Just a kid on her bike and her dad jogging alongside. “I want to learn how to shoot the basketball better,” she said. “We play it every day at P.E.”. She was seven. So off to the elementary school grounds we went. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. Approaching the asphalt playground, she jumped off…
So 12-step recovery suggests I find a God (or god) of my own understanding. That’s a hard enough task for your average alcoholic or addict. But when bipolar mania, coupled with psychosis, once had you convinced that you were God… of rather that more obscure member of the Trinity, the Holy Ghost, that is some…
I’m taking a whiz in an inappropriate place again. Apparently five plus years of sobriety have done little to suppress “the world is my toilet” viewpoint that I subscribe to. Tonight it’s the side of a forest-green Waste Management Dumpster behind a Fry’s supermarket. The street sweeping company I drive for has sent me to…
Celia never seemed to put more than a few months together clean. A complete failure at recovery. Not worth the 24-hour, 30-day and occasional 60-day aluminum chips she was picking up with regularity. At least that’s what some thought. The short, short cutoff jeans. The barely-there blouses. For the healthy ones in the rooms, clothes…
Yes, I know better. But sometimes I make the mistake of watching the news. Though I swore off drinking 11+ years ago, each time I take a broadcast I get served a toxic cocktail—one-part Anger, one-part Hatred, two-parts Outrage and a splash of Victimhood. In no time, I am on an emotional bender. Anger and…
My last bipolar manic episode was what my 94-year-old mother would call a “doozey.” (Sure, my Facebook analytics tell me my followers skew Millennial. Perhaps I should express myself in emojis and f-bombs. But I am guessing there isn’t a little icon or string of profanity that could properly describe an episode that still has…
Is it “Live and Let Live” or should it be “Love Unconditionally and Let Live?” Anyone who has been to enough 12-step meetings has seen the slogans on the wall: “Easy Does It,” “But for the Grace of God,” “Think, Think, Think,” “First Things First,” and of course “Live and Let Live.” Over the next…
Once again I was wrong. Once again it was due to my over-inflated belief that my way is the only way. Once again the error of my way was spoken to my heart in a moment of silence. You can call it God, Universal Power, The Inner Guide, Your Higher Self or whatever you please.…
I did it again. Slick ad on Facebook. A play to my reoccurring feeling of brokenness. A catchy title. Click… PayPal… Click. Three days later it was in my mailbox. Another self-help tome hoping to find a home in my already overcrowded bookshelf. Before it was shelved I read the first four chapters… not bad……
At a 12-step home group I regularly attend there is a prominently displayed sign at the front of the room: “Hope is Found Here.” Really? I was in-and-out of rooms of recovery for over 14 years. Relapse after relapse left me despairing, discouraged and hopeless. Though I appreciate the sentiment, my experience leads me to…