Busy Busy Time

I am gearing up for our Self Advocacy Conference on Saturday, April 4th. This is a very busy time for me -- getting everything ready and this year I am missing my assistant. And there are so many events in Boston to commemorate some of the great work we've all been doing -- feel like I should just get a commuter pass.

I love what I do. I love feeling like what I do is important in the lives of others. But I am tired and into my pre-conference crankies.

Folks in my office know to stay away from me this time of year. That's a good thing.

And the death of Natasha Richardson really threw me last night. It was an oh, so not subtle reminder of the fragility of life and a reminder to take time to value and appreciate all we have. Especially the ones we love. Just wish I had the time.

Yikes!

Wahoo!

Just found out my Guru, Dave Hingsburger, is coming to Western Mass in June. Within 5 minutes of receiving the email announcing the training, I faxed in my registration. How cool is this? Funny, I dislike the agency that is presenting his training, but I am more than willing to put that aside and go listen to Dave. I have followed his work for years but have never been given the chance to hear him up close and personal. I am so stoked.

follow up

well, the comments from the Kalmars and descendents about addictions have been interesting. I think there is a whole lot of truth to the genetic flaw theory, but also truth to the we do what we see. We live the way our parents lived. We cope the way they coped -- or not. We find ways to destroy our bodies in very similar ways -- though the drug of choice may be different. I am not a 12 stepper. Have been through two years of meetings of O.A. and though the results were very positive in terms of weight loss, as soon as I stopped the very regimented plan I was on, the weight came back. And the compulsive eating returned. I think my problem with the 12 step program was the whole higher power thing. Yeah, I get it, the higher power can be anyone or anything you choose. But my groups were so totally supreme being focused, that that piece didn't work for me. Feeling that some higher power had the time to worry about whether I ate a doughnut or not just didn't seem like the thing a higher power should waste his/her time on. That's my own stuff. If the 12 steps works for you, fantastic. I'm a firm believer in if it works for you, to hell with what someone else may think about your recovery journey.

For me, for right now, I am trying to do some stuff about when my addictions act up, and what is going on at the time. Figuring out what I have been doing when I feel strong. Am I finding ways to handle stress or whatever in a positive way. Some times I feel it's the whole bad girl thing. This is what I shouldn't be doing, let's see if I can get away with it. Who the hell gets cheated in that scenario?

I am an addict.....

I come from a long line of addicts. If I smoke, I smoke a zillion cigarettes. If I eat, I eat everything I can find. If I drink, I drink until I fall down. What the hell?

My parents generation had major addiction issues -- food, booze, pills. You name it. My generation of cousins is littered with gambling addicts, coke heads, alcoholics, overeaters, co-dependents, smokers. Many of us have recovered, even if for a while, but we continue to struggle. Some of us have died from our addictions. Many of us have married addicts of one sort or another. Some more than once.

What is this about? Did we inherit this genetic flaw? Are we all looking for something we're missing? Are we all weak?

Hey, Kalmars and our descendents, jump in on this one. Any clues? Any tips? Should we start our own Kalmar 12 Step Program?

yikes

I have managed to take all kinds of training around sexuality and relationships for the people we support and have co-written a curriculum for the folks in our agency and feel comfortable with the material and the learnings, but today, I am in freak out mode. I have to go out and sell myself and my knowledge to an agency that wants me to work with two of the women they support. Now, I know I can handle it. I know I can relate to the women. I know I will have support with me. But it's me I'm selling as well as my knowledge and skills.

I thought I was cool with this -- but realize it's the being judged part that is scaring me. Suppose they don't like me. Suppose they don't like my hair cut, or decide I'm too fat. Suppose they don't like the pants I'm wearing. Suppose they don't like my New York accent. Suppose they think I'm a fraud. Suppose they just don't like me. Suppose they see that I'm not a good enough person.

Once again, my brain knows the material. I know I have the skills. But I panic 'cause it's ME they will be judging.

damn, insecurity. I'm back to being a kid getting judged or evaluated for everything I do. The old tapes are playing. Loudly!

what to believe....

I went to a funeral yesterday and they sang three old hymns that I grew up singing and it brought back a slew of memories. Some great, some scary and some just very uncomfortable. As I've written before I've wandered through most religions/belief systems and never seem to land in a comfortable spot. Yesterday I missed the "comfort" of a child's blind faith. The surety that what I'm singing about and reading about is "truth". I don't like uncertainty and as I got older that's what religion provided. I could never buy the stories. My scientifically bent brain just knew a bunch of that stuff could not, did not, will not, work the way I was being told.

So for the last couple of months I have suspended belief in everything. This is it. There is no god or goddess. There is no after life. There is no magical spirit to guide or punish. There just is now. And that eased all the guilt I had been raised with about being a good person and deserving of an afterlife.

But I'm not sure again. Some of my happiest and most secure "religious" moments as an adult, were when I was wandering through Paganism or Wicca. I have always felt a certain draw to the natural order of things and the majesty of a mountain or the simple brilliance of a leaf. I thrill at the sound of the wind. I stand in awe of a full moon. I sit in my living room and stare for hours at the snow covered mountain across the street. I love the feel and look of our wall of Goddesses as you enter our home.

I'm feeling myself being drawn, or drawing back, to where I found comfort.

I'm back....

took a couple of days off from writing. I think my brain was on freeze from the weather we've been having. Yet another day of snow and ice yesterday -- plus other than whining about the weather I really couldn't think of anything of consequence to write about.

SuperBowl is this Sunday and since neither the Patriots or the Giants are in, this isn't high on my priority list.

Work is work. Some exciting things going on, but nothing anyone but me would be excited about.

The economy is in the dumpster. Everyone is whining about that.

How come the Republicans under Tyrant Bush can give away zillions to every corporate exec and bank in the world, and yet every one of them, as a group, voted against the Obama stimulus plan. Yeah, there are some things in it I'm not crazy about, but give the guy a chance. So much for bi-partisanship.

I saw my first anti-Obama bumper sticker yesterday. Bright yellow, with the numbers "1-20-13, Obama's last day in office." A little positive thinking here would be helpful.

I'm having trouble mustering up positive energy myself. I am beyond tired of this winter. I am beyond tired of the negative energy everywhere. The highs of Inauguration Day should have lasted longer.