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Quote of the Week
"If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way" ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.
I Am Not An Addict, Just an Acronym of One – by Roxie
My son, Lenny, has been out of juvenile placement now for almost three
months, and will be graduating from high school May 29th. The other day, he
nonchalantly asked me, “Did you ever think I would be out this long without
getting into trouble?” The question caught me off guard. I answered, “Are you
kidding? You’ve really surprised me, and are doing a great job!” In my heart of
hearts, I hardly expected Lenny to be having a conversation with me without calling
a caring counselor or the local D.A.R.E. police officer. The officer became a
friend of our family years ago when Lenny’s drug exploits began.
Even though Lenny is forever faithful in attending the Narcotics
Anonymous 12-step meetings, he cannot get past Step One: We admitted that we
were powerless over our addiction, that our lives had become unmanageable.
Let me break down what Step One means in Lenny’s language. “I ain’t got
no addiction, except to the lifestyle and the mirror. I’m a good-lookin’
guy and am not an addict. I can control it. I can use alcohol when I get legal.
I’m only staying clean right now because of probation, and I’ll be off in June.
I’ll be able to drink beer during the football game like everyone else. It
ain’t no big thing, cuz! It’ll be ahhh-ite.”
Lenny’s thinking errors regarding his addiction, or lack thereof, has not
changed for several years. Although he is clean and sober, he reminds me of a
precious vase; gentle, fragile, and will shatter if handled too frequently. I
deliberately overlook the little things, lest Lenny break. I experience mental
anguish in knowing that hundreds of counseling hours have been poured into an
impressionable vessel that appears to be flawed; Narcotics Anonymous 12-Step
knowledge oozing out of cracks and crevices that were not visible to Roxie’s
untrained eye.
With involvement in a parent group and solid advice from D&A experts,
I’ve learned to see right through Lenny without my rose-colored glasses; adding
a pretty-as-pinkish glow to an otherwise colorless situation. If he does not
admit and accept his complex disease of addiction, the consequences are more
institutions, numerous stints in jail, or even death. It is devastating to hear
Lenny state, “I am not an addict” when his genetic predisposition could cause
him to be an ideal candidate for a German-Jewish European descent /
African-American / American Indian alcohol component recessive gene-pattern
study based on physiology, not environment!
I long to change Lenny’s thinking, but can’t. For my own sanity, I have
created an acronym to help me, and perhaps other parents, accept our children’s
denial that they are not addicts:
Although Drug
Dependent, I’m Clean Today.
For now, using the acronym makes it easier for me to accept Lenny’s disease
of addiction by putting a positive spin on an otherwise negative word.
My Lenny, I will modestly maintain, is an addict.
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Celebration:
Regardless of how many mistakes your child has made (& continues to make), it's important to recognize and celebrate the successes!
Thanks:
A simple thank you can really brighten someone’s day! If someone has provided you with exemplary
service, you might want to consider an old-fashioned thank you note, as Wilma
did below.
This
is a letter I sent to the Director of the youth half-way house where my son,
Bam Bam, lived from October 2012 to April 2013.
I have used pseudonyms for all parties.
He was the first resident to successfully complete the program since
June 2012!!
My son, Bam Bam Flintstone, recently, SUCCESSFULLY, completed the program
at Bedrock’s Youth house. This was an amazing accomplishment for Bam. During
his stay he had many struggles and there were times I wasn't sure if he was
going to make it.
His therapist was Penny Proud.
Penny is a wonderful, knowledgeable therapist, and her no-nonsense
approach, compassion and warmth were instrumental to Bam’s success. I got to know Penny as we had many family
therapy sessions. She was always
available whenever I had questions and concerns. I liked and appreciated her
directness when discussing the various issues we explored in our sessions and
she was always respectful and compassionate.
I could also see that she and Bam had good rapport. He was comfortable approaching Penny whenever
he felt he needed to discuss something and I am so grateful for that.
My husband, Fred, and I were present at Bam's quartz stone
ceremony. Penny spoke and we were very
moved with her kind and encouraging words.
We also were impressed and touched with the comments each boy made to
Bam as they went around the circle. We
discovered that the kind and loving boy that we had seen very little of in the
last three years was still inside Bam. And
we are thankful to Penny for being instrumental in bringing him back. He still has work to do. However, with Penny's help he has tools and techniques
to help him with this next stage of his journey.
Penny is a valuable asset to your team and our family has been fortunate
to have the opportunity to work with her.
Thank you.
Wilma Flintstone
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SPECIAL COMMENT:
"Wow did this letter bring back painful memories...almost 6 years ago that I wrote this....Lloyd you posted it on Mothers Day and I can remember spending a mothers day with you at Schumann and you talking to my son and drug testing him. Then you gave me a mothers day gift...some free drug tests for at home. Which we did use and now all these years later I am happy to say my son came over on mothers day with a beautiful card and mulched our entire yard in the cold and rain/hail. I know it wouldn't be like this if not for all your,Kathies' and PSST help. For that I am truly grateful! Never give up or lose HOPE... Debby
May 14, 2013 at 8:43:00 PM EST"
This letter was read to one of our Juvenile Court Judges recently by a PSST mother. We also borrowed this scenario at a PSST meeting for a courtroom role-play. Much thanks to the brave parents who granted permission for this letter to be posted. Both parents were present and gave testimony at the hearing.
Apparently, the hearing took quite a while for the Judge to sort out and the teenager's Public Defender argued for a less restrictive disposition. However, the Judge in the case ordered inpatient treatment and he directly confronted the teenager about the seriousness of his drug problem. Below is the actual letter. Only the teenager's name has been changed and the name of a drug treatment program has been deleted.
YOUR HONOR, TODAY I SPEAK AS A CONCERNED LOVING PARENT, NOT A DRUG AND ALCOHOL PROFESSIONAL. AS I PERCEIVE THE SITUATION THERE ARE TWO JARRED’S IN THIS COURTROOM-THE JARRED BEFORE DRUGS AND THE JARRED THAT HAS BECOME A CHRONIC MARIJUANA USER.
THE JARRED BEFORE DRUGS WAS AN A-B STUDENT, PLAYED SPORTS, WAS TRUSTWORTHY, INTERACTED WITH OUR FAMILY AND MADE US LAUGH. ONCE THE CHEMICAL TOOK HOLD OF JARRED-WE SEE A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT CHILD. ONE WHO BEGINS TO FAIL SCHOOL, ONE WHO REQUIRES APPROXIMATELY 45 MINUTES TO BE AWAKENED IN THE MORNING THAT LEADS TO JARRED YELLING AND SCREAMING, KICKING AND FIGHTING WITH US. WE NOW RECEIVE NUMEROUS PHONE CALLS AND LETTERS FROM THE SCHOOL INFORMING US THAT JARRED’S GRADES ARE FALLING AND EVEN THOUGH HE IS IN SCHOOL HE IS CONSTANTLY LATE FOR HIS FIRST PERIOD CLASS. HE IS ALSO SLEEPING IN CLASS AND BEING REQUIRED TO ATTEND MULTIPLE BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION PROGRAMS AND IN- SCHOOL DETENTIONS AND SUSPENSIONS. HE DOESN’T PLAY ANY SPORTS AND REALLY SHOWS NO INTEREST IN ANY ACTIVITIES. HE VERBALLY ABUSES US, LIES TO US AND STEALS FROM US. HE CERTAINLY WANTS ALMOST NO INTERACTION WITH OUR FAMILY. WE ARE SO SAD NOW AND TRY TO HELP HIM WITH 2 OUTPATIENT PROGRAMS, 2 INPATIENT PROGRAMS, 4 DRUG AND ALCOHOL THERAPISTS, A PSYCHIATRIST, AN ICM AND CACTIS.
DESPITE ALL THAT WE ENDED UP HERE!
WE DO NOT FEEL JARRED IS A CRIMINAL OR A BAD KID. HE HAS JUST MADE SOME POOR CHOICES AND NEEDS SOME DIRECTION TO THE RIGHT PATH. WHATEVER IS DECIDED TODAY IS OUT OF OUR HANDS. I WOULD JUST LIKE TO MENTION THAT WE DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE SENDING JARRED TO THE [name of facillity deleted] INPATIENT FACILITY, SINCE THE LAST TIME HE WAS THERE HE ENDED UP IN THE HOSPITAL DUE TO GETTING POSSESSION OF A RAZOR BLADE AND TRYING TO TATTOO HIS UPPER ARM-WE FEEL THAT THE SUPERVISION WAS INADEQUATE.
WE MISS THE OLD JARRED AND WOULD LOVE TO HAVE HIM BACK, BUT THROUGH THIS CRAZY JOURNEY WITH HIM WE UNDERSTAND THAT THE ULTIMATE CHOICE IS UP TO HIM-NO MATTER WHAT IS DECIDED TODAY.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!
Originally Posted by:Lloyd Woodward -- Friday, September 07, 2007 (note: I just realized that there are more comments to this post from another point in the blog where we reran it. Click here to see those comments and another letter to the judge from a PSST parent.)
(Courtroom drawing by student artist and mock trial attorney Hunter Wallraff, Pacific Collegiate -it does not appear to be copywright protected.)
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 In 2007, I was a
proud mom watching my twins, Lena and Lenny, win their state’s Bible Quiz
Championship. Obtaining that winning spot resulted in them participating on the
national level in Missouri. One of the highlights of the Bible Quiz trip was
their visit to the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede and Rodeo in Branson, MO. Little
Lenny watched in amazement while the clowns distracted the angry bulls, and
cowboys held the reins for dear life.
Six years later in
2013, Roxie’s Rodeo featuring Lightning Lenny would be the weekly attraction in
my own home. The bang-up rodeo recently
began when Lenny’s teacher contacted the sheriff dude, Lenny’s Probation
Officer, explaining that he was not on task or completing the schoolwork
assigned. The message was relayed to me, and I assured the PO that I would go
through the mill in order to fix the situation. Surprisingly, Lenny threatened
to go to juvenile jail before apologizing to the teacher, or even turning in
the homework. My vivid imagination flashed to where the jig was up. I imagined
Lenny played out, shackled, handcuffed in an orange jumpsuit with brown plastic
sandals and gray socks in jail.
From 10:30pm until 11pm, I begged, demanded, pleaded, and gave up the gun for Lenny to:
1. Apologize to the teacher
2. Give her the completed homework assignment
3. Shut his bazoo
He was adamant about heading to jail before following any of the three requests above. Lenny didn’t mind being in a heap of trouble, and went to bed with me unable to break his will.
The next morning, while he conducted his usual routine in getting ready for school, I again urged him not to shoot his mouth off to the teacher. Five minutes before leaving the house, Lenny exclaimed, “I’ve changed my mind, mom. It’s not worth the consequences so I’ll talk to the teacher and turn in my paper today. See you later.” He shut the door and caught the school bus.
Feeling like I was over my head in rising manure-infested water, I fetched the sheriff dude for advice. “You needed to take the bull by the horns, and you did. You took a stand, did not budge, and he finally came around to seeing things more sensibly,” he encouragingly stated. As a limp-wristed mom, I felt empowered that I strong-armed Lenny to see things my way. He actually listened like a horse with an unbridled bit in his mouth. As parents, we need to get back in the saddle each time our unruly buck tries to keep us from riding. Remember that you have the power and control the reins.
Before Lenny moves to another feeding trough, I will nurture, care for, and attempt to break him into a prize-winning stallion that a young filly would be proud of. It is one of Roxie’s goals before her life is over, and she is eventually put out to pasture.
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 THANKS!! I want to thank Roxie for bringing the balloons to
opening day at our new meeting location. I would also like to thank Jim and Cheryl for finding our new meeting place and setting it up. It was great seeing you today (and everyone else who attended)!!
After the meeting several of us released Roxie's balloons to symbolically release our obsession with our child's addiction.
For me personally, it reinforced my resolve to NOT check out a store where Bam had spent a large sum of money since his discharge from 1/2 way house to 3/4 way house. My dear friend Jane had advised me NOT to go and I had resolved not to go, BUT being in the area I was starting to relapse thinking MAYBE I should check it out anyway. However, afterwards I stuck to my resolve and did not go.
And in a larger sense, since Bam transferred to the 3/4 way house I have found myself falling back into helicopter mode. He was making poor spending decisions, had problems with work and medication. I was checking on what he was spending money on and within days he had spent about $800 on a new phone, cologne, jewelry, e-cigs, food, loans, etc.
Then he didn't have the money to cover his rent check. When he asked me to help him out, saying it could be his birthday gift, I said NO and have stuck to that. I guess he figured it out. I don't think he was happy about it but he is still working and trying to get extra hours, has applied for two new jobs, has interviewed with one place and has another one scheduled. He says he got the money back from the loans - maybe, but I am not making myself nuts (not today anyway) trying to find out.
I was making myself sick. When I wake up in the morning, even though he doesn't live here, I am sick to my stomach worried about what the day might bring. I resolved this week to STOP, he has to be accountable for his decisions and I have to step back. Trust me it's hard but I am trying. Releasing that balloon is making me accountable!
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 We've moved!
Begining This Saturday April 20, the 3rd PSST Saturday meeting of each month will be held at Saints Simon and Jude Church, located at 1607 Greentree Road, Pittsburgh, PA 15220. The meeting begins at 9 a.m. in the School building. Look for PSST signs to guide you.
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 Switching Addictions with Lascivious Lenny – by Roxie
Lenny’s twin
sister, Lena, hears him talk openly at home about his sexual exploits or lack
thereof. “He’s only a regular teenage boy,” she remarked. I began to
contemplate on whether she was right. Yet, my heart says she is incorrect. I am
afraid that Lenny’s addictive personality is taking him in a new direction.
While
searching for information regarding his drug addiction, I discovered a 2010
letter written by world-renowned Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, the 1972 founder
of Gateway Rehabilitation Center. “I doubt that there has been any time in
our history that there has been as grave a threat to the morality of our people
and to the stability of the (Jewish) family as the plague of addiction to
internet pornography. If it were possible to restrict access to the internet,
this would be ideal. Unfortunately, this cannot be achieved and we must deal
with the reality.” For the full
letter, please visit www.guardyoureyes.org.
That’s my Lenny, spot-on. A week before he was released from placement back to our home on February 27th, Lenny nonchalantly told me “I’m switching my addiction from drugs to sex. I’ll be sober, and that’s what you want. I’m going to need condoms so if you don’t buy them, you know what can happen, don’t you?”He was holding me responsible for his safe sex practices. He has condoms in his room next to a red lighter, but Roxie did not buy either. Apparently, he is having sex and smoking cigarettes out of my view. Irrefutably, I am not a smoking voyeur since it irritates my eyes immensely.
Since Lenny has returned home, I have caught him twice in three weeks on pornography websites because he forgot to delete the computer history. I don’t consider it normal teenage activity like Lena. I believe it is part of an OCD / addiction / impulse-control disorder that can take over his life like drugs. These days, folks can die from sex. No joke.
Lenny having sex, with or without protection, evokes the same ‘butterflies in the stomach’feeling for me, as if he was using drugs or alcohol. He told me the truth, but it was a different kind of truth. I am able to deal with substance abuse, but not his sexuality.
I have become a co-dependent mom by lying to lasses for my Lenny. “He’s busy,” I stated on the phone as he suggested. I knew emphatically that he was with two other ladies on an outing. I stunned myself at the willingness to engage in double-dealing deceitfulness, for I thought I had healed over his past suicide attempt over a romantic breakup two years ago. That is why I lied for Lenny.
I remember the crisis so vividly. Lenny’s girlfriend dropped him like a bad habit after he cheated on her. Crying and distraught, he grabbed a butcher knife and sat in the broken living room chair, sticking the inside of his left wrist until blood began to slowly come to the skin surface. My brown rug absorbed his globulin like a vampire in ecstasy. I was terrified to get close to him; for fear that the skimming of the knife would turn to sawing of an artery. The ambulance took him away to a psychiatric hospital for observation. He was diagnosed with ADHD, not sexual addiction.
If Lenny is willing to take his life over sex, then it is a manipulative, sexual addiction. The scheming suicide attempt helped me to be dishonest for his future sexcapades. I did not want him to die, so I will lie to his sweetie pie.
He asked me,“Would you rather me get high or have sex?” I didn’t answer. Honestly, I’d like him to have a daily dose of saltpeter with Concerta chased with vitamin-fortified spring water.
If I was back in counseling at his placement agency, I would be told that I am experiencing thinking errors that need to be stopped immediately. I cannot continue to enable or cover up for Lenny’s sexual indiscretions. This teaching moment, based on a heart- wrenching suicide attempt, is for Roxie to learn from and begin change.
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Lenny’s
Role in Recovery Play Leaves Roxie Profoundly Hopeful – by Roxie
One-and-a-half years
ago, Lenny robbed a woman, knocking her to the ground to steal money from her
purse for drugs. On Saturday, March 30th, Lenny was in a play
portraying a young man who kicked and robbed a helpless, drunken man, mocking
him while he stole drug money. The compelling irony brought tears to my eyes,
and gently touched my healing heart. Lenny was no longer in bondage to his addiction;
he was in a play entitled, “Redeemed!”
While Lenny was in placement, the boys from the agency became involved in a Life Recovery play at South Hills Assembly. Although he was released from placement a month ago, he continued to practice at the church with the boys he used to live with.
After an hour of music by The Good News Blues Band, comprised of men with 30+ years of sobriety, the lights were lowered and the play began.
Out stumbled a drunkard, blindly staggering into unknown surroundings. A group of boys, including Lenny, came out with black t-shirts on with labels printed on the back such as Hopeless, Depressed, Insane, Self-centered, and other names that describe the human spirit in its dejected state. Paradoxically, Lenny t-shirt was labeled Hopeless.
While the drunkard was being beat and robbed, a man with Grace printed on the back of his t-shirt covered his body as protection. Hopeless, Depressed, Insane, and Self-centered attempted to get to the drunkard again, but Grace served as armor against them. During this part of the play, the song lyrics were heard stating “Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks yours.”
Those with the t-shirts turned around, and each label was ripped from their backs, allowing them to be clean outside and within. The message was loud and clear for redemption through recovery with Christ in one’s life.
Lenny’s probation officer had an even more poignant idea for the play. He suggested that when the t-shirts were taken off, the boys would have additional t-shirts underneath entitled “Urges”. The impulses and strong desirous actions of the boys could eventually lead to the t-shirts entitled Hopeless, Depressed, Insane, and Self-centered. Consequently, addiction is a disease comprised of numerous layers in which recovery occurs after reaching various inner stratums.
I am very proud of Lenny and the boys from the placement agency. Their performance in public is a true sign that recovery is searing their mind-set. I have wondered how Lenny felt re-living the robbing incident in the play. I didn’t ask him; for I am quite satisfied that he is finally showing signs of being “Redeemed!”
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 I
want to share a short story my daughter Kitt wrote for her high school Literature class. The assignment was to
write a short story based on the book The
Catcher In The Rye. The guidelines were that the story could be fictional
or as real as you like. The only criteria was that it must be written in the
voice of the character Holden. Kitt's story is very real, and provides a
glimpse into how siblings are affected when one of them is a drug addict. Many of the posts on this blog are written by
parents, but I think you might find this
post written by a 17 year old insightful.
I
redacted and gave pseudo-names to keep things anonymous. Many of you know my story,
and some have met Kitt and my family. Kitt and I both agree that Herman provides great inspiration for writing
material. Who knows? Maybe a book is in the making.
Jessica
My Goddarn Screw Up
Brother
I don't remember much, but Toontown used to be such a vibrant place. I would walk down the narrow roads looking in all the store windows. Such gorgeous streets and gorgeous windows. They were decorated with twinkling lights and flowers that you could smell without sticking your face in them. The fall was the best time to roam around. They had this jazz festival that added the perfect touch of velvetiness to the crisp air. I swear, you could hear those guitars no matter where you were in town. I didn’t mind it that much. It was sorta relaxing. Listening to the solid bass keep time for the guitars as they improvised. These guys just did whatever felt right at that moment. They did what they wanted and stole the show while the bassist kept to the same old beat. I would hear people say, "Wow, that guy can really play" and I always knew it was about the guitarist. Never the bassist. That always bothered me. He was the one that kept everythingtogether anyway.
It wasn’t until 2004 that things started to go downhill for the town. Hurricane Ivan grabbed it by its neck and shook it to the point that the town is now unrecognizable. The flood destroyed all the potential greatness Toontown had in one night. My dad had a newly remodeled dental office down there. New walls, new floors, new everything. Ivan barged in and decimated the office. Ivan didn't play favorites, he knocked down all thriving businesses and families. Toontown is now a ghost town infested with drug dealers. Those goddarn drug dealers.
Herman lives there now. I find that funny. I don't know why, but it is. We drive down there sometimes and drive past his apartment. It's a dainty, three-story building with red bricks and white windowpanes. His apartment has a window that faces the street. I like it. Right before you reach his place you have to drive down this long road. I wouldn't mind it, but there isn't much to see. Just broken down houses and old businesses filled with people just trying to get by in their lives. As we approach his building, my mom always says, "I wonder if we can see Herman through the window." I don't get why she thinks he'll be there. He never stands by the window. Ever. If he does, it's to water his already dead plant. That bothers me. That he keeps the plant, that is. It's such an eye sore. I don’t know why he doesn't just buy a new one, but I guess I'll never understand. The thing is that's what makes Herman so frustrating. His reasons behind his actions never make sense. Probably not even to himself. He just does what he pleases and doesn’t give a darn about anyone else. He wasn't always like that. I remember when I was little I use to think he was the coolest person ever. God, you should have known him. He killed me. His mannerisms would make about anyone smile and laugh. He was a chubby, brown hair, red Kool-aid mustache kid. You'd liked him. We would play this game. We called it "Rescue Babies". My sister and I were probably four years-old, making my younger brother about three and Herman six. I would sit on a bed with my sister and brother and we would be hugging each other singing "Kumbaya". We pretend the bed was our wrecked ship. Herman would be laying underneath the bed, swimming in the made up ocean. The game was always the same. We would be singing, Herman shakes the bed, and we would scream. Herman would grab one of us and drag up into the "water". The order was always the same, too. First Katt, then Rick. I would be stranded on the bed alone. It probably doesn't sound all that fun, but it was for us. Herman was the ringleader of all the best games. God, I wish you knew him. He was the one of the funniest kids you would ever meet. Teachers would always say he was never a student, but they still liked him anyway. That Herman is gone now, though. I'm not quite sure where he went, but I doubt he would be coming back anytime soon.
Anyway, it's Sunday, so I know what to expect for the day. "Kitt, Herman is coming over. Help me clean up a little," my mom says. I don't exactly mind helping. I like cleaning. If you want to know the truth, I just don't understand why we have to clean for him. He doesn't want to be here. Well, he does, but for the wrong reasons. I don’t blame my mom for wanting a clean house. It's good to have at least something nice while he's here. It wasn't long until we could hear his bass blasting from his 2002 Buick. He looks pretty stupid in that car, if you asked me. Take this typical old person car and imagine seeing a nineteen year-old blaring rap from it. It just doesn't look right. I watch him as he pulls into the driveway and opens his door. As he steps out, I can see a few bottles roll out and on to the ground. I don't want to know what was in the bottles and I don't care. He walks to the door with his electric cigarette hanging out of his mouth and rings the doorbell as if that's what he's suppose to do. The only people who stayed downstairs for him were me, my parents, and my dog who won't stop barking. She usually only barks at strangers. She usually does it to protect us. The funny thing is that she knows Herman. She used to love him so much we would say Herman was her boyfriend. Recently, though, she's been acting like an angry ex- that is still bitter about the break up. Nonstop yelling.
"You look good, Herman" my mom said. We all know though that he doesn't, but it's the only thing to say to a person like Herman without fearing the response. He walks into the livingroom as if he still owns the place and turns on the TV. Next thing I know, he turns to me
"Turn the Wii on. I want to watch Netflix." I turn to him and he coyly says,"Please." I could have smacked him right then. I was watching my favorite show.
"Sure. What are we watching?" (I really want to throw this Wii remote square in his eye.)
"I want to watch Jackass. My friend said I remind him of one of the guys." He laughed. His laugh just makes me angry. Not because it's annoying, but because it's the pot head laugh. A mixture of a monotone "huh" and the typical "ha". If you ever have the displeasure of talking to a pot head, you'll know what I mean. Herman's friends have that laugh, too. They're all such phonies. None of them even like each other.
"Kitt, give me the remote!" I didn't realized I was still holding it. I tossed it over, but I missed. I was shaking too much. I pick it up and hand it to him. "Here." I avoided eye contact with him the best I could. I knew if I looked that I would risk seeing them red and glassy. I don’t think I could handle that. We watch Jackass and I can hear my parents in the kitchen.
"Roger, do you think he's high right now?"
"I don't know. Maybe hung-over."
"Go check," my mom, her neck begins to become beat red. I feel bad for her. I know she's worked up and there is nothing I can do to make it better. Her own son turned into her worst nightmare right before her eyes. That drives me darn near crazy. I think of what I would do if I ever had a son like him. Makes me darn near crazy. I know my mom did everything possible to help him and has given him so many chances, yet he still refuses to follow any type of rule. I just want him to leave. I would take the honor of kicking him out of this house myself. I keep picturing me grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. I would say, "What are you doing with your life? Just look what you have done." But I know I wouldn’t have the guts to do it. So I just sit here, teeth clenched and palms sweaty. I look over at Herman and he's asleep. I watch him and imagine how peaceful he would look in his coffin. It's a depressing to picture, but I know if he continues what he's doing, I'll need to be prepared.
I guess wasn't really paying attention for awhile because I heard yelling. It was Herman. I don't want to hear it, but I know I have to stay. I have to. "Herman, please calm down. It was just a simple question," my mom said. "This wasn't meant to be an argument."
"F" you, guys," Herman snaps as he stands up. That hit me right in the gut. I know it wasn't directed towards me, but it still stings. I couldn't help but feel hurt. I wanted to say something, but my father stepped in for me. "Herman. Sit down. Now. Don't you ever speak to anyone, especially your mother, like that."
"You guys effing suck." I hate when he says that. "I'm glad I'm out of here. I can't wait until I develop Alzheimer's. I don't wanna remember any of you." Does he even realize how ridiculous he sounds? Next thing I know, the door slams. He left and I can breathe again.
I stand in the living room by myself. He has to realize what he does to us. His siblings no longer want to spend time with him. He has to know they're all starting to hate him in the order of our "Rescue Babies" game. First Katt, then Rick. Not me though. I don't think I hate him. I hate what he does and what he will do, but not him. Sometimes, before I go to bed, I pray that he gets arrested. Maybe he needs to hit rock bottom. But I guess the thing is, he hit bottom awhile ago. I thought that would change him. But he is still continues down the same path. I could feel the tears starting to cloud up my eyes. I try to wipe them away, but I felt someone grab my hand. "It's okay, Kitt. We'll be okay."
Living with and addict is like being in quick sand. If you ever been stuck in an end-less cycle like this, you'll know what I mean.
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Submitted by Kathie T
(original internet source unknown)
There are two types of people in
the world: those who choose to be happy, and those
who choose to be unhappy. Contrary to
popular belief, happiness doesn't come
from fame, fortune, other people, or material possessions. Rather, it comes from
within. The richest person in the world could be miserable while a
homeless person could be right outside, walking around with a spring in every
step. Happy people are happy because they make themselves happy. They maintain a
positive outlook on life and remain at peace with themselves.
The question is: how do they do
that?
It's quite simple. Happy people have good
habits that enhance their lives. They do things differently. Ask any happy
person, and they will tell you that they:
1. Don't
hold grudges
Happy people understand that
it's better to forgive
and forget than to let their negative feelings crowd out their positive
feelings. Holding a grudge has a lot of detrimental effects on your wellbeing,
including increased depression, anxiety, and stress. Why let anyone who has
wronged you have power over you? If you let go of all your grudges, you'll gain a clear conscience
and enough energy to enjoy the good things in life.
2. Treat
everyone with kindness
Did you know that it has been
scientifically proven that being kind makes you happier? Every time you perform
a selfless act, your brain produces serotonin, a hormone that eases tension and
lifts your spirits. Not only that, but treating people with love, dignity, and
respect also allows you to build stronger relationships.
3. See problems as challenges
The word "problem" is never part of a happy
person's vocabulary. A
problem is viewed as a drawback, a struggle, or an unstable situation while a
challenge is viewed as something positive like an opportunity, a task, or a
dare. Whenever you face an obstacle, try looking at it as a challenge.
4.
Express gratitude for what they already have
There's a popular saying that goes
something like this: "The happiest people don't have the best of
everything; they just make the best of everything they have." You will have a deeper
sense of contentment if you count your blessings instead of yearning for what
you don't have.
5. Dream
big
People who get into the habit of
dreaming big are more likely to accomplish their goals than those who don't. If you dare to dream big,
your mind will put itself in a focused and positive state.
6. Don't
sweat the small stuff
Happy people ask themselves,
"Will this problem
matter a year from now?" They understand that
life's too short to get
worked up over trivial situations. Letting things roll off your back will
definitely put you at ease to enjoy the more important things in life.
7. Speak
well of others
Being nice feels better than
being mean. As fun as gossiping is, it usually leaves you feeling guilty and
resentful. Saying nice things about other people encourages you to think
positive, non-judgmental thoughts.
8. Never
make excuses
Benjamin Franklin once said,
"He that is good for
making excuses is seldom good for anything else." Happy people don't make excuses or blame
others for their own failures in life. Instead, they own up to their mistakes
and, by doing so, they proactively try to change for the better.
9. Get
absorbed into the present
Happy people don't dwell on the past or worry
about the future. They savor the present. They let themselves get immersed in
whatever they're doing
at the moment. Stop and smell the roses.
10. Wake
up at the same time every morning
Have you noticed that a lot of
successful people tend to be early risers? Waking up at the same time every
morning stabilizes your circadian rhythm, increases productivity, and puts you
in a calm and centered state.
11. Avoid social
comparison
Everyone works at his own pace,
so why compare yourself to others? If you think you're better than someone else,
you gain an unhealthy sense of superiority. If you think someone else is better
than you, you end up feeling bad about yourself. You'll be happier if you focus
on your own progress and praise others on theirs.
12.
Choose friends wisely
Misery loves company. That's why it's important to surround
yourself with optimistic people who will encourage you to achieve your goals.
The more positive energy you have around you, the better you will feel about
yourself.
13. Never seek approval from
others
Happy people don't care what others think of
them. They follow their own hearts without letting naysayers discourage them.
They understand that it's impossible to please
everyone. Listen to what people have to say, but never seek anyone's approval but your
own.
14. Take
the time to listen
Talk less; listen more.
Listening keeps your mind open to others' wisdoms and outlooks on the
world. The more intensely you listen, the quieter your mind gets, and the more
content you feel.
15.
Nurture social relationships
A lonely person is a miserable
person. Happy people understand how important it is to have strong, healthy
relationships. Always take the time to see and talk to your family, friends, or
significant other.
16.
Meditate
Meditating silences your mind
and helps you find inner peace. You don't have to be a zen master to
pull it off. Happy people know how to silence their minds anywhere and anytime
they need to calm their nerves.
17. Eat
well
Junk food makes you sluggish,
and it's difficult to
be happy when you're
in that kind of state. Everything you eat directly affects your body's ability to produce
hormones, which will dictate your moods, energy, and mental focus. Be sure to
eat foods that will keep your mind and body in good shape.
18.
Exercise
Studies have shown that exercise
raises happiness levels just as much as Zoloft does. Exercising also boosts your
Self Improvement and gives you a higher sense of self-accomplishment.
19. Live
minimally
Happy people rarely keep clutter
around the house because they know that extra belongings weigh them down and
make them feel overwhelmed and stressed out. Some studies have concluded that
Europeans are a lot happier than Americans are, which is interesting because
they live in smaller homes, drive simpler cars, and own fewer items.
20. Tell
the truth
Lying stresses you out, corrodes
your Self Improvement, and makes you unlikeable. The truth will set you free.
Being honest improves your mental health and builds others' trust in you. Always be
truthful, and never apologize for it.
21.
Establish personal control
Happy people have the ability to
choose their own destinies. They don't let others tell them how
they should live their lives. Being in complete control of one's own life brings positive
feelings and a great sense of self-worth.
22.
Accept what cannot be changed
Once you accept the fact that
life is not fair, you'll be more at peace with
yourself. Instead of obsessing over how unfair life is, just focus on what you
can control and change it for the better.
Read More......
Family Fun
Posted by:Jenn--Monday, April 01, 2013
Looking
for ways to have more fun with your family?
 Here
are some ideas...
1) Plan an adventure together- having a
game plan for fun ensures special excursions and activities don't get put off
for 'someday'.
2) Turn your home into a fun zone - making
room for games, creativity and plain old hanging out can make a house a home.
3) Celebrate the little things - look
for excuses to add a dose of happiness to otherwise ordinary weeks.
4) Narrow the gap between playing and
learning - make time for curiosity and exploration.
5) Fill their lives with sweet surprises- kids
thrive on routines, but it's often the unexpected joys that they truly
treasure.
6) Find the silver lining- use a
look-on-the-bright-side mind frame to banish disappointment and turn it into
delight.
7) Make work and chores
feel like play - tackle household chores
with a party spirit-- If it's gotta get done, let's make it fun!
Read More......
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