I Have a Problem with Cheese

 

“I Have a Problem with Cheese”

 

“There are those people who can eat one piece of chocolate, one piece of cake, drink one glass of wine. There are even people who smoke one or two cigarettes a week. And then there are people for whom one of anything is not even an option.”
― Abigail Thomas, Thinking About Memoir

 

 

 

People who are not alcoholics and addicts will often assume that we just have to stop drinking and using and we will then be somehow “cured”.  I believe they believe that once we take away the substance that all will be well in our worlds again and life will return to “normal”.  This is so far from the truth it is laughable.  Our problem is not the substance (well technically it is – we obviously can’t drink or use) our problem is our thinking.

I have, since I was a small child, always done things “big”.  I laugh big, I cry big, I love big, I study big, I get depressed big, I read big (though not as much as I used to and I miss it) I binge-watch TV, I take on more things at once than I can possibly accomplish and it gets me into trouble every single time… and I have a problem with cheese.

I love cheese.  A lot.  I buy excessive amounts of cheese every week in all forms because I love cheese in all forms.  I have shredded cheese, sliced cheese, chunk cheese, wedge cheese, soft cheese…  Tony was over the other weekend and was making me dinner (have I mentioned that he used to be an executive chef?  Sigh…) and he opened the cheese drawer in my fridge.  After recovering from the strain of the weight of the drawer he turned and gave me a quizzical look as if to say, “What in the dairy section is going on here?”  I immediately started trying to explain myself, which wasn’t easy given the fact that the kids were away for two weeks so it was only me at the house and only me there to eat all the varieties of cheese in my fridge.  It’s not easy to explain away a Red Leicester, two types of Double Gloucester, a Kerry Gold Cheddar, a wheel of Laughing Cow and a sampler of Spanish cheeses (I love me some Manchego). 

He seemed to take it in stride knowing I think like he does and moved on to use some of the shredded cheddar to make some indescribably delicious cheesy polenta as part of dinner – I could have licked the bowl.  Later in the week Tony and I caught up at a meeting and grinning like a knight just returning from the crusades he presented me with a wedge of Smoked Gouda.  I practically swooned and my thoughts were “My God I love this man” and also “Enabler!”  I have never felt so seen and heard…

Now as I mentioned I have a tendency to do things to excess.  I always have and to some extent I always will. I will go out on a limb and say most alcoholics and addicts are the same.  This is why those of us in twelve-step recovery will try and stay in steps 10, 11 and 12 once we have done the previous 9.  We have to constantly be alert to our motives and the fact that our thinking can get us into trouble even when we have the best of intentions.  This is why we should have sponsors to check in with and other people in the program to bounce our thoughts off of who can hear what we say and gently re-direct us.  This is why I pray and meditate and talk to Joe as well.

Now I don’t intend to change all the things I used to do in excess.  I will still madly love my children, I will just have to make sure I do so in a healthy way.  I don’t intend to stop studying the things that will help to further my effectiveness as a therapist, but I don’t have to stay up half the night to do so, I can pace myself.  I can still help people in the program, but I once again must pace myself and not take on too much at a time so I don’t overload myself completely.  I have learned that balance in my life is key.

Now will I do something about my cheese problem… Probably not.  The only cheese I have any control over is Brie and that is because I have learned I have no control over it whatsoever if that makes any sense.  This is why I never buy it unless people are coming over for dinner and I am feeding it to them as an appetizer.  If I buy it for myself it might make it to the fridge and it might not.  What is more likely to happen is that I will come to in front of some true crime show in a lactose induced stupor on the couch amid cracker crumbs and an empty Brie wrapper and not know what has hit me.  So, no I won’t likely do much more about my cheese problem than limiting my Brie intake.  In fact I may go out later today because I am out of Red Leicester which is just a wax-paper wrapped crime in the making!  Listen don’t even get me started on chocolate…

 

 

 

"And the Universe Smiles"

 

“And the Universe Smiles”

 

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorns have roses”.

-Alphonse Karr, A Tour Round My Garden

 

 

 

A number of months ago I was having a Tuesday.  I had gotten up and done all the things I normally do to start my day.  I talked to Joe, did my daily readings, journaled, made coffee etc.…  I had a list of things to do before I saw clients and it wasn’t going smoothly.  My car was giving me trouble, my prescription wasn’t ready, there wasn’t anywhere to park, and I was in a mood all before 9:00 am.  As I walked up to my back door all but muttering under my breath, I noticed a small vase of flowers set on the shelf by my back door.  They had been placed there for me by my sweet neighbor, Nancy. 

She has a little dog named Scooter and when I walk past her house in the mornings I will often leave him a dog treat to find when they come out for a walk.  So she sometimes leaves me little gifts from her garden, like tomatoes or flowers.  When I saw this little vase of flowers I snapped back into gratitude and all the things that had been bothering me that morning became like tiny mosquito bites hardly worth the energy it takes to scratch.  I thought in that moment, “The universe is smiling on me”.

I have a year of sobriety again and it feels good.  I must say I’m wearing it well and the appreciation I have for it is oceanic.  This time last year I was in rehab trying to figure out if I had any hope of ever digging my way out of the hole I was in.  Over the course of the past year my life has turned 180 degrees on its axis.  I came out of rehab and I went to PHP, then IOP, then OP.  I then got a therapist whom I continue to see and a psychiatrist and I adhere to the medication prescribed.  I make sure I don’t forget the things I learned from the relapse prevention unit I was on in rehab.  I have a routine I keep to and I try not to take too much on because that is one of the things I do to myself which causes me problems if I am not careful.  I meditate, journal and I talk to my higher power every day.

I was blessed enough to embark on my second career as a therapist at an agency I really like.  I work as an independently contracted therapist for a community behavioral health agency so I have some flexibility on how I set up my hours and my week which suits me just fine.  I love my clients and working with them is hard but fulfilling.  My children are doing so well and they so deserve that.  They have had to worry about me too much over their short lives and I hope that now they can just enjoy growing up and being teenagers.  Dermot is working at a karate studio and has his first level junior black belt.  He convinced me to join karate and now has me working toward being an instructor like him.  The fact that he wants me to do this with him touches my heart in ways I cannot describe.  Wren is a confident and incredible young woman who continues to amaze me with her artistic abilities and academic prowess, not to mention her withering sarcasm and humorous take on life.  She comes to my house for one-on-one time often and we have so much fun.  They both came to a meeting with me the other night to see me get my one-year coin and it was a special moment.  It was a much nicer moment than when they came with Frank to drop me off at rehab the year before.

I started dating a wonderful man in March.  He’s also in the program and has many more years of sobriety than I do.  He’s full of wisdom and kindness and treats me better than I thought was possible and if I’m honest, better than I sometimes think I deserve.  That is something I continue to work on though.  He and I are navigating our way through what seems to be the healthiest relationship either one of us has ever had and it is pretty magical.  The best thing is neither one of us saw it coming and it just feels natural and oh so right.  His name is Tony and I think I will keep him.

So when I start to wander off course in my head and start believing that mosquito bites are really chicken pox, I have to picture Nancy’s flowers waiting for me at my back door.   Because the fact is the universe never stopped smiling on me, I just tend to get in my own way and forget to look.

 

The Lost Art of Shrinky Dinks

 

                         “The Lost Art of Shrinky Dinks”

 

“So much of being sane and happy begins with the doing of things that are sane and happy.”

Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way Every Day P. 166

 

 

 

There are times when I am struggling with some problem or question and find myself turning it over and over in my head and feel like I am spinning my wheels.  I, like many fellow addicts (and just fellow humans), tend to overthink.  I can complicate to most simple of tasks or concepts.  I can get myself so twisted up that I can’t find my way out of a paper bag!

This is when my daily conversations with Joe are most critical.  I go outside on my deck and look upward speaking aloud the issues that plaque me.  In the ritualistic querying I somehow unkink the issue and untangle my thoughts.  The road ahead becomes clearer and it’s as though a map appears.  If the path forward is not immediately evident then I am reminded that I must seek the advice and counsel of others.  Which people I should reach out to becomes obvious to me in the early morning supplication.  More often than not I find myself laughing at how obvious the answer is and how blind I have been.  I sometimes will be so excited or relieved that I will rush back inside with my plan only to rush back out with an apology because I haven’t finished my prayer and ended my conversation.

I find this over-complication with clients as well.  When a client is having an issue with a significant other and expressing frustration that their partner didn’t do what they needed, my first prompt is, “well, did you tell them what you need?”  Invariably the answer is “no”.  Our partners can’t read minds so if we don’t express to them what our wants or needs are, they are going to fail these secret love tests every time.  The simple answer is to communicate.

When I mention meditation to clients some of them balk at the idea.  Traditional meditation is what most people imagine, sitting in a quiet place and focusing your mind so it does not wander.  You can do so in silence or you can use guided meditation.  But meditation is about developing intentional focus and minimizing your random thoughts, focusing attention and having an open attitude.  I encourage clients to think of how that might look for them.  Listening to music might be meditation for them, if you lose yourself in the music and you are no longer thinking about yesterday, or tomorrow and are fully present then isn’t that a form of meditation?  What about doing a jigsaw puzzle and getting lost in that task?  Meditation takes many forms and you just have to find what best works for you – we make it more complicated than it needs to be.

Then there is the concept of self-care.  I always encourage clients to think about self-care, generally ending sessions with questions about what they will do for themselves in terms os self-care over the next week.  This tends to trip people up.  Most people are terrible at self-care, believing that it will take too much time, or money.  I hear clients mention spa days and massages. Both of which are great, but those are not the only things we can do.  You can take yourself out on a date for example, whatever that might look like for you.  Self-care can be much simpler.  Self-care can be a series of small changes and gestures that you do for yourself.  You can light candles, brew your favorite tea and read a new book.  You can cook a nice meal and sit down to eat it with intention.  You can go for a mindful walk on a beautiful day.  You can simply say “uncle” at the end of a long day and go to bed early.  All of this and more is self-care.  Don’t over-complicate it and see it for what it is.

Depressed clients think that they have to have some major, overnight shift in perspective that will have them magically wake up feeling better and happy overnight.  It doesn’t work that way unfortunately, but you can gradually emerge from depression over time.  One way to help this process along is to do things that make you happy (or used to).  If you do things that used to make you happy then at some point the mind’s muscle memory will kick is and you will start to enjoy them again.  But does this mean that you have to book a trip to Disney?  I mean you can certainly…  But think simple.  I have two groups that I facilitate.  One is a women’s support group and one is a chronic pain group.  The chronic pain group, as you may imagine, has members who deal with pain daily and often suffer depression because of their bodily situations.  We often cover heavy topics in that group and we decided as a group that we would like a “fun day”.  I asked them what they might like to do so I would have time to put it onto place as it isn’t easy to organize such things over zoom.  The answer was some sort of arts and crafts day.  Thus I sent out packets to them each and we had a session where we all sat on zoom and made shrinky dinks together.  Shrinky dink art is a throw-back to my childhood and it did the trick.  I had never heard this group of people laugh before.  This simple arts and craft project was a joyful example of self-care at its finest!

Rule #62 in AA is “Don’t take yourself too seriously”.  We could all be better served by listening to that advice more often. 

Broken Vases

 

 

     “Broken Vases”

 

“A fine glass vase goes from treasure to trash, the moment it is broken.  Fortunately, something else happens to you and me.  Pick up your pieces.  Then, help me gather mine.”

Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

 

 

 

The kids and I are going on a road trip in July.  This is something that pre-pandemic we had done annually but we haven’t been able to since and we can’t wait.  Each year always saw the main focus of the trip landing us in Indiana at my best friend Liz’s house.  She and her family are our second family and it is always like a second homecoming.  This year is especially exciting because we are to attend her step-daughter’s wedding. 

Liz and I face-time over coffee most mornings, because who wouldn’t do that with their best friend if they could?  The other week she let me know that Kristi had requested Wren and I come with Liz on the morning of the wedding to help her get ready.  I mean, what an honor?  Liz then let me know that Kristi mentioned one of the reasons was that she said, “I feel like I need Fiona there to keep me calm.”  When I heard that I did an internal double-take.

I hear that a lot lately – that I am a calming influence.   I hear it from clients, from friends, from acquaintances and from my boyfriend.  Yes as a side-note I have a boyfriend… there will be more on him in later posts I’m sure.  When asked, he let me know that I could write about him as he trusts me but I feel like I want to keep him to myself for just a little bit longer.  Know I am incredibly happy and I never saw this relationship coming but I am choosing to follow the energy of it in the healthiest and most passionate way I know how.

To hear that people find me to be a calming influence is both an honor and immensely baffling at the same time.  I will just say that I have not traditionally been known for being even-keeled.  I would say that in the past my emotions have been all over the map and my actions followed suit.  A few weeks ago I wrote about what it is like for me to live in “the calm” and how it is both a blessing and a curse.  Mostly though it is a blessing and how it affects others in a positive way is one of those blessings.

The fact that I can now give a sense of peace to others brings me joy.  I could never have imagined that before.  I know that I can’t take credit for it though.  I know that credit is entirely due to my relationship with my higher power and my work with the steps.  I have rituals that I perform every morning without fail.  If I don’t perform these rituals I am of no use to myself of others. 

I start my day off by heading out my door and standing out on my deck – rain or shine.  I start my conversation out with Joe by a simple “Good morning” followed by a heart-felt expression of gratitude.  I recite a quote from Cervantes that has great meaning to me and then a quote of my own.  Then I talk to him.  I talk to him about the previous day and about the day to come.  I ask him every day to guide me.  I ask for patience and focus and ask that he allow me to help others in whatever way he sees fit.  Some days I talk about a client of two and what I struggle to understand about them and what is blocking me from being the best therapist to them that I can be.  Some days the answer to how I can best approach them comes in those moments on the deck.  The ritual ends with me reciting the Third Step Prayer.  Then I end the show I am sure my neighbors have seen a few times and questioned my sanity over, and I head inside.

This has now set me up to walk through the day in a measured and intention-filled way.  This is why I seem calm now to others… because I am.  I must radiate or broadcast this without realizing it.  The fact that it helps others is up to Joe but I am so pleased that it does and that he has chosen to use me in this fashion. 

So in July I will be heading to my second home to transmit some calm to a bride-to-be and I can’t think of a better way to spend a summer day.

 

The Tournament

 

 

     “The Tournament”

 

“Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do, begin it, because action has magic, grace and power in it.”

Goethe

 

 

 

A few years ago Dermot asked us if he could join karate.  His buddy was taking it and he really wanted to try.  Now Dermot has always been a joiner.  Frank has a garage and basement full of discarded sports equipment to prove his enthusiasm for different things.  He gets excited about everything he lays his eyes on and REALLY wants to get involved.  Some of them stick, but not all (not most if we are honest).  We were hesitant until he created a PowerPoint presentation with said buddy and persuaded us he was serious - at least in the moment.  Karate stuck.  Boy did it stick.  Fast forward a few years and he has earned his junior black belt, is going on to work toward his first level senior black belt, has a job working at the studio instructing and just got offered another job at a new studio opening up to work as the director of admissions.  We could not be more proud of him and what karate has provided him in terms of self-confidence, discipline and structure.

During one of the promotional months, parents could train for free and Dermot really wanted Frank and I to take advantage of that so we did.  Frank trains for half-marathons and gets his exercise else-where and it wasn’t really a fit for him so he didn’t keep going but I have.  I should say I did it for a while and dropped off while my life was in the upheaval of relapse but now I am back.  There is something about karate that speaks to me.  The camaraderie, the poetry of the motion of the katas, the confidence I gain from knowing the self-defense moves and the fact that I get to beat the shit out of wave masters when I have things to work through and get really sweaty makes all the difference in my life.  Me and exercise have never been friends but for some reason this works for me.  I wouldn’t say I am the most graceful, but I am determined and I am loud. 

Recently I entered my first tournament.  I never imagined that at the age of 49 I would be working toward getting a black belt and I would be sign myself up to compete in such a fashion.  I can’t tell you how nervous I was going into it.  I’d seen Dermot do it before, but competing myself was a whole different ball game.  I had to perform a kata for one category and in another I had to demonstrate two different self-defenses.  I froze on my first self-defense and nailed the second.  I earned a third place medal for the kata.      

Me being me, I immediately started listening to that evil little voice in my head that tells me I could have done better and that I should have practiced harder and that third is not as good as first.  I have abhorrent negative self-talk.  I managed to listen to the others around me and take in the congratulations and quiet the voice that always tells me that I am not good enough.  But that has taken me years of practice.  I will tell you that I could have practiced harder but now that I know what to expect I will and I will shoot for first place not so much to compete against others, but to aim for my own personal best.  When I started this process I could barely do a sit up, but now I can keep up with the class on those and I can plank for a full minute, though I feel like throwing up afterwards!

The thing with negative self-talk is that it is an ingrained voice.  It’s learned from old, but that also means that it can be unlearned.  I can laugh now at how insistent it is and how ridiculous it sounds.  I was talking to one of the groups I lead at work about this same topic the other day and we decided we would try to name our negative self-talk voices.  I decided to name mine “Moriarty” after Sherlock Holmes’s nemesis.  I can do battle against Moriarty when he rears his ugly head and that makes it somehow easier.

When self-doubt arises and makes me want to quit before I start I try to remember how far I have come in life.  I have to tell it that I can do a spinning side kick now and that makes me an official bad ass really.  When Moriarty starts to drone on I just have to remember who the fuck I am.

The Calm

 

     “The Calm”

 

“If you act anxiously to hasten your results you delay their arrival.  Calm poise reveals the shortest route home.”

Alan Cohen

 

 

For most of my adult life I have lived on a bit of an emotional roller coaster.  I have swung from high to low and seldom had the privilege of coasting in what I call “the calm” for any length of time.  I used to tell people that I hated the swing and that I longed to stay in the middle more.  But truth be told there was always a part of me that craved the Adrenalin rush of the highs and the maudlin familiarity of the lows, because when I was in the middle, I had to face too many things.

“The Calm” is where everyday life occurs and daily routines are established and play out.  It is where the basis for happy memories are established and it is where the foundation of successes are built.  But it is also where long-buried demons lay dormant.

In the highs, nothing negative could touch me.  In the lows, I felt at home, safe in the dank embrace of miserable immobility.  But in “the calm”, anything can happen at any time.  I used to feel on edge in the mundanity of the everyday, constantly on alert waiting for the other shoe to drop.  While in the soup aisle at the grocery store a dragon from the past would roar up unexpectedly out of nowhere and have me shaking with muscle memory and PTSD.  An innocent tap on the shoulder while in line at the check-out line turned into an attack from a potential predator and I would jump out of my skin.  One of my children entering my bedroom in the middle of the night to ask me a question would become my molester and I would scream, scaring us both.  On a long and boring commute my mind would wander and a creature of memory would rise from the murky depths to pull me under when I was all but defenseless.

I was never defended enough to live in that state for long.  Now, however, I have the tools I need.  After this last stay in rehab in July of 2021, I did a lot of work… a lot.  I participated in an intensive relapse prevention program that helped me to examine my patterns.  It helped me to identify the things I do way before I pick up a drink – in essence the relapse that happens before the relapse.  I also attended a trauma group that had me explore, through psychodrama, unresolved grief and guilt I had over Liam’s untimely death.  To speak aloud how I felt my body betrayed us both was like allowing Atlas’ burden to shrug from my own shoulders.  To lay that spectral pain down at my feet was so profound and the relief I felt from it was oceanic.

I also met with a psychiatrist who changed my medication and for the first time I felt my mind shift to a place of peace. I have been diagnosed and re-diagnosed with so many disorders over the years that I feel like mental health professionals have been spinning a veritable Wheel of Fortune and landing on something new each time I did an intake.  I no longer even care what the diagnoses is as long as this medication regimen stays put now.

One of the many things I learned in relapse prevention is that before I pick up a drink and relapse, I start taking on too many things.  I start believing I can do it all and saying “yes” to everything.  So in order to handle “the calm” and all that comes with it – the memories, nightmares and demons that rear up to be dealt with – I am moving slowly and with peaceful intention.

“The Calm” is now actually my happy place.  I get to be “me” here – my authentic self, awkward and content; full of love and grateful for every mundane and beautiful moment.  I have learned to slow down… Because life is so often lived in the moments lived between the lines.

"Look at All That I've Been Given"

     “Look at All That I’ve Been Given”

 

“I don’t care how many times you fall, if you trip, or if you’re pushed, even if you stumble over your own two feet… You’re a phoenix.  Just keep rising.”

Wren Purcell

 

 

 

I have a routine in the mornings now.  I get up and feed the cats because if I don’t, chaos ensues.  Then I make coffee and take it out onto my little wooden deck in the front of my house.  I look out across the Schuylkill River at the flashing red lights of the broadcast towers in Roxborough on the hill opposite and I talk to Joe.  I have conversations with him about the dreams I had and my worries or what makes me laugh.  I talk out loud because to do anything less makes it seem like it doesn’t count somehow.  Some days I talk for a long time and some days I don’t have much to say, but I do it every day now.  I always start the conversation out with, “Good morning Joe… Look at all that I’ve been given.”

I started doing that a few months ago because in the few minutes it takes me to wake up, get up, feed the cats and make coffee I had found that I could already get into a selfish headspace.  A headspace of ungratefulness and self-centeredness.  My thoughts could already start running on a hamster wheel of what was wrong with my life and how I was a victim of circumstance and how others had done me wrong.  Seriously, just five minutes or so and negativity would start to take over.  But if I go outside and look at the lights and the stars and say, “Look at all that I’ve been given.” I can course correct and reboot.  I start to think about how grateful I am for where I am and who I have in my life still and who loves me despite myself.  There are so many things I am blessed with and the things that don’t work or need fixing are like mosquito bites in the grander scheme of things. 

A month or so ago I was at a meeting and the topic centered around step seven which talks about shortcomings and humility.  The speaker was mentioning that he finds people with humility are the ones with gratitude and they are the ones who are most attractive as people.  Something about the topic and the shares moved me to tears.  I so want to be one of those people.  I want to be one of the humble who eschews thinking about what I have been through and thinking that I am somehow owed because of it.  I want so much to remember that I am blessed instead and reach my hands out to help others.

This past Saturday I turned 49.  My whole, lovely and whacky extended family took me out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant.  My daughter baked me a chocolate cake from an old recipe of my Aunt’s that was my favorite growing up.  They made me wear the cheesy sombrero while I blew out the candles and I got some really thoughtful gifts.  My sixteen-year-old son got a gift card for me for the movies so we can go on a mother-son date, “because we haven’t gone on a date to the movies in a long time mom”.  My fourteen-year-old daughter, besides baking the cake, painted the picture of the phoenix attached to the post and wrote the quote that goes with it.  Quite obviously I cried with happiness.

A year ago on my birthday I was hiding the fact that I was drinking and I didn’t think I was going to reach 50 at the time.  Now… well now I get to start my day saying, “look at all that I’ve been given.”