Alcoholism

After the debacle of my starter marriage, I made sure my eyes were open when I started dating my forever husband. He, like me, was a mild social drinker. He would have a glass of wine at night, maybe a beer, maybe two.  We would have more on weekends or when we were out with friends. Somewhere along the line though, something changed for him. During our first couple years of marriage, I noticed he was drinking 5 to 6 beers a night (Miller Lite, if you can even call that watery beer a beer. I’ve become such a beer snob!).

If you’ve been a reader of my blogs, you’ll understand how Trinity has helped me heal my own pain throughout the years. You’ll also understand how I have empowered him to do the same. He has been instrumental in me becoming the woman you know today. He has successfully done what others could not; he has helped me find and use my voice effectively. I, through gritted teeth, often tell God and my angels that they can knock off the “using my voice” lessons anytime.

I would tell him how frightened I was by his usage of alcohol. He would, in the earlier years, agree he was drinking too much and he would back off.  About 3 years ago, though, that all changed. A six pack of Miller Lite or two glasses of wine was no longer satisfying. He had moved on to Heineken, Guinness and then the high-alcohol content craft beers, not to mention bottles and then boxes of wine. As days moved into months, his consumption increased in direct proportion to my fears.

As Trinity’s drinking exceeded even his maximum, I became frantic. The way I was approaching him wasn’t working so I took several steps back. My husband has helped me overcome so much…and here was another way he did so. Instead of feeling as if my (and our daughter’s) safety was threatened by his alcohol usage, I backed off. I decided I could no longer count how many beers he had, I could no longer call it out to him and that took tremendous pressure off of me. I stepped back from sort of a parental role and decided I had made my fears known. I had been clear about his alcohol consumption and I needed to give him space to figure it out on his own.

One night he came home late and had been drinking. Our daughter was 3. He stood in our entry way with tears in his eyes and said, “I can’t stop with just one. I’ve tried. I can’t stop with just one drink.”  I thought that was it; I thought that was his rock bottom but it wasn’t even close. I would wait two more years before that happened.

After the discovery of his emotional affair in late 2015, he vowed to stop, or at least slow down his drinking. He did well for about a week and then I noticed a beer on his desk at 4:30, then at 3:00, then at noon. It would get earlier and earlier each day.  Towards the end he was drinking at 9:00 in the morning. He tells me now I didn’t know the half of how much he was drinking. For that I am thankful as what I knew terrified me.

I watched our bank accounts dwindle and I refused to say anything to him. My thought was, “He makes money, he can spend it as he sees fit.” As is the way with alcoholics, secrets and hiding things from others are a way of life. What was being charged to our credit card was only about half of what he was really spending.

In September 2016, on my birthday, he was arrested for DUI. When he told me about it, I thought two things: “This is going to financially fuck us without lube.” and “Thank you, GOD! Thank you! Maybe this is what he needs to finally get some help.” But it wasn’t. In fact, he repeatedly stated that he was only at .09 and “that’s barely over the legal limit.” He missed the point entirely. For him, .09 was barely breaking a sweat; it was his normal Blood Alcohol Content. He hired an attorney and pled down to reckless driving.

My reaction to his drinking was subconscious but I was experiencing real PTSD because of it. I didn’t put these pieces together until an amazing counselor at the VA pointed out that I felt like everything I wanted or had obtained, my entire way of life, my existence, was once again being threatened by alcohol.  This was the counselor my husband and I went to after I had my anxiety breakdown. He also witnessed my physical distress as my body shook like that of a scared dog. It was him who suggested I might be in fear for (and fighting for) my life.

(Jim, if you are reading this, I thank GOD for you every day. I didn’t have the knowledge to work through this one and you helped put some of the puzzle pieces together. There was no coincidence that I found you. Thank you for helping me heal.)

Jim pointed out that I have lost (almost) everyone I’ve loved due to the highly addictive bitch called Alcohol. They have either physically or emotionally abandoned me or I have had to leave them. This explains why I have Abandonment issues in this lifetime, doesn’t it?!! Alcohol(ism) is in both my maternal and paternal sides of the family. On a scale of 1 to 10 of how terrified I felt due to Trinity’s drinking, I was at a 12. This was a mouth-goes-dry-eyes-go-wide-body-tremors-flight-fight-or-freeze kind of 12.

I hated who he became when he was drinking. Couldn’t he see how this terrified me? Didn’t he care? Where was the man I married? He’d be horrified at the thought of hurting me. It turns out, the man I married was still in there, but his brain chemistry had changed so much that he no longer cared about anything except alcohol. He didn’t care about his health, his work, his marriage or his children; he just wanted to escape. He became mean, impatient and angry with the world. He would use vulgar, lewd and harassing language in front of our daughter. He constantly reeked of booze and when he would touch me in ways I viewed as volatile, he would belligerently laugh as I rebuked him.

He was really bringing out the big guns to get me to leave our marriage. He was fighting against growing spiritually and dealing with his emotional pain. He still viewed himself as unworthy and unloveable and he was trying to avoid the spiritual Mack truck that was bearing down upon him.

I had made a vow before him and God that I was never going to leave him and I meant it.  As with his affair, he expected me to leave him because that was what people in his life did. He wanted me to leave him so he didn’t have to face reality. At one point, towards the very end when he was drunk and having a pity party for one, he insinuated he was going to ask me for a divorce.

I nonchalantly thought, “Go ahead buddy. I’m not afraid of being alone anymore. You’ve made me stronger. I no longer fear abandonment. I know Ceta and I will be just fine without you but know this; We’ve been through too much and I’m NOT leaving you. You do it, you call it quits, after all it’s what you do, Mr. Avoidance but I believe we made a commitment to help each other overcome our past life issues. I’ve been there for you and I’ve given you a safe place to do just that. I trust you’d do the same for me. I am NOT leaving.”

The truth of the matter was I wasn’t sure how much longer I could physically do this.

 

 


This is the second of a trilogy of blogs: 
Part 1: Alcoholic
Part 2: Alcoholism
Part 3: Sober

~ For background reading pertaining to this blog:
Anxiety
Unloveable
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Angel

I was making our bed this morning when I glanced up and saw the most beautiful angel standing in the corner of our bedroom. He was very tall (7 or 8 feet), very handsome (understatement) and dressed in all black. He had dark, shoulder-length wavy hair and mesmerizing sapphire blue eyes. While I’m not in the habit of seeing angels in our bedroom, I really didn’t think much about it. Lately, strange shit has been happening both inside and outside of my work environment.

I did startle but rallied quickly and greeted him with a casual, “Oh, don’t-mind-me. I’m-just-making-our-bed” voice, “Hey dude! What’s up?”  He smiled a smile that had the ability to make me forget how to breathe but he didn’t answer.  I thought again of how breathtakingly, ethereally beautiful he was. I shrugged my shoulders, finished making the bed and left for work.

When I returned home, I changed clothes and as is my practice, I began walking to get my dolly from daycare. The same angel easily and quietly fell in step beside me before I got half way down the block.

I thought, “This is odd. What the hell is this angel …oh ohhh.” I instantly flashed back to when my dad was dying and the angel that came for him. That angel, equally as astonishingly beautiful was also dressed in black but he had jet black eyes (don’t freak out; Hollywood has demonized black eyes but they’re not to be feared!).

I snapped a terse, “Dude. What are you doing? Why are you here?!” And he calmly said, “I am here to protect you.”  I said, “Are you sure? The last time I saw your kind you took my dad Home.” He repeated, “I am here to protect you.”

My mind went to my husband. He, whom I love beyond what a mere word can convey, has been having some unexplained health concerns recently. He is a Gulf War veteran and the chemical warfare used by the other side was/is insidious. Many of those chemicals were designed to activate slowly in order to disable and debilitate our troops over the course of decades.

I had just told him, less than a week ago, that my spidey sense was tingling as there had been too many signs recently.  You see, I have been seeing threes everywhere again, in fact, just the other night I awoke at exactly 3:33. There are no coincidences and I’ve been trying to figure out what all these threes mean. Lawdy, I wish this spiritual stuff came with a manual.

You can understand my frame of mind when I said to the angel, “You’re not here for my husband, are you? I’ve been seeing threes everywhere for the last three months. Are you here for him?!”  Again he calmly said, “I am here to protect you.”

So, that was what…three (THREE again?!! Are you SHITTING ME?! Come ON!) times he stated he was here to protect me. And yet I still didn’t believe him. In fact, I was so freaked out, I called my husband while this angel walked beside me and told him about this whole exchange. I asked him to be extra careful. He said it sounded like I needed to be extra careful. Well, what the hell? Me? What?

During the walk, the angel’s body language was casual but his eyes were vigilant. He stayed outside while I retrieved my daughter and as we started walking again, I asked Ceta if she could see the angel next to me. She twisted her head both ways and said no. She asked how I could see the angel and I told her I didn’t know how I could. I described him to her as if that would somehow magically allow her to see him. She shook her head and said she didn’t see anything.

I then heard the angel say, “I love her.” I told Ceta that and before she could say anything, I heard him say, “I respect her. I admire her.” As I finished telling Ceta this she said, “How can you hear that, mommy? I didn’t hear anything.”  I told her I sometimes hear with my head, not with my ears.  She asked how I could do that and I told her I didn’t really know.

As we continued our walk home, the energy (mood) changed. The angel said again, “I am here to protect you.” He must have been answering a question I didn’t even know I’d asked but his response was REALLY starting to freak me out. I started having a very physical reaction, too. I could feel my breath and heart rate quicken as if I was preparing for a flight, fight or freeze scenario.

As my body was physically reacting to some unseen stimuli, I intuitively heard, “Cross the street.”  I didn’t, of course, as I didn’t see what the big dealio was and besides, I was waiting to cross at the crosswalk (safety girl!). A few steps later I heard, “Cross the street.” This time it was a little more forceful but I still didn’t cross the street. I was having an internal conversation with myself that went something like this: “I’ll cross the street when I am damn good and ready, like when I get to a walking path or a driveway.” I’m a teensy bit stubborn that way and besides, I STILL didn’t see any danger. But after my internal convo faded and I took a few more strides, I became very agitated and felt like I had just moved into a high alert status.

This time the telepathic voice commanded I cross the street. Boy howdy, you didn’t have to ask me twice (this time). Nope! I didn’t wait for my own human eyes to pick up the danger or for the upcoming crosswalk. I went all Jackie Chan and cut right through someone’s yard and then through someone else’s yard. By Jove, I got to the other side of the street and I did it by picking ‘em up and putting ‘em down, like right NOW.

During my “going rogue” episode, Ceta said, “Mommy. Mommy! What are you doing, mommy?!” I said, “I wish I knew, honey, but I have to cross the street NOW.”  This is so unlike me that Ceta said, “You shouldn’t do that mommy” which is her response when she senses an injustice. Lord help the child who’s not wearing a bike helmet while riding a bike if Ceta’s around. She is SO the Lawbreaker Police.

My heart rate settled as did my breath. I couldn’t visibly detect any harm coming from the other side of the street but then again, our physical vision IS very limited. On the new side of the street, I did stop for a lady backing out of her driveway as she didn’t see us. I thought that was kind of weird as if I had stayed on the other side of the street, this situation wouldn’t have happened. But maybe something else, something far worse, might have.

My black clad, black winged companion chaperoned Ceta and I until we returned home. Safely. Has the danger passed? I don’t know. Tonight, though, I’m arming our security system. I may be um, “challenging” (ahem!) but I’m not stupid. And the angel? I just spotted him folding his huge frame into the rocking chair that sits next to my baby girl’s bed. His demeanor says, “I got this, momma. Rest easy. I’ll be here all night keeping watch.”

And that gives me a sense of protection that no armed security system ever will.

Networking

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The word “networking” has been coming up for me a lot this past month. Up until last week, I had shunned all attempts by strangers or casual acquaintances to meet for coffee. I did this for a few reasons. One is my days off are precious, full of errands and me time. I guard them like a momma honey badger. The second is I like to keep boundaries between my professional and personal life. Lastly, it hasn’t felt right and I couldn’t see a reason for doing it.  So when I received her email asking me if I’d like to have coffee, surprisingly, I didn’t hesitate. I immediately said, “Let’s do it!”

Several years ago my very wise bestie Charmaine said something to me that altered my life.  As we were sipping adult beverages by the shore of her parent’s lake cabin, we were talking about commitments. I was recently divorced and still very new to knowing about this spiritual growth stuff. She said, “Here’s how I try to live my life (I think she was all of 25 at the time). I examine each request I receive. If I immediately know I want (not should or need) to do it, I commit on the spot. If it has merit but I’m not sure, I’ll think about it and tell the person I need more time. If it doesn’t feel right or if it’s not for me, I’ll decline the invitation. Where it gets tricky is when I feel I should do such and such but my heart isn’t in it. Even with that kind of stuff, I sit with it for a while and if it feels like a chore, I won’t do it.”

I’m taking some creative license with my memory. I think, in truth, Charmaine said something like, “I won’t do something because it is socially expected of me. I don’t care if it’s a family, work or social obligation. If it feels wrong, I won’t accept the request even if my family feels I’m letting them down.”

Some time ago I wrote a blog entitled, “No” where I talked about my reaction to trying to get out of things I’d committed to but didn’t really want to do. Does praying for a natural disaster sound familiar to anyone? Uh huh. I thought so.

Over the course of the years I’ve learned how to sit with stuff and if it doesn’t feel right, I won’t commit. So let’s get back to the coffee date.  Maybe I agreed because I read energy for a living and I knew her energy was not manipulative. She didn’t want something from me and there wasn’t an ulterior motive. She was open and honest and very complimentary about my blogs (oooh yes, pet my ego..purrr….purrrrr…meeYOWWW). She’s also a fabulous woman who, at almost 40 (yes, I received permission to publish her age), is coming into her own by making decisions that may not win the popularity vote with family or friends, but they feel right to her.

We talked about our lives and loves and about ¾ of the way through our chat, I discovered I had ordered a caffeinated beverage and was talking faster than an auctioneer. Truly. And I, by nature and geographic location, am already a fast talker. I heard my voice becoming even more Alvin and the Chipmunk-like and I stopped mid-sentence, took a breath, leveled a gaze at her and said, “Shit. My coffee is caffeinated.”

I’m telling you this because even then I felt completely at ease. Maybe it’s being in my late forties. Maybe it was her energy. Maybe it was mine. I don’t know. I was comfortable with who I was and who I had become. I wasn’t worried about pepper in my teeth or the fact that I didn’t do my hair. I wasn’t concerned I wouldn’t know what to say or how to act or that I’d be judged for my choice of careers. I wasn’t worried about coming off as professional or (God FORBID) unprofessional. I was just being me and I was having fun.

It was a turning point for me and I will be forever grateful to Marilyn for conquering one of her fears by stepping out on the skinny branch (as she termed it) and asking me out for coffee. It helped me realize I no longer need to put on a public persona or act a certain way (old issue). It felt really good to make a new friend and to awaken a new healing awareness within myself.

It also felt really good to be able to share our knowledge in ways that mutually benefited us.  That, my friends, is the type of networking I’ll do all day long as it feels less like a chore and more like an extension of the Work I do while I’m in session.

(Side Note: If any of you know a Networking group you think would be able to handle me, ooops, – cough – I mean I would enjoy and be able to make valuable contributions to, please let me know.)

Money

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The relief I needed came in the form of a whisper just as I was falling asleep.  I’ve known for years the Ascended Beings find it easiest to communicate when we are somewhere between drowsiness and stage one of sleep. Even for me, someone who communicates with Guardian Angels all day long, it’s often easiest for them to ‘wow’ me with this type of unexpected and clear communication.

After my divorce, I lived in an apartment. It was only supposed to be temporary, a year tops. I didn’t know when I signed the lease that my banking position was going to be eliminated. I stayed in that apartment for five years. I thought about the money I was wasting by not building equity in a home but if I spent my savings on a home (mortgage), I’d be forced to return to the 8 to 5 (7 to 6?) grind.

Money is my security blanket. I’m a saver, not a spender. Money means having the freedom to do things, buy things and not having to eat ramen noodles or cheesy rice four out of seven nights (cough). So when I decided to skip returning to mainstream Corporate America, one of my – if not the only concern – was financial.

When I started Inner Focus Reiki, it truly was a leap of faith. I knew if I was to do this, I had to continue making my savings last. That meant I had to stretch a dollar even further or risk returning to something I found distasteful. But, all is not lost! I’m not Budget Betty’s daughter for nothing! (Note: “Budget Betty” was an affectionate name us kids gave our mom. She would drive across town to return a loaf of bread if it was 25 cents cheaper elsewhere. She, of course, didn’t calculate the cost of her time and gas money into returning said bread……)

When Trinity and I became serious, I was very clear that I would not return to Corporate America and that this – Reiki – was my passion and my job. He supported me and my decision whole-heartedly. When we run into financial struggles, I repeatedly offer to return to the workplace. He steadfastly and repeatedly says no. (Thank heavens!)

So all these years, ALL THESE YEARS, I have fussed about money. I feel really good about myself when I can save, not spend. And now that I’m part of a family again, there’s something inside of me that wants to feel like I’m earning my keep or doing my (financial) part. I’m almost in a tizzy over it.

When Trinity became self-employed in March, these frantic feelings intensified. I became a crazed fool trying to think of ideas and ways I could bring in more money. It was, as my friend Shannon recently lovingly pointed out, taking some of the fun out of my Work for me.  

When I first started IFR, my goal was to help take away the pain from just one person. That was it.  It wasn’t about the money or having full classes/meditations or even coming up with the next best thing.  No. Not once. It wasn’t about putting money in savings or contributing a larger portion of the financial pie. I just wanted to help people. I told myself if my savings became dangerously low, I’d have to leave IFR and find a ‘day’ job. That, obviously, hasn’t happened but as my family grew, so did my need to feel like I was financially contributing more.

So when the Guys recently whispered that Trinity would soon be bringing in enough money to take the self-imposed financial burden off of me, I was overcome with relief. I didn’t know how much pressure I’d placed upon myself until I heard those words. I thought, “Finally! I can get back to doing what I love and not worry about money!”

As I’m finishing this blog, my mind wanders to all the things I want to accomplish while  under the umbrella of my Work. It also wanders to the dishwasher we had to replace last week, to the clothes washer we replaced this week and to the Reiki 1 class I had to cancel for next week.

Sigh. Breathing. Trusting. Freaking OUT. Breathing.

Vasectomy

Even as teenager, I knew how many pregnancies/children I would have and I knew what order they would be born in.  I never really wanted kids during my starter marriage. In fact, I didn’t even think about having children until I was around age 38.

I wasn’t sure how the whole having children thing would work out since my marriage had gone down in flames, I was single once again and in my early 40’s.

Well! Low and behold, one day the medical community told me I had a disease that needed surgery. If I had the surgery I wouldn’t be able to have children. Well, I freaked the HELL out. Surgery wasn’t an option. I wanted children. Then I found Susie and Reiki.

Without going into specifics as it’s a story for another day, my condition – the one the medical community told me the only solution was an operation – was healed. My disease was gone.

A few years later, I was Reiki II trained and dating my husband. In our early days of dating, he decided he didn’t want any more children so he scheduled a vasectomy. There was little discussing this even though we were in a committed relationship. His mind was made up. I begged him not to do this as we both knew we were headed down the marriage path.

I had been crystal clear our entire relationship that I wanted children. I repeatedly told him I KNEW my next pregnancy would be a girl. I KNEW it.  You see, he had wanted a baby girl for so, so long. He would talk about braiding her hair and having her run to him as he came home from work. He wanted a little girl that would like to be outdoors and fish along side of him. He wanted her to reach her arms out and say, “dada.”  He was already manifesting her, but my stubborn, beautiful husband had the vasectomy anyway.

The night of his snip-snip, I prayed to God for help. Here I had met The One and I felt I could no longer continue our relationship. He knew I wanted children and he had taken steps to ensure that would never happen. I felt betrayed, dismayed and gut punched.

I woke up several times during that night. At one point, I heard, “Your miracle has been delivered.” I saw, in my mind’s eye, a small shoe box sized present wrapped in white, opalescent paper with a beautiful deep pink ribbon and bow sitting outside my apartment door.  This was so real that I actually got out of bed and opened my door. Nothing was there of course, but let me tell you, the ‘gift’ HAD been delivered. In spades.

I didn’t hear from my honey the day after his surgery. I had made it clear to him we couldn’t go on dating if he went through with his vasectomy. It tore me up. Can you imagine?! IT TORE ME UP!!!  I had already lost this man once (he dumped me!) and now I had lost him again. I KNEW I was suppose to have a child(ren) with him. It was almost too much to handle. I was completely beside myself.

The next night, after spending most of the day freaking out on the phone with Susie, I asked, out loud, “What in the hell am I suppose to do?! WHAT!?!” I heard, softly, ‘Walk the path a little longer, Little One.”   To be clear, this was in the really early days of my intuitiveness. But bless whomever’s heart for saying what They did as it got through to me.

That night, my guy called. He confirmed he went through with the vasectomy and said, “You made it pretty clear if I did this, we were finished” and I said, “I need to walk the path with you a little longer. Can you do that with me?” He said he could.

I was still waiting for the miracle I heard had occurred. I mean, did I really hear those sweet words or did I just want it so badly, that I said those words and then believed they came from a Higher Power?? I just wanted that miracle SO badly, you know? And he’d had the damn vasectomy!

Well, here it is folks. Here’s the miracle. My husband’s vasectomy DID NOT WORK (insert a sly smile). Miracle, anyone?! Yes, please and thank you! He told me his son, whom he gets custody of only one night a week, decided to sleep with him the night of his surgery. This is something his son (then 5 or 6) hadn’t done for months, but that night…..no coincidences, right??  And as his son slept, he thrashed and kicked my husband in parts that should NEVER be kicked.  Miracle delivered in the disguise of a sweet, six year old little boy. Vasectomy undone!

Now, I knew that just because he was physically able to have children once again, didn’t mean he was mentally open to it.  At this point in his life, he was learning about spirituality and was on board with me doing my Intuitive and Reiki Work on him.  After grousing around for weeks (or was it months?) that he was going to have another vasectomy, he bashfully said to me, “Maybe you’re right. There are no coincidences, so maybe my vasectomy not working is telling me something.” Gee, do you THINK?!!   He is a hard nut to crack, I’m telling you! Stubborn German.  😉

But our journey towards having a baby isn’t over yet.  Stay tuned for tomorrow’s blog: ‘Miracle.’   😉