DJing.  Stephen King wrote:  “We’re only as sick as our secrets.”  Well, we were really, really sick.

Bruce eventually lost his teaching job and, in a way, we all lost “home”.  I had this view of Beaver River as our home away from home since we were in Kindergarten.  We each spent 13 years here.  Shortly after college and marriage, he began teaching here and I would spend hours helping in his classrooms.  Eventually the kids came along and you all know how much time can be spent here in that line of work!  In various ways, we’ve walked in and out of this building on a daily basis for the past 40 years.  Beaver River was our community.  When his alcoholism finally became public, I was amazed at the response from that community in particular.  There were some faculty and staff that wrapped us in their arms and loved us in various practical ways.  I am so very thankful for them.  They were a vital part of our survival.  But there were others that didn’t.  There were some that I thought were close to us that have come to barely speak to us, even today.  I haven’t decided if it was a “better than you” mentality or if it was just fear, but I’m finding myself agreeing with this quote I recently read:  “If you’re struggling and your people are just sitting there watching you struggle … they’re not your people.”  We kept a great number of our people though this fight with alcoholism, some of you are here tonight, but we had to learn to get new people, too.

At some point in the fight, I realized that I may not be able to save Bruce, but I may be able to save myself and my children.  I had to be as honest as I could:  first with myself, then with them, and then with those around us.  I had a very difficult time telling them what was going on because I wanted to keep them as innocent as I could, but I had to learn that I could tell them the scary facts without scarring them for life.  They know that they are the children of an alcoholic, an addict.  They know that they are at risk of becoming the same if they make the wrong choices when trying to cope with the tiny to overwhelming stressors in their lives.  They know this because I stopped being afraid and I began being a better parent.

Not one of you is immune from addiction.  I wish that wasn’t true.  But it is.  It may not be in your immediate family right now, but I am certain that you know other family members or friends that are affected.  Most of you know us.  That’s a start.  You have to know that this can happen to your kids or your spouse or your best friend or even yourself.  But it doesn’t have to.

If you’re here, you’ve already taken a step toward helping deal with this epidemic.  I’ve been told that information is power.  It’s just up to you what you do with it.  But admitting there is an issue and putting your fears aside to deal with it certainly is a great beginning.  There are several other things that can help as well.

As parents, our job is to establish some guardrails, or guidelines, for our children until they are able to erect their own.  When they are toddlers, most of us teach our children not to throw food on the floor or not to bite their siblings or not to say bad words or not to run out into the street after a ball.  As they get older we may teach them to help others or respect their teachers or to be diligent in their school work.  It’s in our job description, right? 

We are supposed to be a parent.  We are supposed to be our children’s’ instructor, their moral compass, their guide, their nurse, their judge and jury at times, their confidant at others.  We are supposed to be their rock.

We are not, however, supposed to be their friend.  We get stuck there sometimes.  We just want them to like us.  We want them to be happy.  We want them to have more than what we had.  We bend, we bow, we buy, we negotiate, but hopefully, before it’s too late, we figure out that these things are not what they really need.

Start TALKING if you haven’t.  Talk about work and school and friends and finances and the dog and that project that needs finishing and worries and dreams and joys and fears.   LISTEN to what your spouse or children are telling you.  Converse over dinner chores and in the car.  Turn the distractions off.  Be still and really hear what they are saying.  Don’t think about your response.  Just HEAR them.  And please stay CALM.  They may say something you do not want to hear and certainly don’t want to think about or admit to.  Don’t get upset. Don’t yell.  Don’t judge.  Just LOVE them.  Whatever is going on … the good, the bad, the ugly … for better or for worse ... don’t stop listening or loving.

One of the hard parts about loving is rules and boundaries.  MAKE them.  KEEP them.  Always.  This is much more difficult to do as a spouse than a parent.  You married your spouse intending to be partners.  This is a fine line I am still learning to navigate.  But as a parent, please make these rules and boundaries … these guardrails, if you will.

If you’re suspicious of drugs or alcohol or pornography, go through their room.  You pay the mortgage or rent, right?  Probably bought the furniture?  And maybe even most of the stuff you’re walking on all over the floor?  Stop wondering and GO LOOK!  Worst case scenario – you stumble across a stash.  So now that you know, deal with it.  Don’t ignore it!  Best case scenario – you don’t find anything other than moldy dishes and dirty underwear and, though your chore list just got longer, your fears are relieved.

If you suspect that they are in trouble online or with their phone, install some safety software and create passwords.  Write down their personal passwords and update them frequently.  Yes, I’ve done this.  My kids throw a fit, but I pay the bill.  And even if I didn’t, isn’t it worth it to save my child or someone else’s?  I’m not really concerned about violating their privacy.  I’m not in law enforcement, but I’m willing to bet that I won’t be arrested for checking my child’s e-mail or texts or internet history if I’m truly trying to protect them.  And if I am, so be it.

I am not suggesting you go overboard.  Please don’t ask your child to hand over their phone every time they walk through the door or hover over their shoulder when they are gaming online.  But set the boundaries and make them clear so they know what to expect.  You want them to be able to trust you and not to feel like you don’t trust them every waking moment.  Explain to them that you are not doing these things to hurt them or just spy for your own entertainment.  Remember when they were babies and you used to tiptoe over to the crib to be sure they were still breathing?  Checking their room or their book bag or their phone is just the way you have to check on them now … just as you have since the day they were born … in order to do everything in your parental power to keep them safe.

I do not want an officer to escort me into the morgue one day to ID my child and then clean out his or her bedroom a month later only to find all the evidence I would have needed to save them.

This may shock you, but in our home, there are no TVs or computers in any of the bedrooms.  And my children (and husband) are still alive!  Shocker!  We have several computers and televisions in the common areas of the house and laptops that can travel.  This makes it much easier for me as a parent to monitor and much more difficult for any of us to surf into dangerous areas.  Remember the telephones with the cords?  I wonder how many cords my parents had to replace because I stretched them so much in order to get out of ear shot for my 10 minute or less phone calls.  Not such a bad idea, now that you have kids to worry about, right?  Same concept.  It’s certainly not foolproof, but it’s just another guardrail.

I also have a rule that all electronics are turned off at 10 pm.  This doesn’t always include the TV, especially on weekends, but there is no reason for any of us to be up all night gaming or computing or texting or surfing and not getting the rest we should be.  (This is definitely a little harder to negotiate if you’ve married a night owl … like me … just one of those things I need to agree to disagree on.)  As for the kids?  They are old enough to stay up pretty much as long as they want … if they are reading a book or doing homework or sometimes even for a movie binge, but they will most definitely be getting up for school or church on time.

Ooo.  She said church.  If you go, and personally, I think you should, TAKE YOUR KIDS!  If they were out late with a friend the night before remind them that’s what Sunday afternoon naps are for.  Don’t let them make excuses.  Do the hard thing.  Be the parent!  Make them go!

However … insert public service announcement here:  PLEASE let them stay home if they truly are sick.  You know when that is.  This germaphobe, the school nurses, and the pediatricians thank you!

Another disclaimer:  Even if you are the perfect parent, raising the perfect child, things happen.  At some point, they may tear down your guardrails and put up their own … or not have any at all.  They may completely go against every good thing you’ve ever taught them.  They may eventually get into trouble … little trouble … big trouble.  God help us, it happens.  Don’t feel that you have to rescue them.  If they get detention in school, I’m guessing it was for breaking a school rule.  This may not be YOUR rule, but a rule none-the-less.  Just like that traffic ticket you’ve received?  Yeah, that.  We all have rules and laws to live by.  And we all need to face the consequences.  Let your kids face theirs.  There is a bigger world out there than these four walls. One detention for wearing a short skirt that she shouldn’t have been wearing in the first place (you do get the school code of conduct every September), is not going to hurt her, just her pride … and maybe yours.  You’ll both get through it.  And be better for it in the end.

If it’s your spouse that careens over those guardrails, things can get really, really, really hard.  First and foremost, you have to protect yourself and your children.  You’ll likely need counseling, together or separately.  Do it.  You may need to live separately for a time.  If so, do that, too.  Separation doesn’t always have to lead to divorce.  But it can give you each the space you need to figure out how to move forward from the ugly space you are in, hopefully together.  You will need to be very, very patient.  Even when you don’t want to be.  You will need “go learn things”, as one of my favorite TV characters likes to say.  You will need to change yourself while remembering that you cannot change your spouse.  And you will need to repeat those things over and over and over again.  But if you’re willing to put in the hard work, things will get better.  Show your kids that bad things can be made good again.  Show them that even though giving up may be the easy thing to do, it may not always be the right thing to do.  Things may not work out the way you plan on or hope for, but you will be OK knowing that you did the best you could in trying to do the best you could.

Personally, I also needed to learn a better art of loving and forgiveness.  It hurts me to say this, but did not like Bruce much of the time that he was drinking.  I did, however, make the choice every day to love him and forgive him.  Repeatedly.  It was so much easier to be sad or angry … and I was so very sad and angry - sometimes I still am.  But it is so very difficult to love and forgive.  It takes a lot of work and a whole lot more patience.  But not doing so and holding onto those negative feelings just hurt me more than it hurt him.  So I made a conscious decision to love him anyway … even when he drank and turned into someone that rubbed my emotions raw.  I loved and I forgave … over and over and over again.  Forgiveness doesn’t excuse the action, but it does stop the action from destroying your heart.

Today, after several years that included six rehabs and a gazillion meetings with counselors, AA groups, and a judge, I’m able to say that Bruce has been sober for 12 months and 12 days.  Last week, he invited me to his AA meeting where he was presented with his one year coin.  It has been such a long road from there to here and I never thought that we’d see the end of.  In reality, though, I know we haven’t.  We will live with alcoholism forever.  I can only pray that the most painful part of the journey is over and we can now begin to rebuild and restore and move forward.  I’m proud of him for finally deciding to take this road of recovery.  Bruce, I’m sorry that I haven’t told you that enough.  But I am so proud of you and grateful for each day of your recovery.

The last thing I would like to share is that no matter how you feel, you are not alone.  Alone is all I felt for so many years.  Most of it was of my own making.  I rarely opened up or reached out and I will tell you that that is just a perfect recipe for failure.  Let me read something I saw in a blog recently:  “Sadly, we tend to share the highlights of our lives far more quickly than the low points or if we share our difficulties, we hide critical aspects of our story.   [My] Research indicates that we are frightened of sharing the challenges we are facing, tending to withdraw and isolate. This isolation, of course, intensifies our problems.  I’ve found that we have opposing feelings—the fear of being exposed and vulnerable, people finding out about all our warts—and the intense desire to expose ourselves and allow others to see us for who we are and show us kindness and acceptance. This inner battle adds to our tension and anxiety.” 

I personally believe that isolation is one of the biggest reasons our family ended up in this disease called alcoholism.  Bruce isolated.  I isolated.  And we unknowingly taught the kids to isolate.  That being said, my advice to you is this:  find a good friend, a pastor, a counselor, a small group, an AA or NA meeting … anyone that will listen without judging … anyone that will offer you hope and encouragement …  anyone that will just plain hold you together when you feel like you’re falling apart.

You are stronger than you think.  You can get through this.  Be brave.  And tell your story:  There is nothing small about it when you tell the broken and the beautiful truth about your life.  Don’t be ashamed … if for no other reason than to save yourself and to give others the hope they so desperately need.

Make a Connection

There have been two deaths in our very small town in the last week allegedly caused by drug overdose.  There was another one today a few miles away.  And a friend is posting on Facebook as I type about a possible meth lab bust in the next town over.

We are small town America, but we are not immune.  The epidemic is here.  People are saddened and angry and afraid.  And as much as we want to fix it, no one knows how.  Some random comments I’m reading … and I paraphrase:

• Do nothing … nothing we’ve tried works.
• Arrest or even kill the dealer.
• Cut off the addict and throw him or her into rehab.
• Inundate our children and the general public with more information.
• Pray for the lost souls.

I feel like we are all lost!  No one can give a clear answer to why or how or what to do!  We’re over-critical and under-compassionate and way too quick to judge.

I watched a video today with a completely different message on addiction and a possible “solution”.  And, though I’m very new to this research thing, it’s by far the best I’ve heard.

While I totally agree that one person can drink or drug with little to no lasting effects and the next person cannot because of their genes or neurological or chemical tendencies, I also believe that the major reason a person continues to use or deal goes way beyond that.  But why?

My personal opinion is that people continue to use and abuse alcohol and other drugs because they don’t want to feel whatever pain they are feeling – physical or emotional. They are self-medicating with bad choices making life even worse.  Likely they are not able to bear being present in their own life.  They are bonding with what gives them some temporary relief. 

Understanding why dealers deal is more difficult to understand, but it likely boils down to the same heart issues.  Dealers are not bad people.  Yes, they are doing a bad thing.  But, on various levels, don’t we all?  I believe we are all born sinners.  I also believe we are all born with innate goodness in us.  We just have to find it and to find it, we have to love.  Yes, love.  Wow.  It is hard to find love for a dealer.  It is also hard to love an addict – trust me on this on this one.  Heck, it’s hard to love anyone, if you think about it.  Love is not an easy verb!

But think about this: “The solution to the problem of addiction on a societal level is both simple and fairly easy to implement. If a person is born into a life that is lacking in love and support on a family level, or if due to some other trauma they have become isolated and suffer from addiction, there must be a cultural response to make sure that person knows that they are valued by their society (even if they don’t feel valued by their family).”     http://upliftconnect.com/opposite-addiction-connection

Simplified, my take on that is this:  If you want to be a part of the solution, stop pointing fingers at what everyone else should be doing and GO … BE … DO it yourself!  Show some love!

Be the spouse, the parent, the child, the friend, the neighbor, the co-worker, the pastor, the acquaintance that LOVES someone that needs loving.  Be prepared - it will cost you!  Love is an investment of YOU … your time, your energy, your empathy, your compassion.  If you have anyone in your life that needs a little extra love … and who doesn’t? … give it away!  Take them dinner, better yet, have them into your home for dinner.  Bring them groceries.  Take them shopping.  Join them for a walk or a workout.  Offer to drive them to an AA or NA meeting and attend with them.  Invite them to a local sporting event or church.  Leave some cookies on their doorstep.  Mail them (real USPS snail mail) an encouraging note.  Browse together at the library or visit a museum.  Enjoy a community activity or a hobby together.  Form a bond.  Help them rediscover a purpose.  LOVE them.  Don’t isolate them.

In the video I was watching earlier, Everything You Think You Know About Addiction is Wrong – a TED Talk, Johann Hari says this:  "The opposite of addiction is not sobriety.  The opposite of addiction is connection.”  Go on.  Go make a connection.