Twelve Steps, One at a Time

Inconsistency

2010-10-24T10:56:00.000-04:00

It seems that I have fallen into patterns of inconsistency in areas of my life where I need them the most. Housework has always been something that I did in "fits and starts," though I have always longed for an orderly house, and have deeply appreciated my own home and that of others when the feng shui is working.
The kind of "housekeeping" that is suggested in Step 10 is also an area of inconsistency for me: I struggle so with setting and honoring my own boundaries that I tend to do this step in "fits and starts" as well, resulting in many episodes of clumsiness, where I inadvertently step on toes--even my own.

What I am learning now, as my attendance at meetings has become inconsistent this fall, is that the commitment to attend meetings regularly is as important now, six years into my program, as it was six years ago, when I was just a beginner.

At the risk of over-analyzing, I will stop this post here, and leave it as a stated intention. HP, please hear this and help me keep my focus on this intention.

Disrespect

2010-08-04T22:21:00.000-04:00

I am trying to figure out why I often feel disrespected by my family. The other night, my husband, my daughters (both young adults and both living out on their own) and I were hanging out in the kitchen. It was the first time we had all been together in a month or so and we were doing the usual catching up, reconnecting, and it felt pretty good. My younger daughter was about to embark on a camping/hiking overnight to climb a pretty rugged mountain with a friend. They would be leaving the next day, and I was a little concerned about the thunderstorms that had been forecast. I asked K if she had listened to a weather report, and she said that she hadn't but asked what I had heard, so I told her. I then expressed my concern about the mountain hike and since I hadn't hiked this particular mountain before, but my husband has many times, I asked him what kinds of precautions the rangers took. He explained that when predictions were in any way dangerous, they close the mountain, which reassured me and gave K some good information. I then said that I hoped that she and her friend, whom we have all known since childhood, wouldn't decide to do anything foolish. All of a sudden, I was receiving a lecture from my older daughter about how I shouldn't be such a "downer" and that I always kill people's enthusiasm and I shouldn't worry so much, but should be more encouraging. My husband stood by smiling.

The next day, my older daughter, who, with our baby granddaughter, had spent the night, had a meltdown over the burden of responsibility that is currently falling to her in her young family. I listened and empathized and, when prompted, made an offer of help that felt right to me. Later, and not in her presence, I asked my husband if he and I could talk about what we could and couldn't present as some helpful options. I wanted collaboration, and what I got was a lecture on how I shouldn't offer anything, but should wait until we are asked.

I feel disrespected when I am lectured at in this way, and when, despite anything I say or do, my attempts at communication are responded to with a lecture. I find myself tonight ruminating on the fact that no one else in the family seems to get the same kinds of lectures. And I wonder---what is my part? What is it that I do that provokes this kind of response, particularly from my immediate family? I am reminded of the quotation from Eleanor Roosevelt, "No one can insult you without your permission." Only I have not given my permission. At least I don't think I have. But what have I done? Have I disrespected myself in a way that has given others permission to do the same?

I have some thinking to do about this.

In the meantime . . .

2010-07-24T12:33:00.000-04:00

It has been several months since I last wrote in this journal and, in the meantime, lots has happened. Since December, much of my energy has gone to coping with the aftermath of my mother's death--all of the practical matters fell to me and I did my best to follow through and to take care of my own emotional and physical needs while remaining available and responsive to (not responsible for--thanks to AlAnon) the needs of my loved ones. Grief packed a subtle, but very powerful punch, and I know it will be a while before I have completely recaptured my breath, but I continue to inhale and exhale and there are many moments now when the air is nothing short of exquisitely sweet.

My youngest daughter, about to embark on her senior year in college, has moved to an apartment, so, somewhat unexpectedly, the nest is empty. My older daughter and her daughter, now a toddler, are spending more time with us this summer, however, as her partner is spending more time on the road. Mixed feelings for me about all of this, and in the meantime, I inhale and exhale and treasure the sweet air.

Another school year has passed, fraught with anxiety, pressure, and uncertainty due to politics, budget cuts, and other issues way beyond my scope of even imagined control. For me, this meant beginning the year as part of a new team who was expected become an instantly functioning team (2 of the 3 of us had not taught that grade level in that school before), which of course is not possible, and ending the year not knowing what or where I would be teaching this fall up until the very last minute (though I heard many times from others that I should have been happy that at least I knew I would have a job.) In the meantime, however, I thoroughly enjoyed my students, continued to learn and grow from relations with my peers, and was able to keep perspective on the chaotic situations around me. And when I just lost in in a reactive mode, I generally recovered pretty quickly.

So life goes on, and continues, in my view to be much better than the alternative, and so I am experiencing the ups and downs, the ins and outs, the inhales and exhales with a degree of gratitude and appreciation that I have never known before.
Even the deep grief and panic that has been recently triggered by some uncertainties that I'll write about another time . . . even this is welcome to me now.

And especially welcome is the realization that I no longer want to live the same way I have previously lived "in the meantime." I used to feel lost, almost literally beside myself, unless I knew that I had something, some anchor, either behind or ahead of me. This could take the form of something to look forward to, or something I had done already that I could tell stories about. But unless I had some "big thing" that had happened or was about to happen, I didn't know who I was or what to do. So those times between big things were horrifying to me,
A change has occurred and I just no longer need this. I can't say that I always know who I am or what to do . . . these things seem to flow and change . . . but I can say that most of the time, when I am uncertain and in between things, on some level I am aware that I am ok.
Those big events will happen, whether we try to orchestrate them or not. The in-between times, the meantimes, are not meant to be squandered in worries and fears. The meantimes are what constitute and connect life itself, and every single moment is to be cherished and savored. That is how I now want to live in the meantime.

Entirely is a big word

2009-12-15T05:35:00.000-05:00

This morning, while reading an old volume of "Forum Favorites," I came across this passage in a reflection on Step 6:

We continue in the same roles: giving loud lectures to the children--believing it's for their good; going out of our way to be helpful to friends and co-workers--to satisfy our own egos; demanding too much of ourselves; "managing" a husband or wife--just to avoid trouble.

Well, there I am. The passage goes on:

We progress when we look deeper at ourselves and recognize that the parts we are playing are actually defects which add to our troubles. . . . When we gain this insight we realize how necessary it is to change our responses. . . . We may butt our heads against the stone wall over and over again until we are so uncomfortable, so sick and tired of hurting, that we'll finally cut out the nonsense, recognize the reality of the situation, identify our part in it, and decide once and for all that we don't want those defects that give us so much pain. Then we'll be entirely ready . . ."

And that is where I would like to be . . . entirely ready. But it seems I want to skip over the pain part. I'd like to get to the change without getting sick and tired, and yet, the more I fight my own pain, the more I prolong it. The old "stiff upper lip" business is a sham. And then when I do let go and cry--why does it seem so odd to me that I feel better afterward??
I'd like to make the commitment to myself that today, I will feel my feelings whatever they may be and whenever they occur. And let's see what happens.

Sidestep

2009-12-13T07:13:00.000-05:00

It seems that in the last couple of months, I have taken a giant sidestep off of my recovery path. My mother's sudden, but not unanticipated death in mid-October brought on a lot of immediate "have-tos" and my usual everyday life was tossed aside so that I could attend to what HAD to be done. In the aftermath, it seemed to everyone, including me, that I was coping especially well. For a few weeks, my outlook was pretty sunny, and I returned to the appearance of normal life in due time.

But a couple of weeks ago, the shadows that lay beneath the surface of that bright exterior began to show themselves, and I began to sink into a sad, sorry state that is pretty pervasive at the moment. I am still carrying on: I go to work every day and am generally pretty cheerful with my students; I am getting Christmas preparations accomplished; I see an occasional friend.
This is not enough, however, and I know it. I am not WORKING my program. The word is work and work is sometimes not easy. This is one of those times. WORKING my program requires effort and I am not making that effort at this time.
My attendance at meetings, my reading of literature, my contact with either of my sponsors, my connection with HP, my writing, my applying the steps and principles in my everyday life have been sporadic at best.

A friend who runs marathons once told me that when he gets to the point in his race where he feels like giving up (and he gets to that point EVERY time he runs a great distance) he kicks into thinking thoughts like, "I only have to make it to the next driveway" or "I just have to get to the next telephone pole" and as he thinks in the very short term like this, he soon forgets that he is running this huge distance, and before he know it, his race is complete.

"One day at a time" feels like a marathon to me right now. Right now and in the next few moments is just about all I can handle. So right now, I am getting back to writing. Next, I will do some reading. Who knows, I may even call one of my sponsors today . . .

A sigh, a plea, a prayer . . .

2009-09-12T15:00:00.002-04:00

It seems a long time ago that I last wrote here, though my dashboard tells me it was just two weeks. But for me, two weeks between times that I sit down and write anything is a very long time. I have become an habitual writer, and, though my profession as a teacher calls for me to write regularly, I really miss writing for myself during those rare spans of time when I fail to do it. Today, finally, I am taking time to take a deep breath, allowing myself time to reflect, and giving myself opportunity to do some things that I want to do just because I want to do them.
There is my sigh.

I am beginning to wonder if, as much as I have thought I wanted it, I was ever truly cut out to act in collaboration with other human beings. My husband used to tell me that he lacked communication skills and social skills, and that just because I was good at talking, and I enjoyed socializing, I shouldn't expect him to be the same. OK, I got that. But, for the past few years, I have noticed that it is me, not him, who seems regularly to be in adversarial situations with other people--at work, in the extended family, among friends. Granted, I do DO more socializing than he, and my work requires more extroversion than his, but I am not sure that the difference in volume of activity accounts completely for my relative lack of serenity in my relationships.
My most serene moments occur when I am alone in the natural world. Paddling a kayak on calm waters, swimming in a spring-fed lake, sitting on a beach or walking on a mountain trail with my dog, I am at peace. When I am home alone in an orderly, clean household, I can feel a similar calm. Sometimes I can get to the same place doing yoga, stretching, or strengthening exercises behind a closed bedroom door. In the presence of other people, however, I all but forget that those moments of serenity can exist for me. My boundaries, though far better than ever before, are still so amoeba-like. And when I am in the presence of people whom I feel are demanding of my attention, I can become so unbound, unnerved, and agitated. I wish this weren't so, it is excruciating to experience this disconnect when I truly want to connect with others.
There is my plea.

I got into a verbal tussel with a co-teacher friend last evening before I left school. I was tired and short-tempered with her and I spewed an angry comment. This painful exchange has fueled my doubt about myself in relationships. Though I rarely get angry, disconnected exchanges with others are not unusual in my life. Today it seems to be yet another piece of evidence that I am ill-suited for meaningful connections. I want to make an amends to this woman, and at the same time, I want to be accepting of myself and my emotions, and to be open to the message that my feelings carry for me. So my prayer is for help receiving the message and accepting myself as I am, feelings and all, and for the wisdom to know the proper amends and the courage to carry it out.

Something New

2009-08-30T06:53:00.002-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, I approached a woman who regularly attends my home Al-Anon meeting, and asked her to help me do a thorough and complete 4th step. (Not as in "once and for all," but as in a detailed and systematic inventory.) Though I have a sponsor with whom I connect regularly, for some reason, she and I have never been able to do this.

At about the same time, and it was right around the time that my surgeon told me it was ok for me to drive again, I made a commitment to work the steps to the best of my ability on my own addiction--food--and I connected with a friend in OA. After some discussion, we found that our dangerous times seem to coincide with each other, so we agreed to make daily contact via phone or email between 2 and 5 each day.

These commitments are scary to me, because they involve other people, which means I cannot have even the perception of total control. It also means that I have to trust, or at least act as if I trust (and both of these folks are trustworthy), even during the times that I don't, acknowledging and honoring my boundaries as I go. But I learned a great lesson through the experience of being totally vulnerable during and, to a degree, after surgery: that not only are there good people who are trustworthy, even though they, we, are all humanly flawed, and that allowing the connection between me and those people to develop without my constant attempts to control every aspect of it's construction makes for a stronger, more flexible and therefore more durable bond. And, even better, those connections between me and others and my connection to my higher power feed each other constantly, and, if I will allow them, have the potential to feed me the love and care for which food is only a very poor substitute.

Still here, no fear (I wish)

2009-07-31T16:50:00.003-04:00

On June 26th, to paraphrase my physical therapist, my right hip was dislocated, my leg was partially amputated, a metal rod was jammed into the bone, and a metal and ceramic cup was screwed into my pelvis, then everything was put together, and I was sewed up. In other words, I had a total hip replacement--one of the most common contemporary orthopedic surgeries performed. My surgical team was excellent, the physical therapist at the hospital had me walking later that day, the hospital staff was terrific, a motivating, energetic physical therapist has worked with me for 4 weeks, and, so far, my recuperation has been fantastic. I was walking with a single crutch within a week after surgery, and with a cane a week after that. I am well on my way to walking without support.

For weeks, months before this event, the fear I was experiencing was all but pervasive in my life. And though, as many have said to me, there is nothing wrong with fear, my problem is not that I judge fear as wrong or incorrect (though, in fact, I may do that too!). My problem is that I allow certain fears to get in the way of living my life. I do this, by not just simply cultivating awareness, but by obsessing, and I tend to keep my obsessions inside, where they can fester and grow huge. My biggest fears always seem to revolve around things that I am about to do that I believe will be transformational experiences---and the biggest fear is the unknown life that awaits me on the other side of this experience. With the hip surgery, of course I could not know for sure what the outcome would be, and so I could not envision with certainty the way in which my life would change because of the surgery. I could, and did, imagine all possible outcomes, and then fed my fear by dwelling, at least for a while, on the worst. But what I did differently this time was that I did not let the fears and the related obsessions fester. I did not keep them inside. I wrote a lot, talked to trusted friends, asked relevant questions of the doctor's nurse, connected with other folks who'd had similar surgeries. I didn't try to circumvent my fear, nor did I keep it to myself. I acknowledged it and kept going. I didn't even use it as an excuse to eat. In fact, by "letting it out" in the way that I did, I was able to keep my life in pretty good balance in the face of the fear. And the times when I felt out of balance, I did my best to just accept those times, and know that they would not last forever.
Ahhh, this has truly ptoven to be a transformational experience, in more ways than I could have imagined.

Caretaking and change

2009-06-24T06:55:00.002-04:00

I am coming to realize that I can no longer "take care of" people the way that I have for so long. My mother's circumstances, her need for comprehensive caretaking after her stroke have been the catalyst that has propelled me into this new path. Through attending to her needs in her sometimes dire circumstances, and learning to be respectful of what she can do and chooses to do for herself, I am understanding more and more that some of the things that I have done in the name of caretaking for a variety of others in my life--my children, my spouse, my brother, my friends and coworkers-- curiously NOT my sister or uncle have been more meddlesome than respectful. Even sometimes the things that I am asked to do, and am only to quick to respond, are not truly helpful--to ANYONE! For example, I had the TV on PBS the other day while I was putting away some laundry and Wayne Dyer was talking about his new book about making excuses. I began to think about how often I make excuses for unacceptable behavior of other people, in the name of being "understanding" and how much damage I do when I do that. And I do it to smooth things over, to make them seem ok, to spare the other person's feelings. This is a way that I have thought I was taking care of other people, when, in reality, I am probably enabling the behavior I am excusing. I have to be careful. This, however, is not something that I do with Mom. One thing I do do with Mom is take care of her by denying myself (how this makes sense escapes me, but it is a pattern I have fallen into). And I do this with others too. A lot. So much that I then unconsciously compensate by having unreasonable expectations of other people. How much better life would be if I would just be responsible for me in the ways that I am capable of being and let others be responsible for themselves without my interference. In other, very wise, words, "Live and Let Live." Yeah, got it!

Focus on me

2009-06-06T07:21:00.004-04:00

So a friend mentioned to me the other day that she hadn't heard me talk much about my upcoming surgery and wondered how I was feeling about it. The image of a giant brick wall standing right in front of me immediately arose in my mind as I lamely replied, "OK."
Right.
She prodded a little more: Are you worried?
Hell, yes, I am worried. In fact, I am petrified.
A crashing wave of tears and fears tore a giant hole in the wall.
And the flood of feelings about this major event in my life has ebbed and flowed ever since.

It seems that I have been in such denial about my own status, and so overfocused on the needs (or my perception of the needs) of my aging mother, my new-mother daughter, my father-in-law, my students, and just about anyone else in my life, that I have been utterly neglecting myself. Again, or still, it doesn't really matter I guess.

Old habits die hard, especially in the face of adversity. It is so much easier for me to focus on other people's issues, and to ignore my own. Keeping the focus on myself requires conscious effort and not a small amount of vigilance.

So here goes: On June 26th, I will have a total hip replacement. I have never had any kind of procedure like this; the only times I have been in a hospital were when my children were born and once for an overnight stay due to anemia. So major surgery that requires months of physical therapy is terrifying in every aspect for me. I am afraid of the anesthesia, the surgery itself, the uncertain outcome, the pain, the loss of my original body part, the demands of rehab, the temporary and permanent limitations in my activities. These are all relatively minor fears, though, compared to the three biggies:

1) That I will die.
2) That I will live, but "fail" in rehab and my life will be dramatically altered for the worse.
3) That I will be dependent, that the circumstances of my life will be wholly out of my control.

While rationally, I know that the first two are possible but very unlikely, the third is a certainty, at least for a time, to varying degrees (while under the knife, NOTHING is up to me!), and, for this reason, it is this gigantic and horrendous fear that put the vast majority of bricks in my wall.

Which brings me back to Step One. This morning, I find myself ready to turn this fear over, and to accept this dependency, scary as it is, and remember that my life is, in some ways, wholly out of my control on a day-to-day basis, and yet I continue to live.

Step 1 Reading

2009-05-02T07:14:00.002-04:00

Last Saturday, at my regular Al-Anon meeting, one of the paragraphs that we read from How Al-Anon Works stated:

Whether or not we live with active drinking, life is unmanageable whever we lost perspective about what is and is not our responsibility.

By that standard, my life, as far back as I can remember, has been unmanageable, and I have never lived with active drinking!! I have, however, lived, always, with active "isms" of one kind or another. The loss of perspective on my own responsibility is my primary "ism." I am so afraid of what will happen when others neglect their responsibilities that I try to take on theirs and then end up neglecting my own. This doesn't work out very well for anyone.

The paragraph goes on:

We take offense at actions that have nothing to do with us. Or we intervene where it is inappropriate and neglect our legitimate obligations to ourselves and others.

There it is, my behavior, just as I admitted to it in the paragraph above. And more:

Our misplaced concern for others becomes intrusive, meddling, resented, and doomed to failure. Instead of helping those we care about, we demonstrate a lack of respect for them and create discord in our relationships.

My first thought as I read this part was, who, me? Meddling? Intrusive? But I only do these things because I care! What do you mean "lack of respect?" I am a caring, well-meaning person, who only wants the best for those I love, and I DO respect them. And yet there is discord in my relationships.

Hmmmm . . . . so I have read and re-read this paragraph. And I have thought about the many times my children, now adults, and SO honest and open, have said to me, "Mom, I KNOW how to do that. I can take care of it!" And I have wondered how often another person, my husband, my brother, a friend, may have thought this in relation to my "help" but not said it aloud. Where have I shown these folks, or not, the respect that comes with trusting that they can and will take care of themselves?

And then I looked at how, in an effort to overcome this character flaw in myself, I sometimes step out of a situation where I really DO need to speak my piece, don't say anything, and then end up feeling sad, angry, resentful too. (Ah yes, that old black and white thinking--the grey areas getcha every time.)
So then the question becomes: Is it important? If I can't do anything about it, is it important to me to speak my piece? And if I decide that it IS important, I need to ask: Is it helpful? If so, to whom is it helpful?
Today I am thinking that if I can remember (HP, please help out here!) to ask these questions, then maybe, just maybe, I'll receive the guidance I need to remove that discord and restore some serenity in my relationships.

All that from one short paragraph in a reading on the first step. What a rich program and how grateful I am for it.

Who me? Addicted to something?

2009-04-19T17:39:00.004-04:00

So this is what I have done this week in regard to my feelings about my brother:

Read lots of Al-Anon materials on the 3rd step and on detachment.
Invoked the 3rd Step prayer--my version of it- -every day.
Attended meetings.
Talked, listened, written about the issue.
(All of the above have been relatively easy to do)

In addition, I have:
Not asked him when he will get certain things done.
When he has called or emailed saying that he would do certain things at a certain time, I have not responded, except to say "OK."
When I have seen no evidence that he has accomplished what he has said he would do, I have not called him on it.
When my thinking has started to run in the direction of "He never does what he says he will do . . ." I have mentally turned down the volume.
Not attempted to find a way to take control of his responsibilities.
Neither put him on the hook nor let him off the hook.
Not delivered lectures to or pointed fingers at him.

This second group of things has been VERY difficult for me, as they represent changes in my behavior. As I went through the week, each time I needed to communicate with him, I did my best to monitor MY side of the communication so as to minimize my reactions to him. For example, early in the week, I got an email from him, in which he detailed several things he intended to do on Mom's behalf during the coming week, telling me by which day it would be done. As I read it, I could hear myself thinking, "Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it" and I could feel my anxiety rising. So I quieted my mind and, instead of taking issue with him, I didn't respond.
Another day, I received a package that he told me he had sent via overnight mail about 5 days previously. When I got it, I saw that he had addressed it to the wrong zip-code. When I emailed him to let him know it had arrived, I did not point out the zip code error.
Yet another day, I wanted to send him an email about some things I had put in the mail to him, and I wrote at least a dozen versions of my email, using the delete button what seemed like hundreds of times before I got down to just the information with NO editorializing.

There are many more instances of these kinds behaviors toward him that I worked hard to notice and then change this week, which brings me to a realization: these behaviors that I am working so hard to notice and change are habits that feed an addiction of my own, I think. Maybe MY addiction here is to the "high" that I get from the dissatisfaction and disappointment in him that then leads to me proving, in a twisted way, that I am more responsible, more organized, more attentive, more whatever, than he.
The fact that, in order to make these changes this week, I practically had to muster everything I've got physically and mentally, and also keep the door wide open to the emotional and spiritual support of the Al-Anon 12 step program is a pretty strong indicator that I am the one with my particular problem here. No doubt, he has his problems too, and I have been miserably pointing them out to him in one way or another. Now, however, I am looking more toward myself, and seeing that, though I can't change his actions, I can change my own, and that my changes can make a difference for me.

Away

2009-04-18T16:44:00.000-04:00

So this week, I went to an Al Anon meeting that I haven't attended for a long time--my home meeting is on another day--and, as so often happens, I heard many things that I needed to hear.
One of the pages that was read said that until we practice Step Three, detachment is more like constructing a wall of protection from fear and threat of harm. This, of course, is a pretty accurate characterization of my version of detachment from people with whom I have problematic relationships. As my conscious connection with Step Three has impoved this week, I have noticed that I am more able let go without worrying about the outcome of whatever I am letting go of.

I am away in Vermont for a few days. It is nice to have a change of scene, to see my daughter, and to have some much-needed time to introvert.

Stuck at Step 3

2009-04-16T06:23:00.000-04:00

I am working hard to detach from my resentments over what my brother has and has not done in regard to the care of our mother's practical matters. The long and short of it is that he is her legal and financial Power of Attorney and is not, in my opinion, stepping up to the plate.
I have been reacting to my perceptions of this for a long time with anger, disappointment over his failure to follow through on his stated intentions, sadness as I witness her further losses, and futile attempts to control the situation. I have literally become sick over all of it.
So it is time for me to stop.
I turn to the 4th step and try to look at my part, and then I realize that I have not taken the 3rd step as fully and completely as I might. This is holding me up, and I believe it has held me up before. So today and every day until I am fully ready, I am doing my best, through prayer, writing, meetings, readings, to make conscious contact. I want to really make that decision to turn this over--and this is huge--to that Power greater than my self.

In need of a meeting

2009-04-04T07:58:00.000-04:00

After 4 years in Al-Anon, I finally know what people mean when they say, "I knew I needed to get to a meeting." This morning, I absolutely recognize that need in me. As I sit typing this, and drinking my first cup of coffee, I observe the ways in which my life has felt unmanageable over the last few days: my reaction to my brother's intent to delay the engagement of the attorney, and then my reaction to his subsequent explanation for this; my interaction with my problematic co-worker; the feeling of being overwhelmed by all of the things, housework, schoolwork, self-care that I am neglecting, it seems, on an ongoing basis;the pain in my legs and back and the anxiety over the upcoming cure (surgery); the guilt over what I am not doing for Mom--visiting her every day, or following up with nursing or rehab staff every day.

Step 2 states that we "Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity."

For me, sometimes, a meeting IS that power. Other times, it is the manifestation of that power. Whichever it is, doesn't matter. When my life has reached this level of chaos, I need to get to a meeting. It is there that I am most likely to reconnect with that power, and begin moving my feet along the path of the next few steps again. Today, I will go to a meeting.

April 3

2009-04-03T15:40:00.000-04:00

A co-worker rushes into my room and up to my desk 3 minutes before our lunch break, her lunch bag in her hand and hurriedly interrupts my phone conversation to query, "Where are you having lunch? I have to talk to you!" Flustered, I try to respond, but truthfully, I haven't given lunch a thought yet. "I don't know. What's up?" "I just want to know where you are going to be. We need to talk." I hang up the phone and take a deep breath . . ."Are you asking to meet with me at lunch to discuss something? Can you tell me what it is?" By this time, I have ended my phone call. "I just want to know where you'll be . . ." she says.
I take her at her word. "I don't know yet," I finally state. "Check back with me."
In my stomach, I feel the twinge of anxiety. I have been set up, caught off guard, and now whatever this woman has to talk to me about, I am already on the defensive.

My brother and I meet with an attorney we are considering enlisting to help us manage the affairs of our elderly mother. The attorney spends a great deal of time and care going over the details of Mom's lives and ours, and explaining the process she will use to create a plan for our family. I leave her office overcome with relief; the strife these issues have caused in our family has been all but unbearable for me since Mom's sudden illness 15 months ago. I want this person on our team and the fees she will charge us are, to me, well worth the peace of mind they will purchase. Things will be done in a knowledgeable, professional, and timely manner, and I will not have to be the one to nag or bug anyone to do his or her part. The attorney will take care of all of it. My brother, who holds the legal and financial Power of Attorney, assures me that he agrees.
And yet, when I express to him my opinion that we should go forward and hire her, he sends a curt email back stating that he wants to "wait a few days" before doing anything. This sends me into a tailspin, as I recall the many times over the past year and 3 months that he has said he would take care of something "tomorrow" or "early next week" and it has taken months of me nagging before anything has gotten done.
I go from thinking my prayers have been answered to certainty that nothing will change because I am powerless to change it, and my misery and anxiety will continue indefinitely and things that need doing will continue to be neglected.

These kinds of scenarios seem to plague me lately. I am just plodding along, doing the best I can to take care of myself, and someone, usually in their own human imperfect attempt to care for him or herself, crashes through some protective mechanism I have devised and I fall into a state of spiritual and emotional disrepair.
I am knocked back continually to Step One. I admit that I am powerless and my life has become unmanageable.
I am looking for my part in this. I am looking for what I can do differently. In am in my comfort zone when I can find that thing and try it. I am totally out of my comfort zone when, as it appears in these situations, there is nothing i can do. My co-worker will catch me off guard, regardless of what I do; my brother will procastinate, and I can't do a damn thing about it. I guess maybe my part is that I am still trying to change them, and I need to stop. What would happen if I acted as if I expect my brother to procrastinate? What would I do differently? Might I say to myself, or even to him: Take a couple of days to think about this. On Monday, take action. When my co-worker comes at me with some untimely urgent need, what if I just listened, then said, "I'll get back to you." Some aspects of responding in these ways feel disingenuous to me, but so what. They are alternatives to what I have been doing, reacting, and that clearly is not working for me.
Or, maybe better yet, what if I just took a deep breath and moved to Step 2 and believed that I power greater than myself could restore me to sanity? Whoo-hoo, now there's a thought!