Home
Life initiates some of us in an instant. The loss comes out of the blue. A relationship ends. A loved one dies. Someone we thought would be in our life forever goes away. Or the doctor tells us we’re going away. Other losses unfold slowly. Eating disorders, alcoholism, addiction — even Alzheimer’s disease — can hide in plain sight for years.
No matter what you face, you’re not alone although you may feel alienated from the world. Whatever your loss, other people have gone through it too. On the other hand, you’re unique and different. While others not in grief go forward full speed, your personal velocity changes. Full speed? Ha! You’re barely crawling through Life. It’s all you can do to get out of bed.
Welcome to the Club
You belong to an elite group, although you joined it involuntarily. From declaring bankruptcy to losing a child, whether the world ranks your loss big, medium, or small, and even if the loss happened to someone you care about but don’t know how to help — this site is for you. We moved to a new facility (template), one easier to navigate. During the process, I freshened content, adding new information and editing articles damaged by the move.
You can stay on the outside, using only public content. If you want access to the Members Only section, put away your wallet. You already paid a steep enough price. I lifted the requirements for registration about providing us with a valid telephone number and emergency contact. Registration became easy and non-threatening. There are no dues, fees, hidden costs, or agendas. All that’s required for membership is your commitment to not physically harm yourself or anyone else, and your agreement to hold this site harmless for your actions.
E-mails from us won’t ask you to buy products. Occasionally I send spontaneous E-mails to site members. People report they enjoy hearing from me this way. It’s not a newsletter. It’s like the E-mails I send to friends. If you prefer not to receive any communication from me, contact me at Melody@MelodyBeattie.com, explain that on the E-mail, or post a comment at the end of this article telling me that and I’ll cross your name off the mailing list.
The public section of this site offers stories, many anonymous, telling the raw truth about different losses. After decades of marriage to a good husband and provider, one woman finds herself living with a spouse who suffers from the effects of a series of strokes. She cares for an adult youngster instead of enjoying life with a brilliant man and equal partner — her husband. How does she live with this?
A man discovers his adopted son abuses alcohol and drugs. The father, a recovering alcoholic, now watches his son take the same destructive path that the Father took. This man also became the target for his son’s misdirected anger, hatred, and rage. His son doesn’t really hate his father; his son hates himself. What’s stopping this parent from packing his bags and leaving the hellish prison his home turned into?
After his girlfriend ends their relationship, another man discovers a gift she left him — genital Herpes. Will he ever have sex or find love again?
After years of suffering abuse at her father’s hands, a woman learns she didn’t cause her dad’s behavior. He suffers from the genetic disorder Huntington’s Disease, one of the worst diseases that exist. Now she needs to get tested to see if she inherited the gene. If she did, she’ll get the disease and everything that comes with it. How does she deal with her potential destiny? Can she muster the courage to get tested? Living the rest of her life knowing she has Huntington’s will destroy any happy moments she might have left.
The public section of this site offers these stories and others, and information about grief and subjects related to it. I added content to most articles to give you something to hold when you feel like you’re free-falling in a black hole.
You’ll find current resources for problem-solving whether you need money, counseling, shelter, or for almost any need. Our easy-to-read Privacy Policies, Disclaimers, and Code of Conduct discuss the rules for you, me, and this site to abide by.
I posted the introduction to the book The Grief Club: the Secret to Getting through All Kinds of Change and the Master List of Losses checklist from it on the public side, with Hazelden’s permission. I’ll post the other chapters (except Chapter 2) in the Members Only section. Chapter 2 covers Alzheimer’s’ Disease. Because of Alzheimer’s pandemic nature, I posted the chapter about it on the public side to make it available to a greater number of people.
The publisher allows posting of only one chapter at a time of the book, and prohibits any downloading, except for the checklist. They also prohibit reading archived chapters. By agreeing to these conditions, you can read The Grief Club for free.
While there’s much for the public, there’s more for members. We don’t allow solicitors or harassment. We’ll keep this site safe. People who come here have been through enough. They’re vulnerable. They need protection — not people trying to profit from their loss.
We do have a small gift store open for your convenience. It offers a select group of products related to grief. If you need a gift for someone, you can choose from one of our many floral affiliates. We also have affiliates who carry beautiful gift baskets, books related to grief, journals, scrapbooks, music, and movie CDs. If certain books, songs, or movies helped you, please share that information with us.
My favorite products are the hand-made Comfort Quilts. My sister-in-law, Pam, makes them from the jeans of a lost loved one. For the other materials, she uses colors and fabrics of your choosing from fabrics she knows last and work. Finally, for people who refuse to use a cane, the Gift Shop offers Diamond Willow Walking Sticks. The finishing touches to this unique wood are also done by Pam with the same care she puts into everything she makes. I link to a small website I made for her so you can meet her and my brother, Jimmy.
Workshops and classes will take place in the chat rooms inside. We welcome anyone willing to abide by our code of conduct to attend. But I need you to tell me what you want to learn. Most classes will either be free or have a nominal charge. This site’s goal is to heal, not produce income.
You can connect to my other website from here, Help Yourself at www.MelodyBeattie.com — an umbrella site; a new site going up this week about my new release, the miracle book. This site, at www.MelodyBeattie.org also has information about codependency — a subject closely connected to grief.
Please ask question, make comments, take part in forums, tell your story (over and over if you need to – obsession is a necessary stage of grief and allowed here). We invite friends of people in grief to take part in everything we offer. Read the articles for grieving people and articles with information that specifically applies to you, such as what not to say and how to be a supportive friend.
Over time, you’ll learn new techniques, including how to gain control over overwhelming pain. You have the power to take a break from emotions when the grief becomes too much. We respect each person’s process here. We won’t tell you how to grieve or that you’re doing it wrong or not quickly enough. This is a place where people in pain can honestly and openly be who they are. You’ll meet people experiencing loss like yours, and who don’t have to tell you they understand because you know they do.
Whether you’re going through a rite of passage such as empty nest syndrome, ending a relationship, or feel horrified by the effects of aging, you’re in the right place. We’re happy to tackle controversial subjects too, such as taking pain medication for quality of life and ability to function if you’re living with intractable pain. We’ll bring you the most well-informed and caring experts in each field as guest authors, speakers, resources, and links. If it concerns grief, you’ll find something about it here. If you don’t find it, ask and the information will soon appear.
For too long, grieving people have been the ignored majority. Society likes to pretend people in pain don’t exist or even worse, accuses them of feeling sorry for themselves or blames them for bringing their loss upon themselves . That won’t happen here. It’s time for people not living in the happily ever after to have a say and a place to say it. Check us out. This might be the place that helps heal your heart.
We make no guarantees other than no solicitations. We don’t do professional or pop therapy. But you’ll find the oldest healing elixir in the world here — Unconditional Love. Come in, try it on. See if it fits. Whether you’re new to the grief process or you’ve walked down that road for a while, the most important thing missing from this site is you.
Great news for GC members. We have restored the ability to have friends and send private messages within the site. Check all of the new features now available under the “member forums” tab.
Forums and Login – this tab contains all of the member forums as well as the space to register or log in to your account
My Account – this tab has all of your account information and is the place where you can change your password, add a bio, make status updates, and upload a profile picture
My Profile – shows your profile
My Friends – this page is a list of all of your friends on the site
My Mailbox – all of your private messages are here – click on the compose a new message to send a new PM, or click on an existing message to reply
My Wall – a “Facebook” style wall where you can see the status updates of all of your friends
Member Directory – this is a list of all of the site members so that you can find and add your friends. You can also add friends from inside the forum by clicking on a posters profile and then clicking “add Friend” under their profile picture.
Friend requests – this page shows people who have requested that you be there friend
We are very excited about all the new social features and hope they will be useful to you.
Melody, I just read your message, for June 6, 2013, and I certainly have and still have the same thoughts, about forgiving oneself and living with regret and pain from the past. I try each and everyday, and struggle, with all of this. I feel as though I can’t shake off the feeling of, woulda, coulda, shoulda, thinking and it’s like a continuous, “albatross,” around my neck and dragging me into the depths of remorse and sadness. Most days are manageable and consistent with everyday routine, yet some days I just want to be left alone and brood over every misfortune that’s happened to me! Each day I wonder, “if” this will be the day for my release from self imprisonment of my soul….will I finally have paid my dues and be set free?? Lots of questions and little answers!? Your messages each and everyday, at least for me , continues to give hope where there have been none, and comfort to know I’m not the only one going through these daily struggles….thank you, Melody, Namaste, Jan
Hi Jan. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the steps of AA and other twelve-step programs, but after doing my first fourth and fifth — where I listed my shortcomings and wrongdoings, then getting ready to let go of them (6 and 7), and then making amends, I found myself walking around carrying my list of shortcomings, dwelling on it, unable to let go of guilt embedded in me, for years. It’s a heavy, heavy load. I wish you speed and lightness in releasing yours. Anyway, someone in the program old me that the purpose of listing those we needed to make amends to wasn’t to feel guilty about it, but to release the guilt. I’ve also learned that guilt is a stage of grief not talked much about. In most cases, the guilt isn’t real, but it certainly feels that way. It can be extremely difficult to take a neutral approach to these guilt feelings. But, as with any other emotions, the best way through is “feel and release.” (I just got stuck in the “release” part.) It is an art, a behavior, that can be learned though. I also learned (about myself) that feeling guilty, like a “bad child” was ingrained in me from my childhood. I consistently felt as if I were “disobeying the rules” — even as an adult, when I wasn’t. Someone raised a Born Again Fundamentalist once described it as, “Guilt, the gift that keeps on giving.” If I were to suggest anything at all, it would be to make some written goals, and make “letting go of my guilt” one of them, possibly number one. Just a thought — as writing down goals and then letting go of them and moving forward with life, has been a key recovery tool. Best, Melody
Hi Melancholy, I am glad what I shared about my grandson brought a smile for you. He is a smile in my heart.. As far as the way I feel about my mother… I was holding the phone with white knuckles trying to decide which window to through it through….. something I have done before.. thrown phones that is. With the phone in one hand and a hammer in my other hand I once went outside and beat a phone it into a few zillion pieces, then left it in a pile on the front door step with a note on top addressed to my ex-husband that said you will never lie to me on THIS phone again. My history with phones has been interesting…. I am 57 and there were many years I had no contact with my mother. I can be around her now because she can’t get up and I can leave. That either of my brothers or myself have anything to do with her, while our sister who is mentally ill doesn’t is baffling. She is elderly and sick and I think it is something like what Melody shared when she discovered her mother starving and living in filth. I took a 3 month FMLA a year ago April due to the circumstances of my mothers living conditions and health heading towards what Melody shared about those she found with her mother. I would take my mother to Drs appts during this time and she would tell nurses or Drs I was her mother now. Except that I was in the mother role by 11 yrs old, to her and my siblings so it wasn’t news to me and it wasn’t news period. Melody also said something that speaks to the dysfunction of different family dynamics in general, paraphrased which was, in some families the members head for the hills while other families stay around and torture one another. I think what we do once we leave home is often about the dynamics with which a family has always operated. I have wished for my mothers demise, especially as a child, but do not feel guilt at this stage in my life that my feeling this is true. My siblings and I were indoctrinated to stick together because you can’t trust the ‘outside’ world. And I believe it is also encoded in our DNA, Melody spoke to this also, that in as much as it is up to us to eventually make peace with who and what we came from. This in no way suggests we allow people to continue to abuse us in word or deed ever. And making peace within ones self is a deeply personal journey. I have never thought; Mom gets a pass on terrorizing her children, I did think why was she allowed to ever be born, why was she allowed to bring 4 innocent human beings into her personal living hell. And Melancholy on this end of life with adult children and grandchildren one is able and it is a gift, to see the human drama of life on earth through different eyes. Not with eyes or a heart that says oh that was no big deal and it’s all worked out okay in the end… it really was a trail of tears that led me to the sacred ground I find myself standing on today. And every tear attached to everything that caused it speaks to and about the story of my life. Just as yours and everyone else’s is about their unique life story. I have no way of knowing this for certain but I imagine that the reason I can be fully present with my grandchildren as I wasn’t with my own children, is because my heart is open to accepting, doesn’t mean it agrees or always likes it, that life is a mystery. Not to be solved or researched until I can understand it, because I tend to live in my head (I found it was safer there), but to be walked out literally one step at a time. I never know what the days I spend with my grandson will hold. I may have a generalized plan for the day, but I let the day unfold, and ask my grandson do you want to? and at 3 he simply and honestly says yes or no. He finds entertainment or interest in things like seeing the teeth on my hair clip as being ‘sharks teeth’, imagination is where 3 years old live, so gadgets and expensive toys, trips to amusement parks or the like are nothing more than a blip on his radar screen. What he does thoroughly enjoy is my undivided attention.. watch me… whys that happen ( I just love that he says this)… with the awareness that I am a mirror that is giving him an explanation of some of what he is finding in this great big world he is in the process of discovering. What then, might we wonder or ask our self was our experience at the same age. Frankly I have no recollection nor would I want to if I could. I had a very limited gallery of memories before the age of 12 and asked my counselor if this was normal because I had heard enough people talk about childhood memories to wonder how this was possible… thinking they were only repeating what they had been told. She calmly told me it was true and possible and thus began a time where indeed memories did surface into my awareness. I feel it is very important to say that I was in a safe environment when this happened. I had safe friends, support groups I attended, an Al-Anon sponsor, and for the 5 years I worked with this counselor I had no contact with my mother. I was married at the time and my husband was gone both mentally and physically pursuing his dreams of financial gain in a business and though his being absence was the rule I learned to see this with the insight of a sponsor as a gift. Which it was. Anyway I too have gone on quite a bit here, but again and I have no problem lovingly saying it how ever many times it takes…. your pain your experience and your story are your own Melancholy for which you never have to feel guilty for, especially in terms of thinking someone else has something worse. This is how and why Melody set up this site as I have ‘heard’ her say to myself and others here. I felt so very sad hearing that you had no one at your graduation… in my mind I began planning a graduation party for you… it was unthinkable that you had no one there… and I am so sorry that this was your experience BECAUSE the acknowledgement and celebration of all your hard work and accomplishments ( to begin with) was what YOU DESERVED. I have had versions of similar situations with my mother and I it was hurtful and crushing. I grieved all that I wished she could have been and I wanted her to be for a very long time. The very fine author Victoria Segunda has written a number of insightful and in my experience helpful books about mothers and mothers and daughters. If you haven’t already read anything from her, you may want to peruse her offerings on this topic and see if something strikes a chord with you. You are doing the very hard work of integrating unthinkable life losses Melancholy… be gentle with yourself as much as you can dear one. I love how Melody spoke of the dirty dozen here… personally I’m proud to be a part of such a group with consideration of the other 11. Some people crawl through broken glass and walk on fire to lay claim to their life, no small feat, and when they have done so, I believe there is a depth of gratitude, appreciation and sense of deepest awareness for the gifts we find in life. Some would say big deal to a 3 year old’s imagination and excitement over snails and hair clips, but to me it is priceless to be able to see the extraordinary in the ordinary through his eyes. Children are to be SEEN and HEARD and LOVED is what everything in my heart and spirit tell me. In one sense the words that created so much grief inside of me have needed to be spoken out of me. And in the meantime while the cavern and cesspool of grief is being shoveled out, it is good to know that there are those who wish to bring gifts of hope encouragement solace grace and beauty to take it’s place. We aren’t the variety needing to be bubble wrapped here, in our own versions and ways we have soldiered on just as you are and have. You are welcome here just as you are, in all your brilliance, compassion and dark days alike. I spoke with my brother in jail about what you mentioned and as is the case with our penal system what we see as one charge becomes 3 in their system. He was aware of what you shared with me but the one charge snowed balled into others which is why people can end up so much time, my head could blow up while trying to comprehend the lack of logic involved, but is a done deal now. Thank you for asking and investigating the facts as you did. Thank you for being here and all that being you brings. Take Good Care. Hugs, Denise
As usual, I enjoy reading your posts/comments. I especially enjoy the story about you “beating’ the phone and telling your ex that it would be the last time he lied to you — on that phone again. Creative way of setting a boundary and acknowledging your limits. Point made! I also came to a realization recently. In my life, I’ve had one birthday party — my daughter threw a surprise party for me when I turned 40 (which my mother then ruined by throwing a screaming, wench-like martyr fit). But it meant so much to me (not my mother’s fit – the party). Even as a child my life was not celebrated by even small birthday parties. Now — at my age — I’d just as soon ignore the way the years fly by. But it’s really sad when our lives aren’t acknowledged and celebrated by birthday parties. I remember reading somewhere that this is both a sign of abuse and big contributor to lack of self-esteem (not having your birthday celebrated). I may need to add it to the loss list, if it’s not already there. Amazing how small events like that (or the lack of them, creating ambiguous or unclear losses) can have such a penetrating effect on our esteem. Somehow, throwing a birthday party for myself just never occurred to me, or was something I wanted to do. Now, I can celebrate and honor my life in different ways — mostly by doing that which I love, being honest with others about who I am (and honest with myself). Just wanted to share this insight — not looking for any sympathy; just a share. Melody Beattie
I think looking for sympathy is the last thing those who did not experience empathy from parental figures look for, my two cents worth. One of the things my counselor told me (she very straight forward with me, I needed her to be and she got this), was that it was important not be sympathetic because it could be felt as smothering for those who had been taking care of them self since.. well.. the beginning of their lives. This elicited an I- need- to- run- response from me. Acknowledgement, information and empathy were what helped me. When she shared about something that happened in her life that I could relate to.. she became relate-able. I am in someways getting off topic here but it goes along with what this has brought up for me. I worked with an older woman who thought she was the Good Fairy God Mother. How this came across was You poor dear… poor little thing.. as she gave me cards or gifts I in no way wanted or that even made any sense with who I am, and spoke in a condescending tone of voice that inferred she knew more about me than I did about myself, when she in fact didn’t know shit from shinola ( my brothers saying) not taking her inventory, my opinion, and the way all who dealt with her experienced her also. A Do- Gooder… again in my opinion…. in the late acute stages of her own untreated raging codependence. I am grateful for the picture this painted in my mind. There is so much to be gained by all those we cross paths with. I thought often; This could have been you Denise, God Bless her and but for the Grace of God go I. I didn’t want nor could barely stand my birthdays to be acknowledged until my 40th was. Birthdays were acknowledged in my childhood but it didn’t feel good, it felt more like months leading up to …You better be good or else…. took the joy out of it… choking down cake that didn’t feel worth the price I paid to ‘deserve’ it. If our parents do not celebrate our presence what kind of message is this? I most often wished to be invisible and found ways to be… now I decide to be visible or not. You made a very good point about self esteem.. a word I feel has been so over used, that I’m not sure people often understand what it’s true definition is. Parents or care givers are the mirrors of how we are or not esteemed. There are bubble wrapped children today that are spoon fed ‘self esteem’ except it is a poor imitation that I do not see serving them well in the real world. Of course I am speaking to the extremes now. Those who came up in environments of severe dysfunction grew up feeling they should be invisible… so no wonder the self destructive coping mechanisms. The pendulum swings to both ends it seems before it can rest in the middle. Hopefully Recovery is moving towards this place. I think it is. Getting the information out there is the first step.. my life is unmanageable.. acknowledging why it is… The 12 Steps are truly Amazing in the life wisdom they impart. The way I see things now is… I will have cake or what ever and celebrate those victory’s in my life as they happen. My birthday is for me a reason these days to say whew… made through another year and Thank you God for giving me 356 more days to learn to love both myself and others. I took a Life skills class and learned that it takes 4 positives to neutrealize one negative in the mind of a child. No wonder Recovery work is so challenging but so very worth it. Surrounding myself with truth tellers and encouragers has been vital. This site is filled with both:) Thank\ you Melody.
PS the back slash wasn’t supposed to be there in the thank you, a typo
Over the years, I’ve learned that there are three types of counselors: totally incompetent; those who disempower their clients by making the client, or person, dependent on the counselor for all decisions (narcissism); and counselors who strive to empower and validate others — people who strive to empower and validate others. I have strived to be the third kind, because it (being treated that way) is what has always helped me the most. It’s a “do unto others” thing. Thanks for your informative post. Best, Melody
And you are the third kind. The golden rule is still as golden as ever:) Thank you, Denise
And you too, treat people with compassion, validation, and in an empowering way. As I’ve said before (and will likely say again), you add a lot to this site. Best, Melody
Hi, Denise. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries…we didn’t celebrate any of them when I was a child. It didn’t bother me much, really. I didn’t know any differently; you can’t miss what you never knew. Birthdays, in particular, I dreaded every year, even though they weren’t acknowledged by my family. I hated being older. I’ve never felt young in my life — I remember at my high school graduation, all of my peers were so filled with joy, laughter, and celebration, while I felt nothing but devastation that my entire youth had come to a crushing halt. Now, at 30, I view 18 as being so very young — still a kid, even. I’m sure, in 10 more years, I’ll feel strange about how old I think I am right now (not that I *feel* old at all). The irony is that strangers invariably mistake me for a high school or college student because I look a decade younger than I am–not that I am complaining. Anyway, I’m going off on a tangent here. Celebrations were another part of the whirlwind I faced when I plunged face-first, so vulnerably, into adulthood. I had no foundation for all these beloved traditions that people had; everything just seemed so foreign and overwhelming. I hated it at first — the chaos of normalcy. But I’ve evolved a lot since then. Things are so different now, and I cherish the opportunities to celebrate with the people who mean the most to me. Luckily, these opportunities have not been few and far between, and for that I am truly grateful. Thanks for sharing your beautiful, moving words. I’m glad that you, too, have reasons and opportunities to celebrate.
Denise, your posts are always so poignant and beautiful. And you are so sweet and loving. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, truly. Thank you so much for sharing your journey, in both its rawest and most joyful moments — and for the unbelievable compassion you’ve expressed. It means more than you know. Your story about beating a phone until it was crushed into pieces is intense and deeply symbolic. I’ve never lashed out like that on something external; I’ve always “lashed inward” (if that makes any sense). Anger or distress directed toward other people, other things, invariably manifests itself in self-violence. It’s just the only way I’ve ever learned to cope, and it’s so deeply ingrained that I’m not sure the habit will ever break. Like you, I have a limited collection of childhood memories; I’m sure many of the more traumatic ones have been repressed, and that’s partially why I’m so terrified of therapy — for fear that I’ll be assailed by a tempestuous flood of repressed, painful memories, a flood that consumes me, drowns me, and I’m not strong enough to fight the current. I’m always nervous when people bring up their first memories. Usually, they’re quite fond. A lullaby. A kiss from a parent. Building a sandcastle at the beach. My first memory? Being locked in a dark closet, smaller than a cell in a maximum-security prison, for hours in a row. It seemed an eternity. I was three, maybe four years old. I don’t remember why I was confined to that closet, what crime I had committed that was so deserving of such punishment, but the experience of being suffocated by that darkness, the paralysis of movement in that tiny, enclosed shell, is vivid in my mind to this day. I’m so terribly sorry that you had to endure a childhood that seems parallel to mine in many ways. I wouldn’t wish these experiences on anyone — not even my own mother, in all her monstrosity. But, as Melody has said many times of her own experiences, I don’t regret a single one of them. They’ve helped to shape the person that I am today — and, in general, I’m okay with that person. That person is caring and empathic (or, at least, tries to be). That person is honest and genuine. Not trying to be self-aggrandizing here; sorry if it comes off that way. Anyway, I’m glad you have the gift of your grandson to bring so much light to your life. He sounds like such a joy. As for me? Yes, I’ve posted before about betrayal, about feeling empty and alone — but, in truth, I really am surrounded by some wonderful, loving friends. Sometimes, in my darkest moments, it’s just hard to see that. PS. You’re sweet to mentally plan a graduation party for me. I actually did have one; it was just with the family I chose (friends), rather than family I inherited. My chosen family (members old and new) also planned a surprise birthday party for me a few months ago when I turned 30. As I, too, had never had my birthday celebrated (nor even acknowledged…ever) as a child, it really did mean the world to me.
Hi Melancholy. My fear for you with getting therapy is finding the right therapist, someone who really knows what he/she is doing and helps, not harms, you. After Shane died — before I understood that shame and guilt is part of loss and in the majority of instances, not legitimate — I went to a therapist seeking help. All she wanted to talk about was the book she was working on, and would I consider writing an introduction or forward. When I first began this journey consciously and got sober, I was told that (as others were) our problem was “not trusting people.” But our world has changed so much that the problem for many now is trusting people. So few deserve it. But I believe the key is learning to trust ourselves, because that’s where our consciousness of who we can trust lies. However, life and people change. Someone we can trust one day may encounter an incident that changes them; they may go from trustworthy to untrustworthy (or the other way around). That’s why learning the art of being present for each moment (Eckhart Tolle, in his book on tape, “A New Heaven and Earth” — and I probably got the title wrong and I’m not going to stop and search for the correct one but it’s close enough to identify it — as well as his book, “The Power of Now” really helped me learn the art of being in each moment, being with each person I’m with (if I want to be there), and releasing that which I unnecessarily drag around. I was put off by his titles at first, but I find his work monumentally helpful. Again, though, we’re each different and need different people, different information, different therapeutic techniques at different times. I have enough faith in life though to believe that we will get what we need — eventually. Best, Melody
Hi, Melody. Thanks for your concern. Trust issues? Yep — check. I’ve been through so much that I’m guarded — always. I don’t know if I’ll ever have a normal relationship because the mere speculation of letting someone in enough to love me throws me into a panic. And I have no idea how I’d open myself to a therapist, even one who is genuinely qualified. But I do need to seek some something to help me crawl out of this debilitating, soul-crushing depression. It’s not sustainable; I can’t survive this way. I have a close friend in her mid-fifties who calls me her adopted daughter (and she really does nurture me as though I am). She’s remarried now, but many years ago (before I knew her), she was in therapy to recover from a nasty divorce. She’s trusted that therapist with some of her darkest secrets, and — although it took a while — I trust her as a friend and confidant, so we’re scheduling a first appointment — together — just to see where it leads. I don’t have much therapy experience, aside from an introductory visit here and there that I ultimately decided had no value to me. Not sure what to expect this time, as I’m at a different age and place in my life. Thanks for the book recommendations; I’d not heard of Eckhart Tolle. They seem very spiritually based, though, and I’m not sure how they’d fit into my world view. So many recovery plans, so many self-help programs, seem to cling to this notion of a higher power — a notion that I respect, because it helps so many people cope, but a notion with which, as an atheist (sorry), I just can’t connect. I want to believe that there’s something great and incorporeal out there, but I can’t force it. It’s just who I am. But it makes recovery infinitely more difficult.
I’m not advising against counseling, Melancholy, but I am encouraging you — and others — to trust themselves. If the counsel doesn’t feel right, then we need to trust ourselves. Re Eckhart Tolle, I don’t remember his books “word for word” — but I don’t believe (if memory serves me correctly) that he brings up the God issue. I don’t think he even uses the word in his writing — and I don’t think he discusses spirituality. He talks about (and helped train me in) the art of living in the present moment. While I love AA and it’s slogans (one day at a time), I find that it’s easy for people to live their whole lives “today” waiting for “tomorrow” to come — which isn’t the point, at least I don’t think it is. Learning to be completely present for each moment, each feeling, each person, each incident — that’s an art. And it’s one that Tolle’s books really helped me get a hold on. Mostly, I want to encourage you to trust yourself, Melancholy. This site isn’t about making decisions for others; it’s about getting support and validation in making decisions for ourselves. Again, I say, how could any of us know what’s best for another when most of us struggle with “What’s right for me?” Which is where the whole narcissism issue comes in. I believe it takes someone truly suffering from narcissism, at a deep and pathological level, to believe we “know what’s right and best for others.” I grew up with a mother who was “always right.” The price I paid for accepting love was being absolutely controlled. On guard? You bet I am. Still. I also, though, believe in the sheer power of being vulnerable, of surrendering to who we are, how we feel, what we want and like — and what we don’t want and like. The juggling of all these different behaviors — many of which appear contradictory — appears overwhelming at first. But for me, by gradually learning (starting with becoming aware of) and then practicing these behaviors (i.e., letting go), I got better — and continue to — over the years, although some people still “hook me in.” I have to back off, examine what’s going on, re-evaluate, and choose a course of action. You are young, and to be facing so openly these issues at a young age is commendable. Many on this site spent decades (I know I did), learning these behaviors. Some of these “new behaviors” weren’t even around when we were your age (and I don’t want to sound like a old geezer talking about “back in my day.”) What I do know is that life is a living thing, and we will be brought the people and lessons we need to learn what it’s time to learn. If we don’t see or learn it, I — at least from my experiences — find the same lesson coming back, over and again, until I acknowledge and “get it.” I don’t see myself as an isolated individual wandering around on a planet “where things grow” but instead part of a huge, living, virtual reality that includes me (if that makes any sense.) Later, Melody
Thank you for the wise words, Melody. You’ve brought me to an odd realization (but it needed to occur): I don’t have even the vaguest notion of what “trust” is. I know what it’s not, that it was never something inherent in me; I can conceptualize its absence. The lack of trust — my mind can grasp that. But trust? When you encouraged me to trust myself — which, to be honest, is something that I don’t think anyone has ever said to me before — I had to pause. I didn’t know what that even meant. I thought about it; I struggled with it, but the word “trust” seemed just an empty noun that became more and more devoid of meaning the more I tried to wrap my head around it. I went as far as to look it up in the dictionary: “firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of something or someone.” Ha. I don’t know that I’ve ever had a firm belief in anything, let alone in my own capabilities. “Trust yourself” — it sounds like such a simple command, as easy to execute as menial tasks like brushing your teeth or taking a shower, something that you can just DO. But, somehow, it’s not. I’ve always just accepted that trust just…doesn’t exist, at least for me. But the art of trusting *myself*, an act directed not at the menacing world externally but something so internal, is just a concept I’ve never considered before — and now that I think about it, it seems so abstract and transcendent. I think that learning trust must be like learning a new language; it comes so easily when we’re young and impressionable, but, in our adulthood, it becomes somewhat of a struggle. Not insurmountable, though — there’s just more effort required. And, as in the process of learning a new language, the question becomes: Where do we even begin?
I started learning to take care of myself by simple steps: brushing my hair, brushing my teeth, eating, and doing the next thing. Self care was a forced and learned behavior, and the same is true of self-trust. It’s like we have emotional/psychological muscles that strengthen only when we use them, such as learning when to say no, when to say yes, when to go back after we’ve said “no” and then say, “I’ve changed my mind” and know that’s okay. It’s a journey and I’ve also learned one thing I don’t need to worry about is the lessons. They come. They don’t go away; they don’t disappear. When it’s our time to learn something, we’ll find ourselves in class. Best, Melody
Thanks, Melody. This journey still seems foreign and strange to me, but I think that I finally need to embark. Although…with caution. But it’s a start.
I just re-read my comment and it’s a grammatical nightmare. Yikes and apologies. Yep, it’s Friday, and I’m a lightweight who did a few shots. Judge accordingly. I swear I’m usually more eloquent. Really.
Wait, Friday? Nope. I mean Saturday. I swear, I don’t have dementia. Exhaustion. Blaming it. Lady Gaga and Britney Spears can do that, right? Please forgive me. Thanks.
Hi Melancholyj, I am so glad to hear you had a graduation party with chosen family members, we are fortunate we can have a family of choice, though it doesn’t invalidate what we didn’t have, I just know this has been a gift in my life. It has been almost impossible for me to see what I do have when despair and pain grip my mind and heart… I think it is the way it is with the pain connected to loss and the grief we feel as a result. All I have ever been able to do is to let it be until I can’t stand it or do it anymore and find I will get up and do something else.. sometimes it’s as simple as I brushed my teeth and got something to eat and in this state of mind it was probably in that order too! Melody speaks about trusting our instinctual self to tell us what we need to do on this journey as long as it doesn’t involve harming our self or another, and I agree with her hard earned and learned wisdom here. I found doing so to be a gift I honored myself with. In time it became the gift of learning to trust myself which ultimately was perhaps one of the worst things that abuse caused for me. Namely that I didn’t know how to trust myself. It seemed I trusted those who sometimes least deserved my trust and other times walked around those who did deserve it. It was a toss of the coin which way I would go.. but some intuitive urging was always there trying to tell me which was which, this is what I know now. Learning to discern who was who and which was which is something I do not take for granted today. I must have what I call truth tellers in my life. People who love me both in spite of and because of who I am. People who love my No as much as they love my Yes, ( Cloud and Townsend used this terminology, and are where I first heard this many years ago) meaning they respect my need to decide what is best for myself, while at the same time knowing I can hear them out if they speak respectfully and will take in to consideration their point of view. If blame shifting or invalidation starts I will say I need to get back to you on this. The dysfunction caused me to see life as all bad or all good /all right or all wrong, or it’s always been this way so it will always be this way whatever ‘it’ was. Mainly my default was that what ever was wrong was somehow my fault.. followed by the guilt that motivated me to try to fix it or conversely do an emotional and often physical disconnect as well. I do understand what you meant about’ lashing inwards’ and yes it makes perfect sense. We act in /lash inwards or we act out /strike out at others is what people do in reaction to abusive treatment. It is in essence about engaging in a mind altering activity or with a mood altering substance to take away the pain. If needs aren’t met, and we can’t meet them as they need to be, survival and defense mechanisms kick in, as you well know because you are a survivor, to help us protect our self in the only ways our psyche can figure out. We need to be dissociated from who or what is happening and I find it miraculous that the instinctual drive to survive shows up in what ever way it can find. I echo what Melody said about her concern with you getting therapy in finding the right therapist. I too had people, professional and otherwise who had an agenda that had less to do with what I needed or was best for me than it was about their unresolved stuff, needs or motivation. The counselor I worked with for 5 years filed a CPS report on my then husband and when I showed up for my return appt she told me that she knew she was taking a chance that I would not return, but hoped I would and had to follow the dictates of what she felt to be the right thing to do. Because I had worked with her long enough at that point to know who she was,I was able to work through the upheaval it created with my husband. It was the beginning of the end of my marriage which did end 10 years later. I broke the paramount rule of silence by not retaliating or invalidating her action in his estimation. Another story altogether. But my point is I did see other counselors after her and was involved in relationships where all manner of things were said to me (advice) or about me (betrayals) that were very painful and eyeopening. Each though served as a lesson that guided me closer to the path of self trust and for this I am grateful. I remind myself to be guided by principles not personalities today and to pay more attention to what people DO than what they SAY. And if something said or done in my presence gives me a gut hit that says hmmmm…. that was off base… I pay attention to it these days. It may be that I need to take immediate action by separating myself from the person or situation or it may be that I need to take a few steps back and observe until I know what I need to do. As Melody suggested with the book The Power of Now we are learning to be in the moment we are actually in. I am glad you are protective of yourself, I believe we remember what we need to remember ,to be healed, when the time is right and we are ready. That time table is your own no one else’s. As I said the circumstances aligned in such a way that I was safe and had the support I needed. Creative ways to deal with trauma came to me, for instance I bought a rag doll at Toys R Us that symbolized an abuser in my life. I wrapped duck tape around it and said there take that! This is how small you really are and how much power you have to harm me now. I put it back in the box and in my closet and when I was ready it went in the garbage where it belonged both metaphorically and physically. For those things I had no words for I painted and drew pictures as they came to me. I did collages and bought dolls and stuffed animals that represented parts of myself or others. I felt in control while doing these things and could fortunately share and speak to my counselor about what they were to me. I was mortified of violence as I grew up with it and was scarred by it. I didn’t want to do anything that resembled this in my thoughts or feelings, but neither did I want to allow the memory of it to regulate or have the power to allow me to do so to myself either. The night I pounded the phone into oblivion, my son who was about 16 at the time was home and he and I were watching a movie. His father called for the umpteenth time to say; now I’ll be home in another hour or two blah blah blah… I said excuse me for a minute to my son and I calmly went outside, and since we lived in the mountains I went 50 feet or so from the house where he wouldn’t see or hear this and released my anger on the phone rather than to seeth followed by whatever I would have said to my husband again for the millionth time when he got home. My son had no idea I had done this, I told him I was taking a call in the other room. I felt 1000% better after I did this. I hadn’t caused harm to myself or anyone else. My husband was very pissed that I wrecked the phone instead of being disappointed in himself for being a liar. He didn’t stop lying to himself or anyone else but I learned to stop answering these kind of calls after this, for the most part anyway. I had people make the suggestion to get a punching bag because it worked for them but this never resonated with me, my fear of anger was too frightening for me. Thank you for your kind words. I have felt that I am heard and seen here and the result is being able to do the same for others. I’m glad you found this site Melancholyj, your’e presence is a blessing. With Love, Denise
Dearest Denise: Thank you so much for your post; it is so full of substance and meaning, as always. Melody is so right — you are truly a gift to this site — and a gift to me, personally. I wanted to acknowledge your words and apologize that it may take a few days to write a proper response (I just arrived home after a long — but really good! — day, so I just now had the opportunity to read it.). I really, truly find so much value in every word that you write, each and every time. It’s almost 2:00 a.m. on the east coast, and I promised a friend that I’d meet her for a run and then head to a food/wine festival tomorrow morning, so I don’t have the time now to fully express my thoughts here (see a theme? Run, eat, repeat. Yep. It’s my life, but I love it.) — but I promise I’ll get back to you. So many distractions right now, but I need them. Life is strangely good. Will be in touch soon.
To Melancholy and all other “posters and commenters” — We’re all busy, and speaking for myself (and I think most others) we don’t take it personally when someone cannot reply immediately. Because — it’s not personal. We’re all busy and I find the idea that people find time at all to read and write posts here truly a gift. So I hereby give everyone a “Get Off Free With No Guilt” Card when they don’t have time to post right away — or sometimes for a while — due to the extenuating circumstances of Life. Best, Melody (Sorry for eavesdropping.)
Thanks, lovely lady! Never apologize for “eavesdropping” — I always appreciate so much when you respond. Will catch up later, as I mentioned; off to be cliche and “seize the day” or something.
Ditto on what what Melody said about the Get Off Free with NO Guilt pass… please no guilt, especially here is how I feel. Unless it’s about ‘releasing it’ as Melody also spoke of. I say Seize the day and every moment and opportunity to go with the flow of YOUR life. Hugs, Denise
Denise: Always so wonderful to read your stories — of living, loving, healing. Your life has been rich in its experiences, and you describe them with such remarkable imagery. I’m intrigued by your creative, symbolic means of coping with your traumas — the smashing of the phone, the duct-taping of the rag doll, emblems of self-protection in a world that seems so threatening. I’m glad that these methods have worked for you. I wonder if I may find some sense of closure or release if I try something similar, perhaps a drawing of my abusers that I could shred into a flurry of pieces and thrust into a roaring fire. The flood of emotions that would inevitably consume me in that moment seems so overwhelming, and the avoidance of these emotions feels so much more survivable, but I’ve spent my entire life trying to avoid feeling anything at all, and look where it’s gotten me: one step forward, ten steps back. I need to learn how to embrace my emotions, to really feel them, not try to flee from them as I have always done in the past. Maybe, then, I will discover the art of self-trust. It’s a strenuous process, a seemingly herculean task, but one day I hope to achieve the level of self-healing, of self-awareness, that you have. You continue to inspire me. I’ve had a paradigm shift recently that I do think is working. Part of my problem was always expecting too much from others — expecting to be loved or wanted in the same way that I loved or wanted others, and then being disappointed again and again until I was so beaten down that I felt paralyzed. I’ve learned now, rather, to expect nothing from others; that way, I avoid disappointment completely, and I’m often pleasantly surprised. Cynical? I don’t think so. Realistic. Anyway, these last two weeks have been really uplifting for me — I wouldn’t say that I feel genuinely happy, but I have my ephemeral bursts of actual bliss. It’s a start. It’s been a while since I last asked you: how is everything going in your life? You’ve been facing some truly daunting struggles, and I’ve been thinking about you. I have a strong protective instinct toward people who have legitimately been protective of me, and that includes you (and Melody, etc., on this site). If there’s anything at all that I can do to help, please let me know. Sending more love and hugs.
Thanks for the validation and the hugs, lady! I look forward to learning how you’re doing. Personally? I’m in a weird battle with feelings, a place in which I’m actually *having* them, acknowledging them, but the nature of them seems so incongruous with the actuality of my tangible experiences. Basically, everything has just built up to the point that, rather than crying, I am now laughing — genuinely, uncontrollably — at everything. Life is…hilarious, somehow. I don’t even know how to explain it or justify it; it’s just something that’s happening. I’m simply looking back, expressing awe at my weird luck (or lack thereof), and literally bursting into spontaneous fits of laughter for no apparent reason. Really. Not seeking sympathy or any positive feelings from others — I’m doing fine — but I’ve had a lot of stressors lately, and maybe it’s the combination of them all that finally unleashed the grief of my past upon my consciousness, but this culmination, the sudden pile-up of weird hurdles that had me cornered in an instant, seemed to trigger something that made me tap into every bad, painful experience I’ve ever had in my life — and maybe that’s why I broke down, started feeling everything I should have felt years ago, and now I’m here, finally grieving, on this site. So, with the preface of seeming completely vapid, pretentious, and materialistic (all of which I *promise* I’m not), I’ll just put it out there: in addition to all of the trauma, loss, and grief I’ve faced, in the last two months, I’ve also experienced the following (stupid, inconsequential, why-am-I-even-bringing-these-up) events: both my personal and work laptops broke down spontaneously, weirdly on the same day; I dropped and shattered my cell phone when I got hit by a car at a crosswalk (as a pedestrian–no injuries to me, personally); my MP3 player decided not to start; my primary bank account was hacked by someone/some company across the country (and then, luckily, was frozen due to the suspected fraud, but I’m still waiting for a new, valid debit/credit card to arrive); and — this was probably the most stressful event — my car was completely crushed by a garbage truck that backed into it, apparently while I was sound asleep, one morning. Wouldn’t have been such a draining experience if it weren’t a hit-and-run issue, but the driver didn’t leave a note, and I had to deal with the whole police/insurance investigation. Imagine walking out of your house, prepared to drive to work on just another normal day, to see that your car has been shattered into pieces and there’s no explanation for it. Yep — that was the opposite of fun. The car has since been repaired (around $6k in damages later; not that I had to pay for it, and I got a nice wash, wax, and detail out of the deal), and the other issues? — dealing with them as I can. But constantly feeling that you’re the antithesis of King Midas — that all you touch falls into destruction — can be draining. And confusing. And, frankly, as I said — at a point, oddly amusing. This weekend, I went for an eight-mile run with a friend, and we had a lovely time, except for the fact that it was a hot, sunny 90 degrees, so between the run and the outdoor festival we attended, we became very badly sunburned. I still look like a lobster. Poor planning. So, I went to the store and bought sunscreen, fully prepared for Monday’s twilight run (the sun still burns then). I remember lathering up beforehand, thinking, “Yay! I’m actually prepared this time. I dare you to touch me, sun.” Then, as soon I sprinted into the distance, the sky broke, and it started to pour. Really pour. And then there was thunder and lightning, as I ran on a deeply wooded trail. I remember receiving three texts in an instant, from three different friends, to warn me that there had been a tornado spotted at a particular intersection — conveniently, the very intersection that my drenched body was just about to approach. I have no idea what it was about this moment — I’ve searched my brain for metaphors about battles with nature or tempestuousness of the atmosphere but have come up empty — but at that very moment, I lost it. I broke down — not into tears, but into laughter…pure hysterics. I remember crumbling under a tree in the pouring rain, a sopping mess, just bursting into an uncontrollable fit. Still have no explanation for it. After a few minutes, I was able to pick myself back up and start running, slowly and soggily, back to the gym (my starting point). When I returned there, I walked in, drained and completely soaked, to hear my friend at the front desk say, “Wow, girl, you look absolutely pitiful.” I lost it again. “Why are you laughing so hard?” he asked. “Why in the hell were you even outside in this weather?” I had no words — just laughter. I had to sit in the corner and laugh it out for a few minutes before I could even speak. As I said, I can’t explain what happened then — and I’m not sure why that was a breaking point — but ever since (I know it’s just been a few days), I’ve found myself laughing at…everything. I don’t know if I’m finding things genuinely funny — but I laugh. And I can’t help it. Anyway, there’s no real moral or meaning to this story, and I’m not expecting anyone to explain to me what’s happening (although if you do have any insight, please go right ahead, because I’m truly baffled), but I just wanted to share my recent experiences with…feelings. They’re truly bizarre.
I just read an article about that (uncontrollable and repeated and unexplained laughing sessions) but I can’t remember what it said — I scanned it. Something (I’m sure) connected to not dealing with emotions for a while. Or maybe it is an appropriate response. I remember one year — Shane was still alive. Every single Sunday we were late to church. Finally I vowed that this week we would be on time or early. I went out of my way, only to get there and find everyone leaving. We had either began or ended daylight saving the night before, and I missed all of church. To me (and that’s the key to lessons — it’s what we get from them, not anyone else) is that many things are beyond my control, including the ability to “change or control” myself. It helped me lighten up. I’m working away — got a good streak with no meetings coming up (I despise meetings; I mean business meetings not the other kind) as they are the great block or barrier to getting any tangible work done, at least for me in my business. Melancholy, I recently had a decade where it honestly felt like everything I touched went bad. While I believe in gratitude for all of it, I was having a lot of tough circumstances with hard lessons at the end. Not an enjoyable time. That time is over. I guess some people have bad days; I’ve had bad decades. Or more aptly, “challenging decades.” I try hard to stay in the moment and not judge things as good or bad, but just let them be. I’m at my best then. Later, Melody
I think you’re right about the uncontrollable laughing fits. I spent so many years escaping my emotions, avoiding feeling them — protecting myself by walking around with blunted affect — that now that they’re engulfing me all at once, my brain doesn’t know how to temper them. First I was plagued with these awful sobbing fits that would pop up without warning, and now it’s the strange bouts of laughter for no apparent reason — emotional lability. I know it sounds odd, but I’m actually enjoying it (not the lability, but the ability to find such humor in everything — and genuinely laugh). I have to embrace it while I can, just in case I’m on the edge of falling back into to the crying fits. But, as you said, it’s best to stay in the moment and, rather than judge things, just let let them be. And so I shall. A bad decade? Yep, I can empathize. I’ve had two bad decades — essentially, my entire childhood. It’s a weird thing to think about, because that’s two-thirds, the majority, of my life. And so the best I can do now is take positive, proactive steps to ensure that there’s a gradual shift — that this upcoming decade isn’t so bad, and then only half of my life will have been tragic; eventually, idealistically, I’ll have lived long enough to claim that tragedy consumed only a fraction of my life. I know you express so much gratitude for all of your experiences — and, honestly, I don’t know how you do it so flawlessly; you are so much stronger than I — but I’m still truly sorry that you’ve had to endure entire decades of pain at a time, even recently, after you’ve done so much to help so many people. It sucks a ton — but I’m so grateful that these times are over and that you survived. You are an inspiration (I know I’ve said that a lot, but I really, really mean it, Melody). I’m making a lot of changes in my life now, and I have some pretty grandiose goals for both the immediate and distant future — but if these plans ever pan out, and I find myself with even a modicum of success (and actually, I have some good momentum going right now, so I’m remaining optimistic), you’re one of the people I will publicly thank. Sending positive thoughts and hugs (sorry, I know you said you’re not a hugger, but deal with it) your way. P.S. So glad you’re on a good streak with work, and I totally echo your sentiments about business meetings — in that I absolutely detest them. As I’ve said for years, few things make me feel the warm and fuzzies quite like puppies, kittens, and an empty Outlook calendar. And that’s the truth.
I’m not grateful when these things happen, but I “practice” gratitude — including gratitude for how angry I am, sad I am, etc. And despite how tough some decades have been, there’s always a lesson — some “aha” moment at the end (never while they’re happening) when I see what it’s all been about. Melody
Hi Melancholyj, Okay all these things … were just crazy and too much but I found myself laughing because it almost feels like… have I entered the twilight zone… what’s going on here? I’ve had those days or times where I think hmmm…. am I going to be struck by a meteorite when I step outside my front door???? Laughing like this during times such as you described is a relief when I have had them. It feels good to find laughter in the insanity. My brother and I just did this today, finding comedy in the unbelievable insanity that seems to prevail more often not. When I can give life the light touch it doesn’t change what’s happened but I get through it easier and that’s good enough for me:) Good news is good news and it is wonderful to know you are laughing. I had a series of incidences many years ago where my husband and I went home in different cars with me being about 5 minutes behind him. We lived in the mountains at the time so we traveled on winding mtn roads to get home. So I come to a fork in the road see fire trucks ,an ambulance police cars, the works, and it was about where the entrance to his yard was and I thought oh my God he decided to stop at his yard to get something and was involved in a head on collision!!!!, I immediately had a panic attack and just kept driving telling myself his car will be there when I get home, it wasn’t and I begin picturing the jaws of life getting him out a his crumpled vehicle and him at deaths door, but while driving up to the house on the dirt road and it was just turning dark I realized I had run over something in the road which in my mind was about the size of our dog, do I look? no… I get out of the car go into the house and tell myself if I did run over the dog I had far more serious problems with my husband in the ICU… my phone rings and I think here’s the call… well it was a call alright… from a parent asking me when the boys were suppose to be at their house?? what? 2 hours ago I say while my heart is beating out of my chest….. now my husband is probably at deaths door, I’ve killed the dog and I don’t know where my son is… you know what I did? I went in the bathroom turned on the water in the tub and took a bath. The world was too much for me and I couldn’t deal with it. When I got out of the bath my husband was home and told me the boys had called to tell him they were going to the movies and the father hadn’t told the mother so this is why she called me. the dog I thought I’d run over was a piece of carpet and mind you if I had really known I had run over my dog It would have been to the vet ASAP but the one rational cell in my brain was telling me I was me temporarily insane… I told my friend about this the next day and we laughed until we cried because she’d done the same kind of thing herself. It doesn’t matter why your’e laughing it’s just good to know you are that would be my only only insight. You are deciding for yourself how serious or funny any given event is to YOU. Hugs and giggles:) Denise PS the grand kids have been sick I finally succumbed to what ever they got and have been laying low… life is life and all is well.
Denise, thanks so much for sharing your story. You told it well. I, too, laughed at the end — and I’m so glad that, in reality, your husband was alive, your son was accounted for, and you didn’t run over your dog. Ha. Our minds always picture the worst-case scenario when tragedy is what we’re simply used to. It’s just been so ingrained. Interesting that your first instinct when everything was too overwhelming to bear was to take a bath — I’m the same way. Actually, I’m naturally drawn to water in general when my mind needs soothing, whether it’s a bath, a swim, or a run on the lake. May do all three today, actually; the last two are already in the works. Not sure why water is so calming and refreshing, but it’s always been key for me in my healing. Anyway, glad all is well, and I hope you swiftly kick whatever ailment you picked up from the grandchildren. I woke up with a sore throat myself; hope it’s just allergies.
P.S. A little less laughter, a little more sorrow today. I completely forgot that it was Father’s Day and had no reason to mourn until I logged into Facebook and saw that my newsfeed was 100% sentimental references to the holiday; most of my friends had even changed their photos to old ones, from early in their youths, in which they’re posing with their fathers. I don’t have a single photograph of myself before the age of 19 or 20. It’s not that I’ve lost them; they simply never existed — my family never took photographs. It’s a little bit sad. But, in all honesty, it’s probably a good thing — why would I want to have any tangible evidence of a time that was so painful? I probably would have destroyed them, anyway. So…all for the better. Hope everyone else is well today. Off now to seek some peaceful distractions.
Hi. Sorry your Father’s Day was sad. Many of us on this site learn to break holidays down into “hours to get through.” I survive best by telling myself it’s “just one day” in a year. But holidays can be a trigger for our grief. When (or if) you’re ready, it’s a good time to examine emotions that come up. The picture thing is a big deal. My mom used to make this miserable family we lived in stand together and look happy when everyone was sad (that was before I was born). There are a few picture of me up until age four (that’s when I was abducted). None after then. None from my high school years. Then my high school asked me to come and speak there. I accepted. The principal wanted to surprise me. He did. I got on stage. He projected a bigger than life image of one single picture they were able to find — a picture taken of me working on the high school newspaper. I was so stunned I could hardly speak. I held it together. Gave a talk. But seeing that picture triggered a six month “emotional healing/detox.” It was so intense. I saw when I had begun drinking when I was twelve. I could hardly handle those emotions now. No way could I have handled that much pain and sadness as a kid. I know this much: pictures are for “Kodak” moments. I honestly don’t remember one of them the entire length of my childhood life. Best, Melody
I just want to reiterate my gratitude for Ms Beatty and for her providing this safe and nurturing site for all of us who are fortunate enough to have landed here. As I read the posts, I can relate to so much that others have written. Not only are we able to share our thoughts in a safe setting, but have the gift of a personal reply offering support and wisdom from Melody herself. I believe this to be truly remarkable and am so grateful. By sharing and sharing and then sharing some more…I’m finally past the mindset that the grief connected to my precious older son’s death from an overdose had nothing to do with self-pity. It was necessary for me to continue to get it out and Melody….You are the reason I’ve been able to do this. I was blocked in the grief process but as I’ve heard many, many times….when the student is ready, the teacher appears! I first became aware of Melody Beattie in 1999, when a friend gave me a copy of “The Language of Letting Go” which is a daily meditational treasure which I try to read each day along with a couple other books. I often make copy of specific meditations which are particularly relevant and the one on May 7, Letting Go of Fear, is one of those. She writes in the first sentence…”Fear is at the core of codependency”. The whole passage is brilliant and I have a copy on my desk and read it each day. She ends it with….”God, help me let go of my need to be afraid. Replace it with a need to be at peace. Help me listen to my healthy fears and relinqish the rest”. Thank you, thank you, Melody, for your wise words. You are an integral part of my recovery and saying I’m so grateful hardly seems enough but I’ll just say thank you for being you!! Thanks for letting me share. All is well. loulou
Thanks for all your kind words, LouLou. You are one more contributing member of this site I cherish. You are a gift, in my life and on this site. Best, Melody
Hi melody. Im 37, live in Australia. Ive have six of your books and I am halfway through ‘the grief club’. I’ve committed to read a chapter a day as part of my healing process. I’m also in codependancy recovery for just over a year now, up to step 6. I have a Zen practice as well. I am getting so much out of your book. I have a backload of underground grief I am gently dealing with while im in a pretty good space in my life. Best friend’s murder, numerous betrayals, ex-boyfriend’s heroin relapse & overdose (fortunately he survived it and now in rehab), father with parkinsons, old childhood wounds of abuse, & now feeling the loss of a lifelong dream. So as you can imagine, I’m getting a lot out of your book. Thankyou for being such an incredible, amazing, wise woman. What would the world do without melody beattie? You have given so much light. Thankyou.
Hi, Holly. I’m quite certain the world would continue to spin on its axis whether I participated in my passions or not — but I wanted to say that I loved the way you worded where you’re at: In recovery with a backload of underground grief. So well said. Thank you. And congratulations on having the courage to face all this pain. I spent much of my life running from what hurt (as I had no other skills available). Even with skills, who wants to hurt? Anyway, again, bravo to you, best wishes, and please keep us updated on how you’re doing. Warm regards, Melody Beattie
Thank you, Melody, for the wonderful site. My losses are cumulative over almost 70 years of life. Early abuse, alcoholism, co-dependency, etc. Found this site accidently looking for any means of letting you know how very much many of your books have helped me over the past few years. Not sure if this part is public or private but it won’t matter. I appreciate you and what you continue to bring to the recovery process. Our losses are different but the effect is the same. I’ve just joined the club and am waiting for my copy of your book to arrive. Will explore the site further in the coming days to find out how it will best supplement my own recovery process. Be well.
The longer I’m in recovery, seeking consciousness, the more I see that so much of my dysfunction was an attempt to make pain and grief “functional and acceptable” — when I had no tools or support. Not glad you need to be here, but glad you found the site and are. Best, Melody
Gosh. I hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries by posting yet again about the darkness and grief that has been enveloping me lately…but today is one of those days in which, after a week of struggling just to take a half-step forward, I had the wind knocked out of me and fell four steps backward. And now I’m just a shattered, lifeless heap on the ground, paralyzed, wanting of the strength to lift myself back up. Today, May 25, marks a hopelessly tragic anniversary for me. On this day in 1999, my very best friend of many years, the only person in my life whom I had ever truly trusted — the only one who I knew would be there for me in an instant — succumbed to her struggle with anorexia. Cardiac arrest. One moment she was alive, and then she wasn’t….just like that. We were 16 years old. I felt like someone had stabbed me repeatedly in my already feeble heart, then twisted the blade every which way until my insides had poured out of my stomach and there was nothing left to feel but numbness. She was my rock. And then she was gone. I know it’s been 14 years already, and time is supposed to heal all wounds, but wounds rarely disappear without leaving a scar. I bear that scar in my heart — if you can even call it a heart; right now it just feels like a vast, dark hollow, a meaningless void inside my body — to this day. And I know not to engage in self-pity — after all, it seems that almost everyone on this site has had to endure the unbearable loss of a loved one. But today I feel like, for the first time in all of these years, I’ve had to suffer these painful reminders — Mother’s Day and the anniversary of Ali’s death, not even two weeks apart from each other — alone, with no shoulder to cry on, no hug to rely on. It’s the first year in my life I would say that I genuinely lack a support system, the first year that I haven’t been someone’s third, fourth, or even tenth priority. The past two years of my life have been a whirlwind of bridal showers, of weddings, of baby showers, of new births — and, as such, a whirlwind of celebrating these milestones and then watching, listlessly, as these friendships slowly slip away like sand between my fingers, as people once so close to me move on to bigger and better things. My last best friend — who, like me, is actually still single — just moved across the country last Saturday to pursue her dream of medical school. I know we will remain close, as we have a special, enduring type of bond that cannot be broken, but there’s something to be said about physical presence. And that’s what I grapple with this painful Memorial Day weekend — a suffocative aloneness that gnaws at my core, clawing its way throughout my being, an inextricable sorrow that asphyxiates my spirit. I don’t want to feel again if this is what feeling is like; I prefer the nothingness, the sense of being an empty shell. This is not to mention the violent nightmares that have haunted me since my traumas, my grief once repressed, all exploded at once as if from Pandora’s box. Now, not even sleep is a safe haven. The pain of being conscious is too much, and the pain of being unconscious is too much; it’s not that I want to kill myself, I just want to not be alive somehow. But I know that’s quixotic. So realistically, all I really want is this pain to go away — maybe not even completely, just ameliorate. Just a little bit. Enough such that I can pick myself off the ground and learn to stand on my two feet again without crumbling back down into this useless pile of shattered pieces. I need a hug. A real, physical, genuine hug from a person who truly cares. A hug and a shoulder, just for a few minutes, so I can squeeze some of this pain out of me. But I know that that, too, is quixotic. Anyway, I’m sorry for venting for so long. There will be better days. There HAS to be. It can’t possibly get much worse (although whenever I say that, it inevitably does).
Also, deep apologies for my grammar in that post — it just came bleeding out of me all at once in a total stream of (sub?)consciousness, and I can already see that it’s a mess. Rational, thinking part of the brain is a little stunted today.
I rarely edit my posts. If I did, I wouldn’t have time to respond. No worries at all; we know you’re a good writer. To all: have a decent Memorial Weekend. I’m at that point where I know more dead people than living ones …
Thanks for the faith in my writing. Happy Memorial Day to you as well. I’m determined to have one moment of happiness this weekend, hopefully serendipitous and unexpected, but that may be idealistic. This year is my least favorite. I feel like I know more dead people than living ones as well. I recently was browsing files from an old hard drive and came upon a lot of writings I did in high school, including a collection of dark poems. One of them was titled “I Am Stalking Death,” which I remember writing during a period of suicidal ideation. I wanted to die so badly. Eventually, I stopped stalking death, and I feel like death began to stalk me ever since…although in ways that I would never have wished.
Hi melancholy. I had such a strong death wish after Shane died. I wouldn’t kill myself; it went against my values. But my will is strong and I was willing myself “dead.” One night a friend stopped by. He looked at me and said I was so close to dying, and if I didn’t do something I would pass the point of no return. I asked him what could I do, but he had no answers. He left. I turned to the only thing I knew: the power of words. Because what he said made me realize I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to leave a quitter. I didn’t want to leave my daughter all alone. So I wrote an agreement, an unconditional agreement or contract with life. It was definitely a turning point although I was in so much pain all the time that turning points were difficult to distinguish. It was big glob of hurt and angst that went on year after year after year. Argh. It’s the compounding of losses — we don’t just have the one; we have all the others that one creates. It is the way of life, of the world, of the warrior. And I believe all who come together at this site are indeed warriors. Blessings. And I hope you get that moment — because then they begin adding up. If nothing else, I hope your soul can be at peace for right now, with right now. Best, Melody Beattie
Oh, I have been there. And please — grief is not self pity. It is grief. And it’s not true that time heals all losses. Experiences can help heal some, but for the losses that are permanent, the pain may be too. We just get more accustomed to living with it, and it becomes (for the most part) less overwhelming. You do have a support system — right here, on this site. Every person who has responded to you, including me, cares. Really cares. A story about needing a hug: I was on my couch, missing my son, praying for a hug (but with nobody to get one from). I live in an “own your own” building — it’s like a condo except we own proportionate portions of the land, etc. instead of it being owned by an outside corporation. Three of us own places here. Anyway, the guy next store — old, dying of cancer when I moved in — had gotten worse while I was in Minnesota caring for my mom. Had to have a surgery. Went deaf. They just covered his stomach with plastic. He hadn’t walked once, but after half a year was finally back home, here in the building. My housekeeper gave his housekeeper a copy of Lessons of Love — a book that’s written in story form about my son’s passing. The housekeeper read it, and then gave it to my neighbor, Isaac. Anyway (that was backstory), I’m laying on my couch grieving, longing for human touch. There’s a knock on my door. I get up. There’s Isaac, holding onto his attendant. It’s the first time he’d walked in a very long time. Tears were streaming down his face. I invited him in, but he just came in a little ways. “I read the story. I never knew you lost your son,” he said. His tears came harder and faster. “I’m so, so sorry. I just had to come over and give you a hug.” So this old man wraps his arms around me, the first trip he made on his legs. I laughed and cried — as our unspoken prayers even get answered, sometimes in the wildest ways. Just wanted to let you know that I have been where you have been, and it does get better. You are on a transformational journey. It’s not one you likely would have chosen, but you’re on it — and you are doing great, even though you don’t see that. Please stay in touch. Melody
Thanks, Melody. I always appreciate your thoughtful, sage responses. I am heart-warmed by the story you so eloquently expressed about your terminal neighbor, Isaac, who made his very first ambulatory trip post-surgery to your home, just to cry with you and give you a hug during your grief. You tell the story with unbelievable poignancy; it’s both inspirational and beautiful (not that the two are mutually exclusive). I wish I had one-fifth of the courage, faith, and strength combined that you have been able to embrace during such vulnerable, painful moments. I promise to write a longer, more rational response when I emerge from this bleakness/funk that is trapping me right now…because I feel that there are a lot of things I need to clarify and contextualize. Tonight isn’t the night, unfortunately, because I’m still severely grieving the lack of palpable love and may be coping in an unhealthy way that is unusual for me, personally, and may be triggering for others on this site….and I the last thing I want to do is hurt/trigger others (don’t worry, it’s legal, not a habit, and the best I can do to dull the pain in lieu of a hug right now. Basically, alcohol. More than I’m used to for a night, but nothing extreme for most people. Feel free to edit if the mention itself may be triggering.) I think part of the sorrow stems from a sense of betrayal from a so-called best friend (not the one who just moved) whom I’ve had for six years since I moved to this area. We’ve called each other “besties” for most of these six years. Her family is probably one of the most functional I’ve ever met; parents have been married for more than 30 years, all four siblings live within ten miles of one another and speak/get together regularly, and every holiday invariably becomes a large, joyous affair, an excuse for the entire clan to get together and cook in one home to celebrate all-around familial love. I shouldn’t complain; I’ve been invited to every one of these holidays — from Thanksgiving to Christmas — for as long as I can remember, and at these events, it’s always been joked that I’m the girl who, once raised by wolves, has finally been “adopted” into a family. I know that they all care on a peripheral level, and I am endlessly grateful that I finally have a group of people who even *joke* that I’m part of a family. And that should be enough in itself; as I write this, I begin to feel overcome with selfishness for expressing anything less than gratitude. Ugh. I feel like a terrible person right now as I delve into the (self-perceived) betrayal part — the story of my being by her side 24/7 for weeks, sleeping on the couch at her apartment (at her request) to comfort her during a serious, devastating, 7-year break-up recovery period, waking up in the wee hours of the morning just to give her a hug when she would burst into an uncontrollable crying fit, because she needed a friend on-call…just for me now to plead for a shoulder to cry on during an unbearably vulnerable week, to beg just for a body to embrace, only to be told that — because she’s now the mother of a newborn (5 months old) — our relationship has changed and she can no longer be my rock as she raises an infant. Priorities change so quickly. Everything started okay, and she initially called me “auntie” to her beautiful newborn child, but after a short while, she joined a group of new mothers, made more relevant friends, and I became just a mere speck in her and the child’s life…because her focus changed. We still talk, and she always tells me, apologetically, that I’m still in her heart, but that hormones and life changes have made it difficult for us to connect like we could in the past. I know her feelings are unintentional, and I’m not angry, but — I still feel hurt, betrayed, and abandoned. Again, I’m heart-warmed by the story of your neighbor, and I’m glad you received your much-deserved hug. Maybe one day — probably not for a long time, but one day — I will experience the joy of a hug, too.
First, I’m not that person who would censor your experience. I am of the belief that most alcoholics and addicts were medicating pain too overwhelming to feel; that many would have died without their addiction; but time came when the medication began hurting them more than the emotions, or they had new support systems. But your workup to what you did was so intense I thought you were going to say it was some strange thing with chimpanzees or something — just kidding — you don’t seem like the chimpanzee type. Betrayal? Sucks. I had someone who called herself my BFF. It started when I hit the bestseller list. After I went to Germany to have two artificial discs implanted in my spine, I developed double pneumonia — almost immediately upon return to the U.S. I stayed at my place in MN on the way to CA (my BFF is in MN). I called her to ask if she could go to the grocery store for me. Her response came in a birthday card that said: (and this is after I sat by her side when she had a nebulous physical problem that hospitalized her for a week, and she was on morphine constantly — and I was fresh out of a surgery that gutted me like a deer, decompressed my spine, put in two new discs, then threw everything back in and sent me back to the U.S. and then came down with a high fever and double pneumonia): Your message on the voice mail sounded like you are taking too many drugs. Can’t be around you. This after I never once abused my pain medication, and my doc later told me that for three years I was in the process of actively dying. It broke my heart. Betrayal. When we let someone believe something that’s just not true – like they’re our best friend — forever. I understand. Forgive. Can let go. But can’t allow it back into my life. She was surprised when she emailed me about three years later, maybe four, and I said I refused to play the best friend game anymore, that friends don’t do that. To me, it goes back to the narcissism we’ve been discussing here (not ours — but of those around us). The name of the book I was talking about to Denise, new on the market, is “The Magnet Syndrome: Why we Attract People Who Hurt Us” (think I got it right — but am doing it from memory). Anyway, despite the title, the book is about the author’s theory on narcissism on the part of parents who abuse, and its horrendous impact on us — and how we repeat it until we understand. I haven’t had time to read his book — writing teleplays is the most challenging work I’ve yet to undertake but I love it — but I have exchanged long emails with this gentleman, discussing theory, etc. I believe he and I are on the same page — and the guy is for real. His book is doing well. Anyway, I’m getting off track. Please know that you will not be judged on this site — ever. It was and is intentionally created with the opposite intention. It’s easy to be judged; much more difficult to find places where that doesn’t happen. Judging means we don’t have to think, don’t have to imagine walking in another’s shoes, etc. Living with passion and an open heart takes a lot of work. You said you wished you had some of what I have — yet my vision of you is that you have what I have plus much more. You are so much stronger, braver, courageous than you think. You are intelligent. You express yourself well. You are kind. Vulnerable. I see so much good and light in you. My hope is that soon, you will see that too. I believe you’re already on the way (to seeing it) and may be the last to know. Thanks for your post. Best, Melody PS – irony is, I’m not a hugger.
Thanks for your kind words, Melody. The story of betrayal from your so-called “BFF” breaks my heart. You did the right thing by ending the best-friend game, the cycle of manipulation. Unfortunately, I’ve known far too many people like that in my life — but the hard thing is, you never discover their true nature, their hidden identity, until you need to ask them of something. And then it is often too late. You’ve already invested your time, your energy, your trust for so long. It’s why I rarely give people the benefit of the doubt anymore. Anyway, I am feeling a little stronger, a little less in darkness, today. I had an enjoyable Memorial Day after all — good food, good conversation, good friends. And then, this morning, I had a truly exhilarating run with a friend on one of the lovely local trails. People often look at me as if I have three heads when I express the thrill of running, but god, it’s just so spiritually cleansing for me, so therapeutic. Anyway — I know there are a few other new posts here to which I owe a reply, but I’m under a tight deadline at work trying to submit a couple of manuscripts…so I’ll be back later to respond to everyone’s post, I promise. PS. You’re right, definitely not the chimpanzee type. I actually have an almost-paralyzing fear of monkeys.
Hi Melody, The book title is The Human Magnet Syndrome, Why we love people who hurt us. I just ordered it. My mother caught her face/head on fire again last week smoking with the oxygen cannula on. This time required a 5 day hospital stay. The oxygen company told the Dr they will not deliver to her anymore, he talked them into giving her another chance. My brother told me she could barely contain her rage and venom until he got her in his truck. 68 lbs, tube in her abdomen, late stage COPD, bowel cancer since last June in remission with no treatment, still drinking and smoking. My son and his wife made motel accommodations drove 300 hundred miles so they could bring their 2 small children, 3 and 10mths for her to see, her other grandson and wife also met them there, prearranged with their 2 small boys. They were still in the drive way and she called to tell me what was wrong with the great grandchildren…. as I looked at my phone holding it at arms length I considered which window to throw it through. Then thought No… why should I hurt myself by having to buy a new ph and replace a window. I picked up my 3 year old grandson today for our once weekly day together. I pick him up at 9 and bring him home at 6 or 7. We spend the entire day in absolute bliss. He loves to play hide and seek and squeals with laughter that makes me laugh when I say Thereeeee you are! I do voices for the chicken statues in my yard as he has assigned who is the daddy mommy baby and nana chickens and he arranges them in a circle together. He tells me this one got hurt and needs a kiss so I kiss it, he kisses it and then all the other chickens must of course do so also. He pretends my hair clip is a shark and it swims through my house and yard finding things to bite. He was a dinosaur today while we were at the park and tried out his “dinosaur powers” on two bigger boys who he preferred not be using the water and sand area by holding up his hands like claws and doing his best dinosaur growl from a distance so far from them they neither saw or heard but his imagination told him it was worth a try, it didn’t work and so it was on to the swing. We discussed the spider and her eggs he found and the snails that look like sea shells, he shared his lunch and snacks with me and asked me many times… Nanny so whys that happen (happening). His eyes fill with light when he smiles and when he laughs my entire home lights up and so do I. His heart is so precious and loving and trusting. He wore himself out at the park and came and sat in my lap laid his head against my chest and let me hold him while he relaxed in my arms and we both hummed the abc song. His breathing slowed and he began to drift off to sleep. I hope that something like this will happen for my mother, that she will be able to drift off to sleep and wake up in a place where all sees is perfect and beautiful, just like I saw today. Why do we love people that hurt us… maybe it hurts less than hating and what it does to us. I don’t know. I’m just tired of feeling hurt and anger and that’s really all I know. Blessings to all. Denise
Thanks for the beautiful post. Children. Pets. Nature. We are surrounded by that which brings healing to our hearts. But we still have to crawl through the pain sometimes to see and feel all the gifts. It’s all part of the journey, I guess – whether we like some parts (which I don’t) or not. In the end, it’s all perfect. Sounds like your mother is quite the pistol. I’m sorry you didn’t get the love and mothering you deserved (and still do). I do believe that he positive side of growing up in dysfunction — how strong it makes us, we keep going when others fold, we get the job done, we become filled with compassion and the ability to help others heal — is too often ignored or overlooked. Talk to you soon. Melody
Denise, your post about your grandson, and the light he brings to your home, is so beautiful and touching. I’m ever-grateful that, even among all the vicissitudes of life, the undeserved unpleasantries that have left you wounded and grief-stricken, you find peaks of light in the darkness. There’s something about a child’s pure, inviolate innocence that evokes such a sense of tranquility. I’m glad that you have that gem in your life, even if it’s only one day a week. You are a lovely person and truly deserve that gift. I’m also so amazed and inspired by your whole family’s unwavering dedication to your mother’s journey toward — as you expressed it so eloquently — a place where all is “perfect and beautiful,” even as much as she has hurt you. It speaks lengths about your kindness of heart. I don’t know if I have the same wish for my mother. I wasn’t strong enough to cling to a dream in which she, one day, would become rehabilitated, would find her inner peace — and then express that peace toward others. I may never speak to her again — and for now, for me, that is just for the best. Anyway, your post was joyous, so rich in its positive energy. Thank you for the privilege of reading it. It made me smile.
Please know that forgiveness, speaking to an estranged parent — our process — is truly “ours” and is not a one-size-fits all, Melancholy. You don’t have to and should not be anyplace you’re truly not (emotionally). Just wanted to validate that. I’ve wasted too many life moments trying not to feel how I really feel, or feel some way I don’t — only to later learn that the lesson at hand was doing the opposite: learning to stop resisting how I really feel, and stop trying to feel some way I don’t. Be well, and keep us updated here — okay? Best, Melody Beattie
Thanks so much, Melody, for validating my feelings. I struggled for a long time about my decision to turn away completely and never look back. My mother, in my eyes, was (well, still is) a veritable monster; I know that’s a strange, strong pair of words to attribute to an actual human being, but the abuse I experienced at her hand is truly ineffable — literally, too extreme and intense to even have expression in the English (or probably any) language. When I was a child, a fledgling poet, I remember lying in bed (which, for me, was a foam pad on the floor), desperate to ooze my pain into the pen and onto a notepad (sorry, didn’t have a computer back then–ha! I’ve just turned 30 and yet I feel SO old now), longing to find words powerful enough to reflect the pain I was enduring — only to find that there were none with enough poignancy that even existed in the dictionary. I want to say that’s a good thing, because ostensibly it suggests that the trauma I endured is too rare for words, but the reality is probably that it happens more often than people think — and the only rarity is in how often our society speaks of it. That realization makes me sad. But I’ve gone off on a tangent, and I digress. I do want to clarify one thing — I didn’t give up without trying. I was 18 when I fled home (to college, fortunately on scholarships, grants, and paid assistantships), and I vowed never to speak to my mother again. But I did — at least, I tried. I remember walking across the stage at college graduation, donning a heavy load of honors medals (sorry, going to take a quick break from my recent feelings of crushing self-worthlessness and brag that I graduated with a 3.96 GPA; I’m blaming the few A-minuses that brought me down on the intense organic chemistry/calculus requirements of the neuroscience major…yep, I’m actually a scientist at work, but an artist at heart.) I had a vast group of friends cheering for me, waiting for me in the stands, eager for our celebratory graduation brunch — and I knew that they cared, at least peripherally. But as I watched every single one of my classmates embrace groups of people who were obviously family, and who were so quick to exchange expressions of “I love you” (a phrase so foreign to me), I quickly became depressed and lonely. I seemed the only graduate that day without a single blood relative to hug me, commend me, tell me that I had achieved something. I felt like none of my accolades had mattered, that I was barely worthy of being treated as a sentient being, that I absolutely didn’t even deserve to be alive. I remember crying for days — until Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day came barely a week after graduation, and in my intense vulnerability — after more than four years of silence — I called her, impulsively, in an attempt to make amends. This phone call was going to resolve everything, I thought; four years estranged from your one and only daughter *had* to have broken her, and she had to be amenable to fixing all the pain of the last 22 years. We could start over, as adults, right? Right? Well…nope. “Hi, I know it’s been a while, but it’s your daughter, Jessica,” I started, nervously. “I wanted to wish you a happy Mother’s Day and see if we could talk sometime.” An impenetrable silence on the other line. “Um, hello?” I asked. Finally, she uttered her response: “You were dead to me the day you were born. You were dead to me the day you left at 18. What makes you think you’re suddenly not dead to me anymore? ‘Dead’ isn’t malleable; it doesn’t change. Learn the definition.” I’m not sure why I had thought an entire world would reverse itself in a single phone call, or if I had simply succumbed to the cliche of time healing wounds — but, even after years of adapted abuse, this phone call was one of the most soul-crushing moments of my life. I rarely think of it these days — it’s been eight years now — but when I do reminisce, the pain still feels raw. And that’s why the dream of a mother with normal emotions, a mother capable of expressing peace, a mother who can exist outside of a nightmare and bear the semblance of a normal human being, is so distant and quixotic. I do think there is a fine line between healthy hopefulness for recovery of a loved one’s struggling soul and just plain codependency on a cause that is irrevocably lost. I fear that I’m dealing with the latter, and that is why I had to let go. Apologies for the rambling. Much love.
Hi. I took the liberty of editing out your real first name, as I believe people feel safer here knowing they’re anonymous. I apologize if you wanted it included. I cannot say I understand how you feel — because we each walk our own path. But I heard every day from the day I was old enough to understand what the words meant, “I should have aborted you when I could.” I grew up believing I had no right to be alive. I watched and endured other abuses, and will not compare pain, but instead honor yours. I was an alcoholic (self-medication) by age 12 — blacking out. Still, I graduated with straight A’s and A pluses, on the Twin Cities Honor Roll. I turned eighteen before graduation though, and because I only needed two credits my final year, worked in the copyright department of a major MN corporation. When I graduated, I had nobody there either. I’m not sure what’s worse — having someone there who wishes you were dead, or not having anyone at all. Often I’ve wondered what it would have felt like to have been loved — at all — as a child, what kind of difference or impact that would have had on my life, who I’d be now. As I grew older, I decided when I could handle talking to my mother and when I couldn’t. My success enraged her. She tried to pull me out of treatment, even though that would have meant going to prison when I finally went to treatment for the first (and only) time after it was “invented.” I couldn’t be around her my early years. As time passed, I had times when I could endure her cruelty, and times when I couldn’t. Then, about ten years ago, I had this vision. I would bring her out to Malibu — first class all the way. We’d have a great mother-daughter reunion, experience the love we never had. (I think we all get those illusions, borne out of sheer desire.) The moment she arrived, I went, “Oh, My, God, What Have I Done?” Unbeknownst to me, she was in the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s Disease. She was sharp enough to know it, sharp enough to fake it, and sharp enough to continue manipulating. She wasn’t, however, sharp enough to protect herself. She gave Power of Attorney to the wrong person, turned over her entire estate, and they became impatient to “win that lottery.” I tried intervening once. She was so sick from malnutrition (I found out later she was being fed only five meals, total, each week) that she couldn’t stand up, get out of bed. I’d never seen her that way before. I called an ambulance. I tried to intervene. She told me to “Get the hell out of here and leave me alone.” I detached. I knew time would change things. I then went to Germany for my surgery. As soon as I was allowed to travel, to walk, to move (almost a year later), I knew I had to go back to her. I did. After ringing the doorbell, I didn’t recognize the woman who answered the door. She was living in filth, being starved to death, hadn’t had a bath or showered in about three or four months. The floor — every inch of it — squished from cat urine. This woman kept such an immaculate and controlled home that she knew if you even touched anything in her bedroom, sat on a sofa, etc. Now, she was a vulnerable, 93 year old woman who was being abused and couldn’t care for herself. As the Alzheimer’s progressed, she forgot how much she despised everyone (including, I think, herself). She could still bring the caregivers I found for her to tears (a male caregiver). She could still bring me to tears. But another side of her emerged. I made a decision that all her life, my mother had been looking for love and although a mother is supposed to love her child, I was going to love her unconditionally so she would know what that felt like. I gave her what I believe were the best years of her life. Then she broke her leg and began the trips in and out of the hospital, to rehab, etc. so common with the elderly. She became what’s called “a two-person transfer.” I had promised her I would never put her in a nursing home, so I decided to move from Malibu to a small town in northern Minnesota and be her second “on-duty” caregiver. I’d live with her the rest of her life — live with a person I swore I’d never spend another night with again after I turned eighteen. (I had begun crossing out the days and counting them when I was twelve). I was genuinely excited. At my son’s funeral, she hadn’t reached out to me once and instead had yelled at me saying, “This isn’t about you.” She had never, not once, nurtured me. Until she turned 93, two weeks before her death. The night I was packed to move back to MN, I received the call. She had a stroke, had been air-lifted to hospice, and there was no hope. I sat with her in hospice until she exhaled her final breath. After her death, while cleaning out her house, I found that she had clipped and saved every single article about me; had a copy of everything I wrote; and had wrote the most loving words possible in her journal about me. I was truly blown away. My mother was a damaged woman. But for a few moments, before her death — and of its own accord — the circle of love healed. I consider myself one of the lucky ones. Daily in this country, five children die from child abuse. Four of them are under the age of five. This shouldn’t be happening, I keep thinking, not with all the information, help, and support available to people. But it is (happening). It does happen. You are not alone, although your pain is uniquely yours and I’m not going to burden you with mine. I learned the fine art of shutting off emotions when I was young, of self-medication, and of “living in my head.” Even after recovery — after one huge explosion of rage at her and guilt for feeling that way that precipitated me getting straight — the grief didn’t emerge. Then my son died. I cried for the next eight years. Every single day. My whole life I searched for family. Each time I found it, it slipped through my fingers. Eventually I realized that perhaps my calling wasn’t to lead a life like others, but rather was to be a life of service. I could give and receive love in other ways. I could take what had happened to me, heal it, and then turn it into healing for others. I have worked hard to do that, because it is the only thing that makes sense of the pain of my past. It has taken most of my life, but I have learned to live in each moment, feel whatever I feel, and trust (mostly) that my needs will be met. When an ex-sponsor, years ago, suggested I needed to get more angry, I sat down to meditate on how angry I was. This happened after three months in China and Tibet, touring the temples and climbing the holy mountains. As I sat on the floor, trying to summon up rage for all the wrongdoings I had endured throughout my life, I couldn’t. Instead a white light enveloped me and I saw the absolute perfection in every single incident in my life. I was in awe. When I told my sponsor, she said I probably did it wrong. I am at peace. That isn’t wrong. Sorry for the “book” here. I’m not saying or suggesting you should e anywhere in your relationship with your mother except where you are, honestly are. I go back to the word Jnana, a Tibetan and Hindu word meaning “learning through experience.” We each have a path, experiences, and lessons. Nobody can decipher these or learn them for us. It’s something we need to do ourselves. How could I possibly tell anyone what they should do when I barely know myself? What I can tell you is this: I believe in you. I know you are loveable. I know you deserve love. I know people on this site care deeply about you, and have been moved and touched by your story and are rooting for you. And I promise you this — we won’t be hanging up on you or going anywhere, not if we have anything to say about it. We may be the recovery version of the Dirty Dozen, but we’re here for you — as family, as support, as listeners, as sharers. We cannot make up for what you didn’t get, but we can give you love now. Eckhart Tolle defines love as being present for, aware of, and accepting of another. That’s what I can offer. That’s what we each need to learn to offer ourselves. The rest of it? It will be what it will be and “like the old folks say, you never can tell.” Best, Melody
Thanks for the long and thoughtful response, Melody. I always appreciate and enjoy reading your posts. I cherish every word. Funny, my mother said the same thing to me every day from the time I was old enough to understand language — “I wish I had aborted you; you disgust me.” I learned on a frequent basis how I had been an accident, how I didn’t deserve to exist; how I was a punishment, a daily reminder of her shattered marriage. I, as all children are, was impressionable, and these thoughts, so frequently reinforced, became etched in my brain as truth. Like you, I sometimes wonder how my life would be different if I had been loved — by anyone — as a child, how my path would have deviated from where it actually led. I had peers who were loved unconditionally, whose parents would pick them up from school every day and, every time, envelop them in hugs while gushing emotionally about how much they had been missed. Despite all of that love, for whatever reason, many of these classmates still turned to drugs, unprotected sex, and accidental pregnancies; some even dropped out of school. It’s not always easy to speculate about what *could* have happened if circumstances had only been different. Correlations don’t imply causation, either. Anyway, regardless of how badly your mother hurt you during your youth — I always thought that the emotional abuse, the manipulation of words, hurt worse than the physical abuse — I am not glad that she had to endure such abuse from her caregivers as she struggled through the most vulnerable period of her life. No one should have to endure that. The ending of your story is surprising but heartwarming — how you saw another side of her emerge in all of her vulnerability, a side that longed to be loved in itself; how you channeled your loving energy toward her to complete the circle of healing right before she died. I still have 30 years until my mother reaches her 90s. I can’t even begin to speculate what could happen in that vast span of time. It would be a wasted effort. All I know is the present, the now, and that’s all I can heal; the past, of course, is immutable. Thank you for the reassuring and kind words at the end of your post. I do feel that I am loved here — inasmuch as love can be transferred anonymously from machine to machine — and treasured in a way I never have been before. I hope that I can be just as loving and inspiring to others on this site..
You are — loving and inspiring. Thanks for the comment. Best, Melody
Thank you, Melody. How are you doing yourself?
Welcome — and I’m doing well. Thanks for asking. I’m recovering nicely from my surgeries — walking some days up to half a mile. That might not sound like a big deal, but I’ve been unable to walk that far since by spinal implant surgery in 2005. I feel … good. And I seemed to have passed a milestone with my teleplay writing. Like you, I don’t want to “jinx things” by talking about something that hasn’t tangibly manifested ..l yet … but I feel differently about my work now, and the writing is coming faster, the resistance less of a block. Best, Melody
I’m so happy for you! Both are huge accomplishments. Sending positive vibes for lots more successes.
Anniversaries. Holidays. Sometimes, it feels like the pain just stores up and waits for such an excuse to attack. I think I’m good – I think I’m facing and dealing with what I need to in order to get past/through/whatever – then bam! I’m brought to my knees, again. I can say, today, that I get up sooner. I can say, today, that I’ve learned that sometimes I just need to stay on my knees for awhile and pour out the pain that’s built up before I can begin to gather the shattered pieces and, once again, start putting them back together. Today, each time I put them back together, some of the pieces fit better without the grime of pain….like somehow my tears wash some more of them clean. I’ve learned to begin to trust that there is Something there with me when this happens…a Power that holds me safe, even when I feel like there is nothing inside but pain and if I let it all out, there will be nothing left of me. I know, today, that I have – and have always had – what I call a ‘will to thrive’ It is not that basic, natural instinct that all living creatures have…it is more than that. It has caused me to make terrible mistakes, to seek out the right things in the wrong place, wrong ways and wrong people because I didn’t know anything different, but it has also caused me to continue seeking. To never give up and never give in permanently. Ever. No matter what. I’ve been away from the site for awhile…there was a long period when I just became sick and tired of grieving. Of feeling it, sharing it, writing about it….just sick of it. I even recoiled from the name of the site….a place that once gave me the only meaningful outlet I had for my grief. A place – and people – that never got sick of it, never told me to get over it already, never recoiled from what I shared. But, I wanted to get over it. I didn’t want so much of my energy spent on grieving. Well….the grieving didn’t stop, even if I gained an illusion of control over it by not participating on the site. It takes what it takes. I’m not sure why I was motivated to come back to the site this weekend but I’ve been reading through your posts, MelJ and I am so grateful you found this place and have shared some of your story. This is a healing place, especially for those of us who are and/or feel alone with our anguish. I see in your words that same ‘will to thrive’ and I rejoice in it. Though you may not see it or feel it at the moment, it is there. Call it angels, call it a God of your understanding, call it the Universe….whatever. It is there and will see you through – every time. You are not alone with your pain. Though there may not be a physical presence, there is a presence….energy that can hold and heal and celebrate with you here in this pixelated place that is very real. It is safe here. Thank you for reminding me.
Hi Roxi. Good to hear from you again and were I in my early years of grieving, I would probably come and go from this site, recoil at the name (from time to time) and just plain want to be away from grief — even though I couldn’t shake it off me. I like hearing your voice again, reading what you have to say. We all need a break from this ongoing pain at times; it’s important that we honor ourselves enough to take that break — otherwise it would just plain be too much. Best, Melody
Hi Melody….thank you. I’m happy to hear that you’ve weathered your physical challenges, once again, and seem to be well on the road to recovery. I am humbled by your strength of spirit! This life makes us pretty tough cookies, doesn’t it? (Whether we want to be or not!) Throughout this past year(plus), your words/thoughts on grief and how so much of our ‘dysfunctions’ are rooted in grief – or an inability to grieve, for one reason or another – come back to me often. I can’t say I am always happy to ‘hear’ them (ha!) but isn’t that the way with a truth, sometimes? I have come to agree, however. There is much to grieve….so much loss, on so many levels. Giving myself permission to do just that, as often as I need to and in the ways I need to, largely as a result of your encouragement, has made a huge difference in my recovery and my progress. I pass on that encouragement whenever I can, however I can. I have been so blessed to have the willingness (desperation?) to face and feel my grief – even through periods of rebellion. Yes, sometimes it is just ‘too much’ but yes, it is also unshakable….unavoidable….and must release, at some point, in some way. I prefer the ‘recovery’ way. Thank you, for the millionth time, for having the inspiration, wherewithal and gumption to put yourself out there and create this place for us to find. <3
Thanks for the kind words. I have no words to say how blessed I am and feel by all the great members of this site. So many sites are filled with internet “Trolls” and negativity — yet this site is full of love, support for each others, kindness and truth. Again, thanks much. Melody
RoxL, thank you so very much for your post. I can relate so well to your expression of pain, the feeling of crumbling to your knees and needing to stay there to pour it all away before grasping for the shattered pieces. I’m so happy you have found your “will to thrive” and a power beyond yourself, beyond what is corporeal, to hold you safe, even as you grapple with the pain. Your experiences seem to have built up an unbelievable amount of strength. Thank you for sharing it with me.
Hi Melancholyj .. sending hugs.. wish they weren’t the e-mail kind but they’re also being sent with the hope that one attached to a person will find it’s way to you and if not you can generally find them at 12 step meetings… saved me from complete despair many times, this or what my daughter calls ‘earth angel buddies’…. a dog or cat:) These anniversaries can send us reeling for sure. Different years, different anniversaries have brought varying degrees of upheaval with in me. In hindsight I could see what needed to be known and healed but never knew or understood while it was happening . Some times the only thing I can do is tell myself …This too will pass. Knowing it will pass is not visceral it is willed, because I have been in this place before and can also remember that I came out the other side. It is very difficult when friends lives move in a different direction than our own and the seasons of our lives no longer mesh. I was married for 25 years and learned in the years following the divorce that it was difficult for me and for some of my married friends, most really, to maintain the same connection we had before. It wasn’t that the sense of affection or friendship was diminished, but in part some of the commonalities were no longer there. And I did take this to heart and did feel somewhat left out and alone but I had to learn a new normal and it was a challenge. It sounds like you are in the process of grieving many losses right now Melancholyj, this is hard and hurtful there is no two ways about it. I hope you will take the gentle path with yourself and do more not less where self care is concerned. It seems to be the last thing we feel able to do but I know it helps when I do. I want to Thank you for your research and information with regard to my brother. He has a long history with the Dept of Corrections and this is absolutely factored into a sentence. Many people may believe that double jeopardy doesn’t exist but it most certainly does…unless one can afford a high priced lawyer. My brother was sentenced to 21 years back in 1992 of which he served 16 years.He was given 3 years for the offense he was being tried for and 2 years for each previous conviction of which there was 9, this tacked on an additional 18 years. This kind of thing happens far more often than most people understand, and is why I am mind boggled when I hear people who have no idea what goes on, tell me about the ‘country club’ they think prison is. Were any of those who have said this to me to actually visit one of these hell holes, I venture to guess they would be stunned speechless followed by at least one nightmare. I am going to ask my other brother to speak with the lawyer he knows to find out what he knows about this. Thank you very much for your concern on his behalf. Your grief and the reasons for it are deep and wide and horrendous. The situations in my family are unpleasant to be sure but it is important that you do not allow yourself to feel guilty or in any way shame yourself by comparisons. I think an obstacle to my own grief work in the past has been the idea that others have it worse so what right do I have to ‘feel sorry’ for myself. One has nothing to do with the other. As no one can feel our Joy so neither can they feel our grief. One of the things( there are many) I love about how Melody has so wisely and lovingly setup this site is that it is a place where we come as we are, in the moment or day or situation we are in with all the emotions that go with it. It is not a place of judgement it is a place of healing. Though we can not reach across this cyber space and give hugs we are here to support and listen to and encourage one another when our courage has failed and we feel lost or alone. We are also here to celebrate those aha’s and the healing that can touch us in an instant or bring comfort when we were convinced comfort could never be possible, at least this has been my experience of this site. I hope it can be yours as well. Our 30′s are a time of seeking, rehashing, assessing, sorting through. I am 57 now. I think it is important for you to know this Melancholyj, if you already don’t. These years were a time of waking up and feeling for me, and I have often compared how this time in my life felt to what we feel when we sit on a bended limb and it goes to sleep… and the pain we feel while the life giving blood and oxygen returns to it. It hurts like hell. But it is necessary pain meant for our survival of course and were it not to happen we wouldn’t have our limbs! I believe for myself were I not able to feel and work through the pain I did then, neither would I feel the joy I have since, for all its’ worth. I like your use of the word quixotic which I did not know the meaning of, but looked up and now do. I would say you are right on track with where you are meant to be, with Melody I too see you as in the light. The shadows have fallen behind you, but I know I needed a history of this tucked inside me before it was as real as all that had once hurt me was. I see you as working on this now. “The pain of being unconscious is too much and the pain of being conscious is too much” so perfectly expressed what and how I felt in my 30′s. It was a crossroad in my life and I was painfully aware of it. Nothing felt right. I wanted to go back to how I was one minute but couldn’t and wanted to get this recovery healing ‘thing’ done but couldn’t either, damn the pain damn the confusion and everyone who caused it and everything that tells me it will get better… I recall thoughts such as these more than once. It is part of the process and what you share in my experience speaks to the reality that you are walking this very sacred and ultimately life giving road. The fear is that it will get worse as you mentioned… when ever I said this( too many times to count), it was my scared kid speaking to me. And eventually I would find what I called the Good Mother inside of me to tell that lonely frightened child the truth. You are loved, you never did anything to deserve the things that have happened to you, you are not alone… this is the worst lie I can tell and torture the hurt little kid inside me with. I wouldn’t dream of saying this to a child in my life so why would I say it to the one inside of me? Know you are loved and valued here and I hope for you to be gentle with yourself. Sending more hugs and thanks for your investigative work. Denise
Great post, Denise. I never thought to ask if you lived in California (which is where I am). In the last election, we turned over the three-strike law — which is why I brought it up. I also know how flawed and horrendous our criminal justice system is, how many guilty people go free, how many innocent people sit in jail, and how many people who need recovery are instead punished. It’s so horribly messed up. And now with the private sector making money off the prisons, the system will become embedded, making it even harder to change. It’s a long story — don’t get me going. But we all need to tackle what’s before us, what feels right, what feels like “our mission.” That’s all we can do. Many years ago, one of the gentlemen I worked with when I worked as a counselor said, “It’s critical that we leave the same opportunities for others that we had, Melody.” He meant the chance for more than one treatment; forgiveness by the judicial system for an illness; the opportunity to overcome a criminal history and rebuild a worthwhile life. As of now, we’re not achieving this. We have more people incarcerated in our nation than in any other nation in the world. I could go on and on. I’m not a bleeding heart liberal — but I also don’t believe in the death penalty. Not with a system as flawed as ours. I don’t believe in killing as punishment. But all those are thoughts for another time, another expression. Ever grateful for your presence here, I remain, Melody Beattie
Hi Melody, It does my heart so much good to speak to someone who really gets what I’m speaking of regarding the penal system, so few do. I understand the reason for this is the same as it is for us all when it involves something that doesn’t directly affect us or is not within the realms of our experience… it gets pushed to the background of our data banks, if it’s there at all. And ditto with don’t get me going either. God Bless the man who stated so eloquently what he did to you all those years ago, about leaving the same opportunities. My first sponsor said often ‘But for the Grace of God go I’. A good thought to perhaps follow what we think and proceed what we say in that order. Speaking about myself here first and foremost. Neither do I believe in the death penalty for all the same reasons. And yes my mother is one scary badass (apologies if the language offends anyone) Grown men of many statures and backgrounds knew they met their match when they met her and some turned tail and ran not walked away, the others learned to skirt around her or just not go there. 5ft 2 120 at her fighting weight with an iron will and a straight up mean streak. My siblings and I used to joking ask one another in our 20′s did you get the gestapo call? Our father God rest his soul had a wonderful sense of humor and we learned that humor is both a good tool and good medicine to carry in ones survival bag. BTW my dad was born and raised in Fargo North Dakota and I was asked on few occassions if I came from Minnesota? This always puzzled me until someone told me you pronounce certain words with the diction of people who live in those surrounding areas. It finally dawned on me since dad came from Fargo it made sense. My grama the most beautiful alcoholic human being who couldn’t hurt a flea if she tried was taken to bars as a little girl and sang and danced on the bar as a little one. I was reminded of this when you spoke of what your father said about you with dancing at the bars also. Grama was married at least 6 times and she had her woes in this life but for a few years she was sober and she would drive from house to house and pick up those grandkids who wanted to go to church with her in the back of a camper and these were some happy memories for me. Standing next to grama in the good ole Southern Baptist church as she belted out songs from the hymnals, thinking ‘ my grama sings better than everyone else’
Those threads of blessing and light were definitely there in my life. Perhaps made all more blessed by those ‘threads’ that were not. Like you shared while meditating… that all that happened in your life seemed to happen exactly as it was suppose to or was perfect as it was, paraphrased hope I got it right, so too I have moments where I can see and feel this also. Fleeting, but with age less fleeting and seen more often as with a purpose that involves a mystery my finite mind and existence couldn’t understand if I was told, at least on this side of things. I have lived in The Valley of Hearts Delight since I was two yrs old. Los Gatos/ San Jose area. There was a time I could ride a horse from the mountains into town crossing orchards and meadows only, one would be cited or get killed if they tried the same thing now.. progress in this way sucks badly in my estimation. I am working on writing … the book.. it is coming out in stories of different times, coming to me in pieces of no certain order and I almost feel possessed or obsessed and can’t not do it feeling frustrated that I need to eat or use the bthrm, if this makes sense. I see my being laid off as a gift of proportions my initial shock and fear could in no way see nor could I have never orchestrated with all my best scheming, plotting and planning. It amazes me now to consider how this has worked out for not just myself but in lives of others at the same time. Whats the lesson purpose and plan I have been asking…. ultimately what is your will for my life is my question to my Higher Power. And it seems the answers are showing up as if by special delivery in my mailbox daily. Most amazing of all is that nothing has changed outside of me, the change, sense of purpose and meaning I feel comes from a healed and healing place inside me. Anyway I have rambled all over the place but really want to say Thank you for being the warrior and messenger who leads by example. Never because it’s been easy but by choice. Your Sage wisdom as Melancholyj said so perfectly continues to bring Blessing to so many. With Love and Gratitude, Denise
Thanks again for all the kind words; this site means so much to me. But as many, I have a hard time receiving compliments. They kind of whoosh by, like they’re meant for someone else — but not me. My very favorite books to write are the ones where I write pieces, and then have the challenge of stringing or putting them together like a jigsaw puzzle They really hold my interest. Sometimes I don’t see the “book” until I write the last chapter, and see the intended form. On the other hand, I love the challenge I’m facing now — of writing teleplays and screenplays. Gotta get a blog up today — I promised. Good talking to you. Melody
Dearest Denise, thank you so much for your warm hugs and even warmer words. I owe you a proper response, and I wanted to stop by to assure you that it’s coming, but I’ve been swamped for the last few days and am struggling to catch up. I also had a strange, unexpected opportunity come my way yesterday, and now that’s eating away at my time (but it’s a really good thing. No details at the moment because I don’t want to jinx it). Anyway, I promise to be back in touch as soon as possible! In the meantime, just wanted to let you know that you are in my thoughts. Hugs right back at you.
Dearest Melancholyj, Woo hoo! is what I say to your unexpected opportunity and no do not jinx it.. I really get what you mean there. Life gets busy, sometimes more than we can barely manage. I have my days of doing what I now call a face plant on my bed where until just a year or so ago I’d be thinking 2 or 3 hours of sleep no problem I can do this.. no more.. those days are history now. But in it’s place what I find I may lack in endurance I am learning to make for by working smarter… and for God’s sake it’s about time!!! Anyway glad your keeping on keeping dear girl, that’s all that matters:) Take Good Care of you and write when it works. More Hugs being sent your way. With Love, Denise
Sorry, Denise, I originally missed your post here. Thanks so much for the “woo hoo,” the hugs, and the love. They mean more than you know. Love and hugs back at you, again. How is everything going with your brother? Did you find out anything more about amending the sentence based on the three-strikes law overturn? I’ve been thinking about you a lot.
Since it’s been raining off and on out here in Chester County, which is a western suburb of Philadelphia and my ability to work depends on the weather….I’m a gardening contractor and designer….I have a little time to read and share on this site. Lots of interesting revelations and I want to say “thanks” to Denise for her kind words and all she’s shared.How fortunate for all of us who have found this website for the opportunity not only to connect with this community, but to have the gift of personal input from Ms. Beattie herself. Melody, you are wise and generous person and I pray your recouperation is on target. BTW…..The Stones rock!! Aside from everything over which I am powerless in this life and a huge area in that category is my son…I am grateful for everything, without judgement and take none of it for granted as it’s ALL a gift. I remain grateful for all the ordinary things which can so easily be taken for granted and not acknowledged. I just want to share how blessed I feel and how much gratitude I have for everything. Was watchin TODAY which was airing from Seaside Heights, New Jersey which was devastated from hurricaine Sandy last year. They have rebuilt and are expecting a hugely profitable and joyous summer season starting with this Memorial Day weekend. The group FUN was on singing some of their noteworthy songs and I became teary eyed. “Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast”….not sure who said that but I remember people sharing here about the healing power of music. Just the contrast of where the little shore town of Seaside Heights was in November or 2012 to where it is today shows the power of the willingness to rebuild and and the courage to follow through. I feel that I must accept that challenge on a daily basis to stay spiritually fit and remain grateful for everything just as it is. I must relinquish any fear and tripidation to a Power Greater than myself as that is my undoing if I turn down that darkest of roads. The residents of the New Jersey areas devasted from Sandy took on the monumental job of rebuilding without fear and just moved forward in faith and today have start yet another summer season. The people of Oklahoma are just beginning this journey and I offer my most humble of prayers for their monumental task at hand. Thanks for letting me share and peace to all. loulou
Good to hear from you again and “Amen.” Melody
Hey Loulou so that’s where you live:) It is so interesting for me to learn where in this world we are each speaking from. I live in Silicon Valley in Calif. It is grey and cloudy looks like it threatening rain out there… hardly the usual Spring weather I have known having lived here for 55 yrs. Thank you for sharing about the rebuilding of Seaside Heights and with you my thoughts and prayers are with the victims of the devastating tornado that hit Oklahoma in the same town… again, as I learned on a program last night. I lived through the Loma Prieta Earthquake in 89, living in the mtns and 5 miles from the epicenter. It was very frightening, my kids wouldn’t sleep in the house for a month, insisted on sleeping in the car. Our house got trashed inside but remained standing and structurally sound. Your share painted a picture of what we can do, here on this site, in meetings, within our families and jobs, reach out in what ever capacity we are able to and lend support to one another. Glad to hear your’e keeping your serenity and keeping on keeping on. I really admire the strength of character you share here. Good to ‘ see’ you. Denise
That is so awesome! What a great experience/memory to share with your daughter too:) Music is such a healer. Sometimes we can get some satisfaction
Rock on.
It brings back such great memories — of a different time, a different me, but they definitely provided the background (and sometimes foreground) music for much of my life.
I love how you put that… the back ground and foreground music for your life. I heard a song on a tv show today I hadn’t heard in years ( Cat Stevens, I listen to the wind of my soul) took me back in 1.2 seconds to a happy and hopeful time in my life. It was yesterday and another life time ago all at the same time. I felt the happiness… it was sweet.
Dear Melody, please disregard my last statement above, on May 21, 2013, 6:05am your time. I found what I was asking about….above as I submitted an inquiry about it….sorry, but I didn’t see it when I first opened up this site! Jan
Hi Melody, I wrote to you on this site a few days ago and it was accepted, but as I look through the list of letters, I don’t see it anywhere? I’m curious as to why it was on one day, and gone the next? Can you help me with this? Thank You, Jan
Hi Melody, Hope you’re feeling stronger, healthier, and recovering, better than ever!? I wrote to you a couple weeks ago about moving on from a past relationship, I was in for 13 years! Last Sunday after much thought and contemplation, I realized I had to “cut the chords,” of this person right now, in this moment of my life, or I will never fully heal! As I wrote an e-mail to her and did this, after all was said and done, I had a couple different feelings about this….1.) I felt a sense of empowerment, that was much needed, 2.)…. I also sensed a feeling of remorse and angst about it, because I felt as though I just left behind so much a part of me and our time together, it was so finalizing!! A very strange feeling of closing a door came over me. I hope you know what I’m trying to say, here? I then began to cry, and cry so hard as though someone had died and I will never see them again…! Anyway, I just needed to express these feelings, knowing if anyone would understand them, it would be you, Melody! Thank you for your “Grief Club Forum,” and again, many blessings to you, and all you do for us on here. Namaste, Jan
Ending relationships is a time to grieve — even if the relationship isn’t working for us now. Obviously — at some point – we received something from that relationship. It was part of our path; part of us. Thanks for sharing. Melody
Hi, everyone. I am new to this community, though I am far from new to grief. My whole life has been grief–it’s the only reality I’ve known. I was born to an exceptionally mentally ill mother who, as a result of her numerous pathologies (crippling OCD, borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, hoarding, and addictions), was both physically and emotionally abusive. The environment was dysfunctional even beyond the abuse. My brother and I were never allowed to sleep on beds; rather, we slept in sleeping bags on the hardwood floor of our modest dining room. (My mother, as afflicted as she was, slept in my brother’s old crib). The kitchen was also off limits to everyone but her, and if she found evidence that we had trespassed (fingerprints on the refrigerator, etc.), she would bash our heads against the wall, then hang us upside down above the staircase, threatening to drop us to our deaths. Sometimes, when we were really desperate, we would still take the chance of getting caught–because it was either that or starve for days while she lay in a narcotic-induced coma, and we had no one to take care of us. My father escaped when we were young. He never looked back. His children weren’t worth the dysfunction. And we knew no other family. All we had was the mentally ill monster who reminded us daily how much we were despised. Coping was an infinite struggle. I never did turn to drugs, but I developed a different addiction: self-mutilation. Cutting my arms with razor blades. Burning my legs with lighters. One time, when I was really hurting, I took a blow-dryer, turned it on to its highest setting, and held it to my cheek for 30 seconds. Between the injuries from my mother’s abuse and the wounds from my own self-abuse, you can bet that Child Protective Services and the police played a big role in my childhood. But, somehow, I was always lured back to the hostile environment that was home. In retrospect, I probably could have escaped to foster care long-term, but my mother’s threats of more severe repercussions if I expressed candor to the authorities was enough to quiet my naive, terrified mind. And so I lied…and so I suffered. My brother did the same. Then I went away to college (for which I paid entirely on my own; that’s another story entirely). An escape. Finally. But also, a whirlwind, a chaos of normalcy for which I was so ill prepared. I was 18 years old, and I had never used a microwave. I didn’t know how to make a bed. I couldn’t operate a washer or dryer. My peers were stupefied. I was like a rare, exotic specimen, a complete functional anomaly. I didn’t know where to start. I was totally lost and confused in a world that seemed completely alien, both strangely comforting and yet unsettling at the same time. Slowly, with the help of a strong circle of friends, I adjusted. One step at a time. For the first time in my life, I began to feel…normal. Almost. I dissociated from my past; I lived in the present, and I began to actually care and think about my future. Somehow, I also managed to break the addiction of self-harm. And with these great strides, I started to feel free. Invincible. ON TOP OF THE WORLD. As if I had conquered all of my demons, forever. And all on my own. In my mind, I had developed the strength to persevere by simply repressing the past and focusing on everything after, without any sort of therapy. I felt unstoppable, uncontrollable, but in a positive way. And, amazingly, that feeling of invincibility, freedom, and complete dissociation from the past lasted for several years. I had no real family, but I’d convinced myself that my supportive network of friends was enough. But, eventually, things happened that left me lost and far behind. As I progressed through my 20s, I watched every last person in my social network go through the seemingly normal stages in life that were so foreign to me–relationship, marriage, birth, etc. And yet I, still lacking the advanced skills to tackle these stages (mastering the microwave and washer/dryer was difficult and novel enough), remained alone. I stood by passively as my entire support network seemed to slowly dissipate, piece by piece, marriage by marriage, until I realized I was completely alone. (No, these friends hadn’t completely disappeared from my life, but in the context of major life events, I ended up as everyone’s last priority–which felt horribly depressing and lonely). And then, during this crucial time of depression, loneliness, and feeling left behind…Mother’s Day arrived. Mother’s Day–and, to be honest, the weeks leading up to it–has always left me bereft and with feelings of intense sadness, even during my years of dissociation. No matter what my state of mind, this time of year never ceases to bring me back to the dark place that was my childhood, no matter how ephemeral the feelings may be. Except, this year, somehow, the feelings are anything but ephemeral. This year, I’ve felt suffocated by the darkness for not weeks, but for months. This year, I’ve spent many waking moments contemplating the futility of life, particularly my own, and wishing I could not be alive somehow. This year, I’ve been weighed down by an enduring, soul-crushing desperation that I just can’t seem to conquer. And this year, as I’m ashamed to admit, I’ve relapsed into the old, unhealthy, self-injurious habits that I once used to help me through the pain…even though they were truly hurting me…and continue to hurt me. I can’t say for sure why this year is so different from the past, why I’m suddenly enveloped by such inimical darkness, why the future all of a sudden seems bleak and baleful and I don’t want to live anymore. I don’t know why I was able to plod along for so long while feeling so in control, so dissociated from my past. Maybe it’s because, now, I finally feel like I’ve truly lost my support system…to a joy I’ve never experienced. Maybe it’s because I finally have developed the harsh realization that I’ll never know how to maintain a healthy relationship. Maybe it’s because I just turned 30 and am simultaneously struggling with an existential crisis, as my reality is so far from what I’d ever imagined it’d be at this age. And maybe it’s…a combination of these things, and more. The etiology of my pain is far more perplex than I can entirely grasp, but I know it’s there, and it’s more palpable than anything I’ve ever felt before. So, there’s my grief…well, just a sliver of it. There’s much more, but I’ve rambled on long enough in my very first, introductory post, which is already overwhelming. So, my apologies. But, there it is. And here I am….in darkness, and hoping to climb out of it. But I’m also here to *give* support. I’ve been through a lot, and my empathy is vast. So I hope that we can all help each other. Much love to you all.
Thanks you for your very brave and vulnerable share. Wow. It’s more than I can imagine. I do not know how you survived. The cutting substitutes as a way of feeling pain that goes beyond our ability to feel. Why our old, repressed grief begins to choose when to emerge is beyond me — but I know this: feelings don’t go away; and grief has a life of its own. I hope you take advantage of this site to begin releasing those old emotions in a ways that’s more than survival, and that allows you to begin to thrive. You have much, emotionally, to overcome. A support group would be great — but it would have to be with people you really trust. I was so skilled at disconnecting from my emotions. I could “think” my way through anything – no matter how much it hurt. I could disconnect from my emotions. Until, one day, when I couldn’t. The real trigger for me connecting with my emotions is when my son died. I lost my ability to think my way through things and had to learn to feel. I cried for eight years. I’m not glad you need to be here, but I am glad you are here. It sounds like you’re looking for a way to create a healthy life, and I believe you will succeed. Bst, Melody
Thanks so much for responding, Melody. The experience you describe with your e-motions — about being able to disconnect from them until one day, all of a sudden, you can’t — is exactly my struggle now. I really did think for a long time that I was truly recovered from the trauma, that I could do it all on my own, that I didn’t need therapy. Now, I wish I had sought support so long ago. I feel overwhelming shame as I listlessly watch every last one of my friends withdraw from my world as they soar through the milestones of a “normal” life — as I wallow in my grief, wondering if I’ll ever know love, or even just trust, in another person. I think about the future and all I’m left with is a sense of meaningless and dread. I’m currently looking for a therapist, but you’re right in that a support group would be helpful, as I can connect with others who are perhaps as broken as I am, and we can help one another pick up the fallen pieces. Unfortunately, it seems that the majority of support groups available are for addiction — and while I have addictive behaviors (the cutting, eating disorders, etc.), they are simply manifestations of the underlying issue, which is the trauma. I’ll keep searching. Thank you for your compassion.
I started a response to your post and lost it — so if two appear, that’s why. I wanted to add two ideas. While I despise pushing my books on my sites because these sites are meant to be service sites, not sales sites, the book, “Make Miracles in 40 Days” might be helpful to you right now. Now, I don’t think you’ll be completely transformed in 40 days, but I do think the activity in it (it takes ten minutes a day) will be helpful to you. And you can get the book for free at the library – you don’t have to buy it. I also have a website devoted to it, for support, at http://www.MelodyBeattie.org. The other thing that occurred to me is a trauma therapy I used that really helped. It’s quick, not very expensive, and very effective: HDMR. (Hope I got the initials right.) It uses rapid eye movement to unlock trauma from our bodies. What you’re about to go through will be very similar to cleansing a wound — it will likely hurt more when you dig into this, before you begin feeling better. But when you start feeling better, I believe it will be for real this time. Also, your wounds run deep — and may stay close to you for many years. But I don’t believe they have to stop you from experiencing joy and a full life. Affirmations, creative visualization — all those activities won’t help until we get the old “gunk” out first. It’s like putting wallpaper on a wall that has fifteen layers of old wallpaper on it. It won’t stick. We have to cleanse the wall first. I believe there’s a reason you began this process now, a good one. Damn, the horrors you went through are so severe. I rarely tell this to people, but you may want to think about writing a book, a story, about your experiences as a way of getting it out and to sell — if it’s something that interests you. You express yourself well in writing. Did you read “A Child (or Boy) Called It?” I may be off on the title, but if you haven’t read it, you should. I think it would empower you to write your story. The publishing industry generally isn’t wild to publish books about abuse — plus there has been a lot of selling true stories that weren’t (true) just to make money. But I believe you could sell your book. I believe you can write it too. I know that he writing would help purge your emotions, or be a part of the process. I generally advise wannabe writers not to write for money, as there are no guarantees. But if ever I’ve heard a story where someone deserves to capitalize on their childhood pain, this is one. You would deserve every cent you made. These are just some ideas. Maybe when the urge to cut hits you, you could sit down and write — and see what happens. Anyway, some things to think about. I’m still overwhelmed by your story. How is your brother doing? Melody
Hi, Melody! Thanks again for your swift response. I appreciate your thoughtful insights…and all that you have done to channel your own grief into creating a wealth of support for those of us still grieving. With respect to your book, I understand that you’re not trying to make a sale and are only trying to help — and I appreciate it. I have read some of your other books (“Codepent No More” and “Beyond Codependency ) after a recommendation from a friend, who suggested that my grief might stem from an unresolved codependency on the idea of my mother, although we are estranged. I’m not sure that was entirely the case, but nevertheless, your words truly spoke to me, and that’s how I learned of you and discovered this site. So, I will most certainly seek out your book, “Make Miracles in 40 Days.” I’m not sure I believe in miracles per se, at least in a literal sense, but I am sure that I will once again be inspired by your writings. Thank you for the website suggestion as well. You do so much! Re: the trauma therapy…I think you mean EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing?). I learned of it years ago in one of my college psychology classes. It is used primarily to treat PTSD, but I never thought of trying it myself because my take-away was that its effectiveness was controversial, likely psychosomatic, and based purely on anecdotal rather than empirical evidence. You mentioned that it really helped you, though. I am curious to hear (read) more about your experience with it and how it helped. Exposure therapies truly terrify me, but you are right, any recovery process will inevitably cause me to hurt more before I feel better. I like your metaphor of cleansing a wound. It is deeply compelling. Finally, it’s funny that you should mention “A Child Called It” and that I should write my story. I read the book when I was very young, as I had heard that I could relate to it; as soon as I finished the book, I vowed to write my own memoir someday. But that someday was when going to be when I had finally conquered my demons, had prevailed in life, had become a success story….so that my story had an ending The ending of “A Child Called It” is heartwarming — the author lets go of his anguish and serendipitously finds, in his editor, a functional, loving relationship that helps him through recovery. My story has yet to end on a heartwarming note. Who would want to read a book in which the beginning is the very same as the end (suffering)? I will still persevere, though. I WILL write my memoir…once I find my ending. It’s taken me much longer than I ever imagined it would…but it will happen. And, you’re right — writing is deeply cathartic. When I was a child, I would often lose myself in poetry. I was prolific, and I even won awards for creative writing. In more recent years, I’ve focused a lot more energy on writing music…but it is still writing, still cathartic. My dream is to get to a place where this catharsis need not be supplemented by self-harm. When I DO get to this place, and when I do finally feel like I have a heartwarming ending to my story, I will certainly give you credit for inspiration and support. Finally, you asked about my brother. Unfortunately, he is far more broken than I ever was. He developed a lot of the same pathologies that my mother has–whether by nature or nurture, or a combination of both, we’ll never know. He tried to live away from home briefly in college, but was quickly kicked out of the dorms when he became violent with a roommate who merely touched his soda bottle in the refrigerator (same severe OCD as my mother). He moved back in with my mother and managed to graduate college, but he’s a mess. Two suicide attempts, in and out of mental hospitals, self-mutilating, all kinds of deviant behavior. We no longer speak because my mother threatened to kick him out of the house if he continued communication with me. He is not functional enough to live on his own. It has been a sad path. I suppose I can be grateful that my path has been different. Thanks for everything!
Thanks for the correction about EMDR. I was too tired to get up and research. I am often (usually) skeptical of “fixes” — but this one came at the right time and I found it highly effective. Am coming to believe that PTSD plays a much greater negative role in many of our lives than we know, and accounts for many of the disturbing emotions, habits and behaviors we find ourselves doing. One more thought: maybe the way you’ll find your happy ending is by writing your book. It may well come when you get to that point. I feel strongly about this, or I wouldn’t be pushing (“this” referring to you writing your story/memoir). I usually tell people the opposite: don’t write memoirs, they don’t sell, don’t write to heal yourself, heal yourself first so you have take-home value for others. I say these things because they’re true — most of the time. But for every rule there is an exception and I believe you may be one. It (writing your story) may be the equivalent to writing your thesis for a Master’s Degree in Life; your grade may be the receiving of insights and joy. I don’t like to push; I have a “say in three times and then let it go” rule. So this is my second time with you, regarding writing your story. But if you were to ask everyone who ever read and posted on my sites — and the people I’ve talked to about writing — they would tell you they’ve not heard me push this strongly, twice. So head’s up — you have one more push coming from me. Put it in your “head” computer. Let it be. See what happens. You are an intelligent woman and you didn’t go through what you did for no reason. It may be in finding that reason that you begin to find your peace — no, not peace. Joy. Best, Melody
PS – Often that which I most strongly resist is usually that which I most need to do. Melody
Thanks, Melody. Once again, your words are comforting and inspiring. And, as I said, I do find catharsis in writing. It’s certainly a more productive purge than cutting, a way to bleed metaphorically rather than literally. I’m going to take your advice to heart. And having a goal (this goal being to tell my story) makes the future seem less bleak. You’re incredibly wise.
Sounds good to me. Thanks for contacting me and please keep me up to speed. MELODY
The message about April that appeared here was/is meant for Vicki. Hope I didn’t confuse you. I copied and pasted it below. So Vicki — if you come ’round again, I sent a name and phone number of someone for you to contact that may be a “next step” in your journey. Best, Melody (If you guys see Vicki around the site, please tell her to check by her last post.) Best, Melody
Melancholyj, I just read you post… and I am so glad that you shared and that Melody created this place for your story to come to light, it needed to. I whole heartedly agree with Melody’s urging for you to write your memoir. Your experiences reminded me of A Boy Called It, also. I was thinking as I read about you waiting for a happy ending To write your story… that the happy ending will show it itself in the writing of it. Your story somewhat reminded me of a Glass Castle and It’s all Over But the Shouting, also. I felt incredibly sad reading what you and your brother went through…. while at the same time feeling utterly amazed at your brilliance, and resolute tenacious ability to soldier on go to college, create a support network and ‘family’ for yourself and all that you did to create a life for yourself. I put what happened in my life ‘behind’ me too…or so I thought until at about the same age you are I hit the wall and the symptoms of all I had survived began to make themselves known. I attended Al-Anon, Women’s groups, seminars, had a gifted and loving counselor who I saw for 5 years, went to a chiropractor who was a healer, was in the first control group for EMDR , attended an incest survivors group and read everything I could get my hands on about Recovery which to me means becoming habilitated… not re-habilitated. I hope I am not stepping over any boundaries but I want to respectfully encourage you to write your story. I want to say that the power to inspire, bring hope and understanding speaks to the miracle that YOU are. In the same way that all that Melody has written over the years has brought hope and healing to so many, so too, what you have to say will also. You have a unique ability to shed light on circumstances that only your voice and talents can. I hear your pain… anyone who reads your post would have to be inhuman not to. You didn’t survive for nothing, what you have done to continue surviving is not in vain. I have a brother who has not fared well either. He called me from jail yesterday, he was sentenced to 12 years and will be eligible to get out in 10 years. But my point in bringing this is up Melancholyj is how hearing his voice and what he said affected me. I felt guilty and angry. The old tapes started… why why why all the same old questions started churning in that place that wants to make sense of insanity but can’t. I ended up getting out of my pj’s and buying ice cream that I really didn’t want and that really didn’t taste good… because what I wanted was for my brother not to be going back to prison again and no amount of ice cream or alcohol as I entertained buying this too was going to change it. I laid down in my bed continued reading Making Miracles in 40 Days, prayed and actually had a good nights sleep. I have been practicing the exercises Melody speaks of in this book and I have to say it is kind of errie how exactly what I need seems to ‘appear’ exactly when I need it. I am finding the exercise takes on a life of it’s own and in subtle and very interesting ways I feel a shift happening… more on this later as it happens. When my counselor asked if I would participate in the EMDR I thought it sounded goofy but because I trusted her I did it. It really does help. The intense replay of emotions around traumatic events no longer has the power to send one spiraling down ‘as if’ it just happened again. Most of all I want to say I am glad you found this site and are here. I am praying that what you need will come to you. Thank you for sharing and know that what you have said is heard and that you matter more than you know. Denise
Couldn’t say it better myself, Denise. Your presence really blesses this site, and has contributed to making it a safe place, toll-free, for people in pain who want more out of life. Best, Melody
Denise: Thank you for your inspirational message. I actually had not heard of the other two books you mentioned–”Glass Castle” and “It’s all Over But the Shouting.” I briefly read their descriptions on Amazon.com, and they do seem relevant. It’s amazing how many people suffer through such dysfunction and abuse and not only survive, but thrive. It does give me a glimpse of hope for my own journey. I am taking to heart your and Melody’s encouragement to write my story; I actually have some ideas already on where to start. The struggle is in climbing far enough out of this darkness, this void of meaninglessness and inhibition, to actually be productive. Many days it is a struggle just to get out of my bed in the morning and brush my teeth…let alone excel at work. I do think that counseling, perhaps EMDR, and support groups–if I can find any, as there seems to be a dearth of them in my area–will be a start. Oh, and of course, Melody’s books. It seems like you have been through quite a painful journey yourself, but you’ve clearly come a long way in becoming, as you aptly expressed, “habilitated” (not rehabilitated). I’m very sorry to learn of your most recent misfortune: your brother’s incarceration. I can’t imagine how difficult that must be for you to cope with; 10 years can seem like an eternity. But this is a situation that is entirely beyond your control. You didn’t put your brother in prison, and you unfortunately can’t get him out. The only thing that *is* in your control is your reaction to the experience. And it sounds like, by practicing the positive exercises, you are on the right path to overcoming the guilt and anger, which should not be your burden to bear. But as we all know, grieving is a long, complex, multiple-step process, and so my heart goes out to you as you endure your newest pain. I don’t believe in a higher power (which makes a lot of recovery exercises difficult and irrelevant to me), but know that you are in my thoughts. I really appreciate that you reached out to me even during your own battles. I’m truly fortunate to have discovered this site…and the people who shape the gem that it is. We are all connected.
Just one comment: you have a right o believe or not believe in a HP, or let your HP be whatever you want. That’s why they worded it “Higher Power.” This is a “come as you are” process, not a “come as we think you should be” process. Just be you, and it will work out. I promise. Melody Beattie
Thanks, Melody. In terms of recovery, it just seems that many (if not most) programs are based on the 12 steps, which are very religious and reflect a world view that doesn’t resonate with me. But I’m having a difficult time finding a local “adult children of abuse”-type support group, anyway.
I really believe you’ll find what’s right for you if you begin looking. As much as many would like it to be so, life — including recovery — isn’t a one-size-fits-all. We also have the benefit of many online groups now too, as well as groups in our area. Your story is so sensitive that you’re going to want to be selective and protective of yourself, anyway. But I know you will find the support you need once you begin seeking it. I call my blog “Living in the Mystery” because one of the hardest things for me to do is trust what I don’t know yet, instead of relying only on what I know. Answers will come — often when and where I least expect them. Melody
I was also giving more thought to the book idea and had one very important question: how does one write a candid memoir when all of the subjects (particularly my “family”) are still alive? My mother was a horrible person to me, but she was (is) extremely mentally ill, which is out of her control. It runs in the family; her own brother committed suicide when he was a teenager, and I’m sure that helped shape her demons. And then there is my brother who, despite his impairments, was–like myself–an innocent victim of the abuse and dysfunction. My story would be incomplete without the contribution of his experience, including his own self-injury, suicide attempts, OCD, mental hospitalizations, and extremely deviant behaviors. Despite his struggle, and despite the fact that we are estranged, I feel it would be unfair to risk besmirching his reputation so publicly (I am willing to air my secrets for the sake of comforting others; not sure he would be quite as willing.) So, my question is, how do we balance the fine line between candor of the story and potential destruction of identities?
In all my books — with the exception of one person who insisted I use her name — I have disguised the identity of people. There are many ways to approach your story, from adding more family members, fictionalizing your work, changing where you live/lived — many people do it. You are right though — we don’t have the right to break other people’s right to privacy. But there are ways to tell a story without doing that. You might benefit from getting involved with a writer’s support group. Melody
One of the most powerful and attractive things that brought me back to AL-Anon was that I was given permission for the first time in my life to believe or not believe feel or not feel whatever was right for me. I have nothing but absolute respect for every human being to determine where their sense of support and encouragement comes from. Not doing so can be hurtful negative and divisive so I am glad you remind us all Melody. Noted and Thank you for the love and respect inherent in so doing.
Thanks Denise. I feel that all of us — including me — have such difficulty finding our way, how could we even presume to think we should tell anyone else how to think or feel — other than to encourage people to be who they are. Best, Melody
Thanks, Melody and Denise. I’ve already begun seeking…and have yet to find any answers, although I need to learn the art of patience. Recovery doesn’t happen overnight. My brain knows this, but my heart longs for the quixotic.
So often, I’ll know I’m looking for something — but don’t have a clue where or how to find it. Then I get to thinking I have to “control it” to have that experience. I’m always blown away when I let go — and what I’m looking for just transpires, organically — but like you said, not overnight. It’s true, also, that a watched pot doesn’t boil. Best, Melody
We are all connected as you said and this site proves. Thank you again for sharing your story and your journey and also for your response about my brother. I get what you said about a life time of coping with grief in my own version. My sister has mental illness, my mother terrorized her children and the repercussions at times have felt over whelming. My brother was released after doing 16 years in prison 5 years ago and life out here was very difficult and challenging for him. Before my brother got out I felt paralyzed with fear about him coming ‘home’ to our mother’s house. I shared about some of the truths and reasons why in an Al-Anon group one night and you could have heard a pin drop. I am not a boo hooer but the tears poured down my face as I shredded a tissue someone gave me and finally spoke some of the truths about how hideous it felt and was to be a child in this family. I was the oldest child and felt that my siblings were my children and tried to protect and take care of them. My mother locked up food and we were punished for ‘stealing ‘ food. We would spend hours sitting on the floor in the hall way until the ‘guilty party confessed. If they didn’t and more than one time this was me the other 3 got punished also. Food intake was closely monitored, grocery receipts were put up on the refrigerator and we were reminded about the cost of food and how lucky we were to have it daily. We hid food in our bedrooms and though she found wrappers etc we just learned to find other ways to do the same thing. What I realized that night as I spoke was that I felt that my brother was safer in prison than he was coming home. I was overwhelmed with guilt and shame and fear for having said these things out loud, I felt embarrassed and raw for having exposed myself.. but an amazing thing happened that night. I saw tears on the faces of other human beings in that room as they listened, I learned that while being held hostage growing up and wondering why no one saw or heard or cared or would help us, this wasn’t true. I experienced the empathy of other hurting people. One man came up to me afterward and said my wife’s story is like yours. She is still suffering and that is part of the reason I am here. I understand how difficult it was to say what you did it took courage to share your story, I am so sorry for all you and your siblings went through. There was a point in my childhood where I called Child Protective Services to come and get us. I understand what you said about the options one has. It basically backfired, I was told I needed to try to understand how difficult things were for my mother and we were sent back home ( this was 1972 or 73). Being separated from a sibling or siblings can be yet one more trauma. Even though your living conditions may be improved, you feel more not less alienated in many ways. No matter what direction you turn as a child you are helpless to change or fix what is so obviously wrong. I left the day I turned 18. I left my younger brother and sister behind. I felt relieved for myself and horrible for leaving them. They were bereft and very upset with me, and threw some of my belongings on the front lawn. Whatever relief I felt for finally being able to leave was quickly swallowed up with guilt and concern for them. My brother just 11 mths younger than I had been given the option to go to the boys ranch or enlist in the Army, as he became an over night black out drinker when our father died, so he was away at Fort Ord at this time. We all made our escape as soon as we were able to, while trying to convince ourselves each in their own way that we really weren’t leaving the other or others behind and feeling guilty and selfish for doing so. Not exactly a happy launching into ones adult life but one dictated by survival instinct I know today. In my case Melancholyj there was family everywhere but they were afraid of our mother, so while they understood what we were living with, because these people were her siblings, in reality their hands were tied to make the changes I believed they could have and should have then. I carried huge resentments towards some of them until in my own adult life I was faced with similar situations and understood how few the options were. Sometimes removing a child can be worse than not doing so. Not all people can understand this but for those who have come from situations of severe dysfunction I know they understand the ramifications I’m speaking of. My brother called me yesterday and he was calm and rational as I knew he would eventually be. I knew what all his anger and resentment was about i his previous call when I told him: you needed to have stayed away from mom and he responded: I should have stayed away from her from the day I was born. I said this is true but you had a choice to stay away this time and you didn’t and there you are. I have never spoken to my brother this way, but I was clear about what I would and would not listen to for myself. I could validate his feelings but I would not add fuel to the fire of that which I know does not serve his well being. In my mind he is the face of many in our very broken prison systems and why. A whole other story though. It is a struggle of immense proportions to crawl out of the darkness and meaningless that you described, and getting out of bed during these times and brushing your teeth and going to work is a victory worthy of a medal. I walked through many days where I woke up and the nightmare started not stopped is how it felt. But I have to say I am glad I had a job to go to, it allowed me to have 8 or 9 hours of distraction and that many less hours to feel before I could go to sleep, which was the only relief during those times there was. But things did get better, little by little day by day even though I was unaware that this was happening, it was. I cried for almost 3 years and feared I would never stop. I had barely shed a tear for decades because as you said when one puts the reason for such tears behind them they can not see the light of day nor can we experience the cleansing they are meant to provide and will, when the flood gates finally open. It certainly didn’t feel like this when it was happening but I know today every tear spoke of unexpressed grief and loss that was being acknowledged for what it was. I want to again agree wholeheartedly with what Melody said about being selective and protective of yourself. If something doesn’t feel right for you that is your call to make. I say this while at the same time knowing again as Melody so perfectly stated we aren’t bubbled wrapped or protected and yet we survive and thrive, can and do take care of ourselves and others, work and go on, and it is obvious you are a survivor and can navigate where you need to and take care of yourself. I had a lot of emotion surface while writing what I did about my family also, but it was more like feeling it move through me then move on. I am finding this to be one of the benefits of doing the exercise in Make Miracles in 40 Days. The shift of ‘how’ I feel the old stuff is different… seems to be moving me along the path of integration rather than feeling stuck and held hostage for prolonged periods of time. I deeply appreciate all you have shared, thank you and know you are being sent thoughts of encouragement and hope.
Thanks for your share. I was drinking black-out, alcoholically by the time I was twelve. I also started counting exactly how many days until I turned eighteen and could leave. On my 18th birthday — I was still in high school, but only needed to attend two hours a day as I had the rest of my credits and worked instead — I had already purchased a car, taught myself to drive a stick shift, and then rented a furnished apartment. So I came home after my two-hour class, packed up two paper bags of belongings and left. I made it — out! my brother and sisters were all “half-siblings” and older than I am, so it was like two families. They all left the day they turned 18, too. Some dysfunctional families stay close and torture ach other, others head for the hills. But to a child, a parent is, or means, survival. To be taken away and have the system disrupted — especially without follow-up help — can be difficult and damaging, too. But there are moments, when I meditate, that I see the absolute perfection in everything that has happened in my life. Anyway, I’m feeling on top of the world, even though I’m stiff and sore from last night. That concert was so good. Best, Melody
Didn’t and don’t mean to make light of your story — as it haunts me. I would like to see it as a movie. Do you know that still, today — every single day in the United States, five children die from child abuse. Four of them are under the age of five. I cannot believe that the message hasn’t permeated the culture more. We got off to a good start, expanding consciousness, teaching people, then it all seemed to dissolve. I don’t know when, where and how it went wrong, but it did. It needs to head in the right direction again. Melody
My first tangible abuse incident (not the ambiguous, family torture) happened when I was four, and was abducted off the street by a stranger a few doors down from my home. The police retrieved me, later, naked on the floor while the guy played Davy Crockett on the organ. He had taken me to an abandoned church. The incident was never mentioned again. So many people think the abuse is over when the screaming, torture, hitting, etc. stops. It’s not. It doesn’t end until we clear it out of ourselves. Melody
Denise: Wow. I am deeply moved by your story, especially because it so profoundly parallels mine. One thing I hadn’t mentioned is that, in addition to being a narcotic addict (which my father actually enabled by prescribing pills to her as a physician), my mother was painfully addicted to plastic surgery. Every other week, she would have some type of procedure, despite the fact that she was severely allergic to anesthesia and would become incapacitated for days at a time. Between her reaction to the surgeries and her overdoses on narcotics, it wasn’t uncommon for her to be sprawled out on the floor in a comatose heap for nearly a week, and my brother and I would have to care for her. She was thankless, of course, but during these times she was also incapable of abuse…and “incapable of abuse” is as close to feeling loved as we ever experienced. Anyway, due to my mother’s debilitating OCD, many areas of the house, including the kitchen, were off-limits to us; as I’d mentioned, the penalties for trespassing were severe. But if we didn’t break the rules, we would starve. While we became quite masterful at masking our finger- and footprints, somehow, we would always get caught. But it didn’t matter anymore. I had adapted so much to the beatings that I didn’t feel them anymore. I was numb. And that’s when I started the self-injury–to feel something, anything. Soon, I adapted to that, too. I slit my wrists multiple times. I slipped into a vicious cycle of eating disorders that involved starving myself for days punctuated by periods of binging and purging. These behaviors, while dysfunctional, gave me a sense of control when I couldn’t control anything else. (I think that’s why I never turned to drugs to cope. The state of being high or drunk felt like the opposite of control.) Like you, I also had many dealings with Child Protective Services. And I had many chances to speak up and escape forever. But the idea of normalcy, a world outside of dysfunction, terrified me. I wasn’t ready for it. It seemed uncomfortable. And so I kept going back. It was like a form of Stockholm syndrome, in which a hostage feels loyal to her captor. Eventually, when I was 18 and graduating from high school, I took the leap of a lifetime and never looked back. It was like being tossed into an ocean without knowing how to swim and helplessly struggling to stay afloat–but, slowly, I was able to emerge from the waves. Thank you again for your inspiration, your wisdom, and your words of encouragement. I don’t mean to pry, but may I ask why your brother was/is in prison? Does it have to do with a confrontation with your mother?
I’m sorry that you had to endure such a frightening and tangible abuse experience. I’ve never been abducted, so I can’t relate, only empathize. Well, actually, I did have a tangentially similar experience just last year. I met my friend for karaoke downtown and–as we love to sing–we were at the bar until 2 a.m., when it closed. As my friend and I lived in opposite directions, he hopped in one cab and I hopped in another. I gave my address to the driver, and we began to make conversation during the ride. At one point, he asked me if I had a boyfriend, and in my state of mild inebriation, I spoke garrulously at my lack of success in relationships in the area. A few minutes later, the driver pulled into a dark alley, parked the car, climbed into the backseat, and started groping me. “We’re going to have sex in this cab,” he said. It was a harrowing experience–I wanted to resist, but I didn’t know if he was armed and dangerous, and I had no idea where we were. Luckily, I had my cell phone in my pocket and, while he was groping me, I dialed 911, hit the button for speaker phone, and quickly shouted the name of the cab company, the cab number, and that I was about to be raped. The driver, stunned, pushed me out of the cab and drove away. It took me a while to find my bearings, and I had to hail another cab home (believe me, that wasn’t easy), but I survived the experience physically (I won’t say emotionally) unscathed. Our stories are parallel in many ways, so the fact that you became a success story inspires and gives me hope for myself. Somewhere, somehow, there has to be a way out of this crippling darkness. I just haven’t found it yet.
IT’s odd, the way we see ourselves one way, and other people see us another way. I see you already on the path to the Light. Melody
Melancholyj- Having just read your post, I was immediately struck by the level of compassion and empathy you expressed towards Denise. Even with all of the pain and heartache you are going through. The magnamous capacity of your spirit is amazing. Instead of allowing yourself to become embittered by your experiences, here you are actively offering support and empathy to others. I hope you know what a truly beautiful, inspiring and brave choice that is. Thank you for sharing your humanity.
Smerk, thank you for making me smile. Your words are truly cherished.
Smerk just wanted to tell you I got the Empath book you suggested. The info has been a great help to me. Mainly I am Aware now when I am feeling someone else’s pain and am able to tell myself you can sympathized but you do not have to empathize. The awareness is freeing me up to up to feel my own life. One more layer peeled back and revealed… thanks again and so good to see you on the site. l
Hi Melancholyj, Even as your experiences speak to so much desolation… that you ARE feeling speaks to the hope that allowed you share your story here and has kept you going. At your core there is something so strong and beautiful that even when evil upon evil is heaped upon you it can not be extinguished it instead shows up in places like this site and shines brighter. I love how Smerk described your doing so’ as a truly beautiful inspiring and brave choice’. I echo her sentiments. You are not prying to ask about my brother, most people can’t stand to hear the truth. He felt guilty that he was not helping our mother and decided to go back to do so. It defies logic, and can only be understood in terms of Stockhom syndrome as you mentioned or bonding with ones perpetrator. But due to the fact that she weighs 68 lbs and is terminally ill she can only batter him verbally. Because my other and brother and I know how volatile this is we warned him not to go there. He went there, started drinking and volleyed back at her, she called the police and told him he was threatening to kill her, he ripped the phone out of the wall and left. He called the police from a phone booth and told him to come get him. Because he has two strikes this was considered the 3rd ( for elder abuse due to the 911 call) and an automatic 25 years to life. She knew this and it is why she did it. He began his career in prison when he was first taken to juvenile hall at 12 for run away. Back then (1972) running away from one’s abuser was viewed as a crime. I had also done the same at one point… I went out my bedroom window got on a bicycle in the wee hours of the morning( I was being harassed by mother and her boy friend at the time) and rode to my aunts and by 6:00 AM the police showed up at her place, hand cuffed me and took me juvenile hall. I was 16 at the time. It was made crystal clear to me that what I had to say meant less than nothing. Parents had the right to do what so ever they pleased with ‘ their ‘ children. Children were to be seen and not heard. Not so with me. A counselor ( I consider her an angel) listened to me and kept me with her, called my aunt who spoke with my mother’s other sisters and the 3 of them talked her into allowing me to come back home. I quickly learned to pick my poison. And being incarcerated by strangers was not it. At home there was a bedroom window I could climb out, juvenile hall didn’t have this option. I was violated by the Doctor at the Children’s Shelter, people don’t like to know that these things happen, so I understand why so many children given what from the outside looking in appears to be a way out, do not take it. At least what ever a child deals with at ‘home’ is familiar to them. My brother had suffered years of physical abuse from our mother, he wet the bed and she daily called him a piss pot, made him take the sheets off his bed and he would be punished, while the rest of us had to listen, although periodically my other brother or I would beg her stop. This meant you would be punished and there it is, in terms of the sense of wanting to protect a sibling and the guilt that is felt because you couldn’t. The counselor that helped me for 5 years, explained to me that witnessing another being abused in these types of situations has the same impact as if it is happening to you. My mother determined that because my youngest brother and I had brown hair and brown eyes, not blond hair and blue eyes as our other brother and sister that we were less than. She took out the brunt of her anger and self hate on he and I. I was the oldest. I found pieces of ply wood at one point in my childhood and made a fort in the corner of the back yard and I would take my little brother out there and talk and sing to him or tell him stories. It was all I could think to do. In our case our father was around and to the degree he was able he buffered some of what she did. Unfortunately he went with her to a bar one night, trying to talk her out of the keys and the plans to divorce him she had currently announced and it ended in them fighting in the car and driving 80 mph into a very big tree. He died on impact and they do not how she survived. It was considered a miracle by the Doctors. She remained in the hospital for months before she came home in a body cast and with a trach which had be suctioned so she could breath and no vocal cords, which through the wonders of technology she was the first at that time, 1971, to be the recipient of a procedure that did give her back a voice. My brother was 10 at that time and like the rest of us only worse for him, life went from a nightmare to a black hole, waking, sleeping it made no difference. In the year after this is when I called CPS because I was beside myself in trying to help my siblings, him most of all. By the time he was 11 and this is good info for those who are seeking to intervene with children the die is cast and I have observed that it will be clear whether a child is going to act out or act in. Those who ‘act in’ express their helplessness through acts of self loathing and find the illusion of control in this way. Acting out is for the same reasons only expressed in different ways. I was on one end of the spectrum my brother on the other. A greatly simplified explanation because human beings are unique and so are their reasons and stories.But my brother while in juvenile hall fought with a counselor and it was then determined he needed to be sent to a boys ranch and what then followed was his use of drugs and alcohol when he would get out, and being convicted of crimes attached to all the behaviors that can go with this. By 16 he was involved with a very bad ( certainly his inflence and choices were) older man and his wife who sold drugs and in effect had an open door for all the lost boys and girls in the neighborhood ( this is what gangs are about). There was a ‘party’ at his home one night, a dispute broke out and my brother pulled a hand gun out from the back of his pants to shoot who ever and instead shot himself through the back with a hollow point 22 shell that ricocheted as it was meant to do inside all of his lower internal organs. By the time he arrived at the hospital 5 minutes away he had almost no BP. The surgeon that operated on him had been a MASH unit Dr in Viet Nam and explained that it was a very grave injury and gave him a 50/50 chance of survival. But survive he did. And though many of the youth at that time were falling around us, this had no impact to deter or change the self destruction that propelled him on. By 14 he was sent to a place called CYA for which he was the youngest person there having zero business being there as he was only further abused as a result. I believe what happened to him there set the the course of no return in his thinking. While in prison he was given psyche meds as most are, and also many diagnoses for the reasons to take them. None of which speaks to the child abuse that can create the need to be anesthetized from the demons one is seeking to exorcise. In the same way I imagine a death certificate can site cause of death as organ failure when the cause of this is alcoholism. The end result is sited not the cause in my thinking. Angry hurting self destructive human beings do not crawl out of a vacuum. They don’t in my knowledge just for shits an giggles ‘decide’ they will get up day after day and find new ways to create and bring havoc and ruin to themselves and others. So there is a very long answer Melancholyj to a short question. When I am living with my heart open, I can tell myself Hurting people.. hurt people. Sick and abused people want to love and be loved, to have purpose, value and meaning. The question is where are they looking, where I am looking and is what I really want to be found in the people places and things I seek to find this? In my thinking if I could not find a reason that could make sense to me or bring meaning to what I endured, than what I did to over come it, the motivation to live and what it meant to me somehow wouldn’t matter either and that has never resonated within me and I hope it never will. I believe this is one of the reasons Melody created this site. Nothing will ever make the agony of losing her son better or any of the other reasons that people when they don’t know better try to site for such a tragedy. But if she were to lay down and give in to her despair and broken heart, so real and not to be invalidated, rather than to eventually choose ‘to learn beyond this moment’ then I can not see how her many books of hope and inspiration would have been possible. A sweetheart from one of the other sites here just shared this quote with me in her post a few days ago ” if there is but one force that feeds the root of pain it is the refusal to learn beyond this moment.” (Thanks and wink La Loba) Funny thing how I had just written a blog about the exact same time about ‘contempt prior to investigation’, very similar reasons in my thinking as to one of the ways we can become stuck in our pain.” In capable of abuse is as close to being loved as you and your brother knew”… haunts me and I send you a hug and many thoughts of loving care. The interesting thing about ‘normalcy’ is a child just wants’ their’ family to be normal. They don’t necessarily want someone else’s version of what this should be forced upon them. Even though it is most often motivated by good intent and loving concern. It is but one more cog in the wheels of our broken system. No easy answers, but in my mind I can to do what I can where I am. I know of a number of children living with varying degrees of abuse now, unfortunately. I worked with ‘high risk’ children for a number of years in the public school system and learned to determined within myself that as much as I wanted to wrap my arms around some of these angels and bring them home, I could not allow myself to obsess about doing so. I had to evaluate what I could do and enlist the help of others who could do something else and make judgement calls to the best of my ability praying for the insight and wisdom to do what would be most helpful for each child. and there were a couple of occasions I absolutely has to call CPS. I learned to tell myself that sometimes my only contribution was that I was in the position to plant a seed, the same as people had done in my life. And as those those seeds mattered in my life so too would they matter for others. Please know that you are in my thoughts. I am so glad you have chosen to share your beautiful spirit. You bring me hope and inspiration. Thank you for being here.
I’m going to interject in this conversation somewhat: you also have a story to tell — one that must be told. And please, if you write a book, consider giving me screen or teleplay writing rights to it? The stories about the demonic three-strikes law need to be told. We must start effecting change, for to do nothing is to in fact do something, and it’s not a “something” I want to do. Just keep it in mind, okay? We have prisons overpopulated with people for possession of drugs that are now legal in some states; we have three-strikers with wasted lives; the system is very, very broken and we need to begin fixing it. The power we have is in our stories. Best, Melody
And ditto to all you have said to Melancholy.
Denise, I am so overwhelmed by your story. I agree with Melody in that it needs to be told — and you tell it so beautifully just on this forum. I feel almost guilty in grieving my own pain when you seem to have gone through so much more….but, again, there are a lot of parallels in our pasts. I was completely unaware that running away had ever been considered a crime. My brother and I both ran away from home on numerous occasions. One time, when I was 13, I made it all the way from the Northeast (where I grew up) to Minnesota on the Greyhound bus. I was going to live with a friend I had made on the Internet in an eating disorders support group; we would support each other’s unhealthy behaviors. I like your description of “acting in” versus “acting out.” Like you, I coped with my situation by “acting in,” expressing self-loathing by hurting myself. And, like your bother, my brother also coped by “acting out.” He was violent toward objects and people. He never went to juvenile hall or prison (that I am aware of), but he did have to take anger management classes, and as I’d mentioned, he was kicked out of the dorms his first month for lashing out at a roommate. At home, he’d frequently punch holes through the walls in apoplectic fits. It was truly horrifying sometimes. I’m honestly not sure what he is up to these days, as we are estranged. It may be for the best. But I am truly, truly sorry to learn of the awful situation you’re going through with your own brother right now. I can’t imagine how helpless you must feel. I’m sorry that I’m not familiar with the three-strikes law, but I echo Melody’s thoughts about the system being broken. I remember in an earlier post that you mentioned he was sentenced to 10 years? Did that come from a plea agreement? Can he appeal for a jury trial? I feel that many juries may be sympathetic to his situation — especially with the aid of a jury consultant. He may not be acquitted, and he may still go to prison, but perhaps for not as long as 10 years. Of course, juries are still a risk, though. I wish I could be of more help to you, but I’m unfortunately not a lawyer, nor do I know any criminal lawyers, All I can send to you is my empathy and well wishes. You are in my thoughts.
Denise: Do you happen to live in California? As I said, I’m not a lawyer, but I did a little bit of Internet research on the three-strikes law. It appears that, in 2012, the state of California passed Proposition 36, which amended the three-strikes law to no longer apply to defendants who committed a “non-serious, non-violent” crime. Although it seems counter-intuitive, legally, elder abuse falls under that category. Under Proposition 36, previously sentenced defendants who meet the non-serious, non-violent criterion can be eligible for re-sentencing, and these defendants will typically receive only double the ordinary sentence for the crime. In California, the penalty for felony elder abuse is two to four years in prison, so–if re-sentenced under Proposition 36–the *maximum* your brother would have to serve is eight years. And that’s worst-case scenario; very rarely do defendants receive the maximum sentence unless there are serious aggravating factors. I think you and/or your brother may want to speak to a lawyer about this. Just some practical advice. Do with it what you wish. Hugs.
Just overhearing, but we need to do something about the three strikes law in all states. Originally it was passed concerning sexual predators, and then somehow it grew and expanded to include everyone. I live in CA and am so glad they wiped that one at least somewhat off the books. I still maintain that we need to pull out the Constitution, shake off the dust, go back to the beginning, and redo the system. Melody
Loved the racoon story, Denise, very profound and easily relatable. That racoon comes in all shapes and sizes but our initial responses must be consistent or else we wind up reacting with panic and insanity rather than responding with calmness and self preservation. Yesterday, Mother’s Day, was one of those days. I had returned home from an AA meeting and my son, who was visiting for the weekend was here. He had recently shared that, although he wasn’t using opiates or benzodiazapines (xanax) on a daily basis,and didn’t have a full-blown dependency at this point, he knew he would soon be back into that situations if he didn’t get himself into treatment. Anyway, so I saw him sitting in the livingroom on the sofa holding his eye. I inquired as to what appeared to be wrong and he said he was sitting there and had fallen asleep with his head on his knee. His face was all creased and apparently his eye was directly over his knee and was sore. I took one look at him and knew he was under the influence and had obviously nodded out after using something. He went outside to smoke a cigarette and I did something NOT encouraged by Al-Anon principles but did it anyway…..I snooped in his backpack and found a syringe and empty heroin bags. Ok, that was bad enough, but I forfeited another principle by sharing what I found rather than keeping my mouth shut. I’ve been through this many, many times and that a major reason, at least one, anyway, why my son no longer resides with me. It turned into a nightmare with two insane people.You’d think I would know my now that there is NO reasoning with an addict, especially if he was just using. He was furious with me and resorted to all those behaviors addicts do blaming others, the world and GOD for his problems. He was hurtful beyond words but I truly know that it is he himself and not me who is is the object of his loathing and I am merely a convenient recepticle for all his venom. Thankfully, someone came to drive him home last night and I was slowly able to regain my equilibrium. Thankfully, I have some good friends who are available for support. It’s just sad that he is still unwilling to seek recovery but it occurred to me after he left that there’s a possibility that even HE is becoming sick and tired of the pain and unrest his addiction is creating. I am repeating the Serenity Prayer and still believe that miracles can happen and to never abandon hope. The meditation in Ms. Beattie’s book for today, May 13 in “The Language Of Letting Go” is entitled Property Lines. It speaks of detachment being a helpful tool in our recovery and identifying who owns what as far as behaviors. Whoever reads this daily meditational book is blessed with Melody’s wisdom on a daily basis. I’m so grateful for you, Melody, and for this site and for all the wonderful people who take the time to share. I hope and pray you’re feeling better!! Peace to all, loulou
I would probably do the same thing. Snooping is difficult not to do, especially when it entails something that powerful and dangerous, and what we hear doesn’t match what we see. I need to post this on my other site, but I recently visited and will be blogging about a treatment center out here that takes both alcoholics and addicts; has highly skilled and caring counselors; is long-term; costs $2000 a month (very low cost) with scholarships available to those who meet the criteria. Part of the criteria is wanting to get clean. I was excited to find this place. It’s in Santa Monica; the name of it is CLARE and they’ve been around since the seventies. I like the idea of long-term; I like the price and the scholarships. I’m just passing on the information because it crossed my mind, as it won’t do you any good until your son is ready. I don’t recall what state you live in — you may know of resources there but finding good ones, affordable ones, has become more and more difficult. And addicts need long-term treatment. 28 days won’t do it. I just wanted to pass this on so you could “file it in your data bank.” I’m sorry you went through that on Mother’s Day. I don’t think situations like that are what any of us expected when we were pregnant. Best, Melody Beattie
Hi Loulou good to see our post as always. You should see what I did to the gate… it is 6 ft not 7 or 8 as I originally thought but none the less I pulled the timber from the wall it was anchored on… Godzilla, as I now jokingly refer to this raccoon, has not come back. I probably scared him as much as he scared me! The re-runs and re-cycling we go through to process the pain and powerful emotions we feel while dealing with the disease…. I snooped through my daughters room at one point in her life and this was totally against the principles I thought I believed in. But it was an intuitive urging I had to do so and it was a good thing I did. The 12 steps are magnificent in my view but so is my mothers instinct which has told me things I needed to know when I needed to know them. Progress not Perfection anyway. I spoke with my brother from jail yesterday and he was blaming angry resentful and it was painful to hear it until I couldn’t hear it anymore and said We told you stay away from mom but you just had to go there,it was your choice and here you are… I have never spoken to my brother this way ever, but his train of thought wasn’t helpful to him or I. The powerless I feel reminds me to look to the One who isn’t… is where I am today. Saying the Serenity prayer with emphasis on ‘the wisdom to know the difference’ is what I find myself repeating. What a beautiful prayer. I Thank God I can turn to it and turn over whatever I’m obsessing about. I smiled from ear to ear myself when I read the page in MLLG May 16. It is such a gift to read a meditation and be able to make sense of what I’m feeling. With you my gratitude goes out daily to Melody also. At this stage of my life I tell myself Loving detachment calms the storm brewing in me, while allowing those I love to turn to the God that loves them, for the help only He can give. Your’e in my prayers. Blessings and Peace to you, Denise
Melody, I must have missed, somewhere, in your articles here or elsewhere, that you have had some type of surgery going on?! I’m sorry to hear that, however, my daily prayers will absolutely include you, with much healing, positive outcome and sustained “GOD-SENT,” blessings in your recovery! Take care, Jan
Thanks. I hit a recovery milestone today — I took a shower and it didn’t hurt. Until now, each drop of water felt like a needle piercing my body. Thanks for your prayers. Melody Beattie
Yikes Melody… I have only had one emergency surgery in my life for a ruptured ectopic pregnancy and I had the bounce back that youth provided at the time, but remember the feeling you spoke of. Difficult then can’t imagine it now… so sorry your’e going through this… but glad to hear it’s getting a little better. You have really been through so much, you are one tough cookie and definitely one of my hero’s. Thoughts of Blessing and Wellness are being sent your way.
Thanks. I had just put on my goal list “see the Rolling Stones in concert” (at the beginning of these surgeries). The Stones then scheduled some concerts in the So Cal area — but all were on surgery days — or very close to them. Then from out of nowhere, they scheduled one for May 20th at Staples, which would give me ten days after the last surgery. It was cutting it close, but I bought tickets anyway. Went with my daughter last night. Didn’t sit for more than two or three minutes of the entire concert. I swear, I thought I died and went to heaven. It was so fantastic, and I’m so grateful. Can hardly move today — it’s more movement than I’ve had in total for a couple months — but so worth it. Thanks for your wel-wishes; I am doing better. Have all my braces off (last one came off today). Stiff, sore, but don’t know that a human being could be any happier. Best, Melody
So glad you’re feeling better and could experience the euphoria of the concert. Few things calm my spirit more than music. Hugs.
Actually, there is one thing that comes close, and I thought I’d share simply because I know you’d agree: skydiving. The art of adrenaline, so intensely freeing. I don’t know whether you’re a sporadic jumper or have a skydiving license (I only read that you were a skydiver as I was perusing your book, “The Grief Club”), but gosh, I feel so enveloped by tranquility in the sky. Of course, every light has its darkness, and as I assimilated myself in the skydiving culture (I was at the dropzone every weekend and packed parachutes/worked manifest in exchange for free jumps), I lost a lot of friends to skydiving accidents. The most heartbreaking of all was a few years ago when my very first instructor, who became a dear friend, died in a tandem fatality after the reserve failed to deploy. I’ had to pull back a bit after that; it became too devastating to keep losing members of my close-knit skydiving family. As you probably know, it’s a tight group. I’ve jumped at dropzones all over the country (boogies) and met talented jumpers from all over the world. You and I probably know a lot of the same people.
We probably do. I got my license. Had a home out by the dropzone — filled it with skydivers. We held parties for people from all over the world, as many areas have weather that doesn’t let them jump much. The military would bring groups there to train. Those were good days. The only difference in the euphoria is that I didn’t have to worry about my main and reserve not opening at the Stones concert. Melody
Nothing much beats the healing power of music and laughter! Glad to hear you got to see the Stones (jealous!) wishing you much music and laughter best, Patty
Thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier and better in my life — don’t think I’ll ever feel that happy again. Damn. We sat in the first row — no, didn’t sit — we stood and danced all night.
Those do sound like some amazing times. I used to camp out at my home dropzone frequently. Those of us regulars would do a beautiful sunset dive (love those), barbecue some food, and then tell stories by the bonfire until the wee hours of the morning. I often miss that lifestyle. I still skydive, but less frequently, because the closest DZ from where I live now (I moved a few years ago) is a two-hour drive without traffic. It’s been a while, though, because I’ve been isolating myself from the world lately — maybe a re-currency jump and some relative work dives would be cathartic. But you’re right, music is a much safer euphoria. In the last place I lived, I actually co-founded a band (in 2005) and was lead singer/songwriter until I moved states in 2010 (for multiple reasons). I loved it. I felt so invincible on that stage. To have an audience full of people, most of whom don’t even know you, clap and cheer for you and your creations, and then shower you with compliments and autograph requests — it feels amazing. I’d never felt so appreciated by anyone. I’m sure you’ve experienced similar feelings as a successful author with a large fan base. Anyway, I’m rambling. I hope you continue to feel better after your surgeries!
I think of myself as being more in the “service” business than an entertainer — but I do miss skydiving. I had to have two artificial discs implanted in my spine in 2005; they’re on a curvature. So at this point, it would be not too bright for me to skydive. One bad landing could undo all the physical healing I’ve gone through. But I’m seriously considering taking up paragliding when I get my next two writing projects finished. That (writing) is my number one euphoria. I go someplace when I write — someplace magical where nobody can come with. it’s hard working through the resistance and getting there, but once I get there, I don’t want to come back. I always looked at my two years at the drop zone as my time to be a kid — something I never received before. We had so much fun — like you say the nightly campfires, listening to the same people tell the same stories and not caring, just glad to be alive. Nobody cared what you did, who you were, how much money you had. All that matters was, did you make it through the day? Good times. Best, Melody
I’ve done both hang gliding and paragliding as well. I don’t get the same “thrill” that I do with skydiving, but they are both incredibly relaxing, peaceful — as, of course, you’re in the sky. But I do agree with you about the euphoria of writing, the sense of going someplace magical. I go there, too, whether it’s in writing a poem, a song, a story. I’m getting serious about channeling my story into a memoir; I’ve sort of outlined something already, although I’m still grappling with the privacy issue (how to disguise my parents’ identities?). I’d love to write this under a pseudonym and be 100% candid, free of any fictionalization, but I know that pseudonyms aren’t safe anymore. I’ll do more research. I’m also starting an illustrated humor blog (similar to Hyperbole and a Half) at the insistence of my friends after sending them a few amusing drawings of my recent misadventures, just for fun. So, there’s also that. PS. Not sure if you saw my response to your abduction story with my own almost-rape experience; it sort of got lost in the weird chain of replies to Denise’s post somewhere up above.
I’m glad you’re doing positive and forward-moving activities, but it sounds like you’ve always been good at that. My hope is that the pain from the past can slither out as painlessly as possible, so you’re truly set free. I know you can figure it out, and hopefully channel that process into something creative, as well. Melody
I agree — I don’t get the adrenaline rush from paragliding — but I do get a peaceful, meditative feeling and I’m also in the sky. I can’t go through another spine surgery; the last one almost killed me. So I need to settle down a bit. Best, Melody
Sending Reiki and prayers (and psychic bubble-wrap!)
Hi Melody, I hope each day finds you feeling a less pain, more strength and your sense of balance and wellness returning. I want to share a funny encounter I had yesterday. I returned home at about 10:45 last night after babysitting for a friend’s granddaughter. My little cat came out of what ever bush she was in and greeted me as she always does. I said okay baby girl lets go in, as I always do and she ran a few steps ahead of me to the stairs and waited. As I get there I hear her cat door clink shut… I look at her and think if your’e HERE who just went in your door? Behind me is a fence and a gate to the adjoining yard within 3 foot of the bottom of the stairs. To my right is another fence that parallels the stairs with a narrow walkway leading out to the field and carport where I come in. I stood there for brief moment thinking do I go in or wait … then I see the masked face of a “bandit” raccoon coming out the cat door.. holy crap… all I can think is these cute little critters( related to badgers as I understand it) can be vicious. My cat is a few feet from me on my right and a wall on my left. I begin yelling at my cat…Run …Go Away, as I am trying to pull the gate inward to get through it, except it seems something is blocking it, I can’t get it open, and I am beginning to panic as the raccoon is taking on gigantic proportions with each step it comes closer to me. I finally manage to pull the 7 or 8 ft gate open enough to squeeze through. I stand on the other side in my neighbors yard with my heart pounding praying I do not hear a fight between my cat and the raccoon… after a minute, I hear nothing… whew… I open the gate peek out and head up stairs with my cat close behind. I lock the cat door, sympathize with my cat for a moment and think of all the possibilities and problems with this scenario. Raccoon hurts my cat, no.. I keep my cat locked in or locked out, no… I get a trap, maybe.. I come home it’s inside and I shoot it, no… I guess I’ll figure it out tomorrow. AT 12:30 PM I see the masked face again, pushing on the cat door to get in.. I’m feeling held hostage by a raccoon…. now I’m mad.. I slap my hands yell and it takes off and I put a few things in front of the cat door just to make sure. I realized this morning the reason I couldn’t open the gate is because I was trying to pull it in towards me instead of outward from myself…! This is a 7ft gate whose hinges are now somewhat tweaked due to my freak out. My brother had a good laugh when I told him about how the raccoon grew into Godzilla with each step closer he came down the stairs. I’ll probably put cat food in the yard to keep it from coming in and ask for the SPCA to put out a trap so it can be released into a more appropriate environment. I was thinking this morning about how instantaneously helpless I felt backed into a corner, literally. Fearing for both my cat and myself, unable to be in two places at once. And it dawned on me this is how I have felt many times in my life. Instead of a cat and a raccoon though, it was a brother or sister, child or parent, spouse or friend and I had to choose. Run away from not to the danger I often said, while I always seemed to have the same reaction… tearing down gates, climbing over fences, or standing in the dark with my heart pounding waiting to hear .. what? I could usually not predict. In moments like these try as we might, we do not always have the option or ability to protect or rescue another. They must depend on the survival instinct within them self to do so. Fight or Flight kicks in and in an instant our mind, intuition and experience dictates our action. I believe we whisper a desperate prayer, the kind with words we are unaware of, more of a sound or groan whose meaning only God knows and understands. In the aftermath we seek to make sense of or deny the impact to our psyche, whichever soothes our emotional state and allows us to tolerate or bring solution. We do what seems best, we do what is familiar and what we know to do. And in some way like the movie Ground Hogs Day, we live out the same scenario day after day year after year, as we discover what didn’t work and try to change one thing, one word, one action or reaction, one step to the right or the left as we work through the options learning what can bring about a more satisfying result. And how can we know until we try, what the outcome will be. The variables are many and we can’t always have the perfect knowing we would wish to or perhaps think we do. But God knows. He knows the nimble footed cat can easily climb run or walk away, He knows the lumbering girth and single minded focus of the raccoon will not confront unless it must, He knows the terrified heart of the witness to it all hopes each will just let the other be. What we hope for and what happens do not always align. But it depends on whose perspective this is being seen from doesn’t it? The cat, raccoon or tenant of the home? I am the tenant and owner of my home. The defense of the boundary lines are my responsibility. If I want to face the same situation I can do nothing. But I don’t want this. There was a time I didn’t know I had the option of options. Today I know that I do. I don’t go to the Hardware Store expecting to find yogurt and lunch meat as I in essence once did. I look for solutions to aid or solve problems, in the places where life has shown me they can most likely be found. Sometimes there’s a gate or an escape hatch, sometimes I am cornered with no where to go. When flight has not been an option, life has afforded me the opportunity to discover my strengths. It has allowed me to find out that God will pour steel into my bones and help me to stand up and do what I must. I have learned through acts of desperate courage ” His strength is made perfect in weakness”. I continue to learn that His Grace is sufficient for every arrow that comes through Him before to gets to me ( or doesn’t). My cat is nestled comfortably in a chair close by. When I consider the peacefulness on this creatures face in this moment I realize she is undisturbed by thoughts of what could happen. In this moment all is well and I think I ‘ll take my cue from her and trust when the unexpected shows up I’ll deal with it, but until then I’m going to work on not borrowing or anticipating trouble that may or may not come. I just started reading ” Making Miracles in 40 Days” and sent a copy to my brother also. I loved Sages description of you… it made you so human. I could relate. This is perhaps the single most heart rending life altering gift you have and share. Your humanity, as it is. I have found permission to do the same and with this the freedom to move through life and to allow life to move through me. Getting stuck, stalling out, floundering like a fish out of water all have their place the same as getting unstuck, reigniting the spark, and finding my way back to the river, do. Learning to accept and go with the ebb and flow of life is thus far one of my biggest aha’s. I just want to say Thank You for every word in every book you write and have shared in your journey. I always come away encouraged. Defined: Inspired with the hope, confidence and resolution to go on. Peace to You and all, Denise
Thanks for the good story — and helpful one — Denise. I always enjoy hearing from you. Could you email me at MelodyLBeattie@msn.com sometime in the next week? I have something I’d like to run by you — and as always, “No,” is a perfectly acceptable response. (It’s connected to the narcissism/codependency issue — just so you’re not left hanging as I’m a little behind in responding lately. Well, a lot behind.) The thing I’ve learned about worry and fear is that it seems that the problems I worry most about don’t happen. The problems that burst open my life, pull the rug out from under me etc., are ones I never imagined coming. So then I turn that into a “well, maybe worry keeps them away …” — magical thinking. We have so little control except for, as you said, realizing we have options and that everything that happens can be a learning experience, one where we grow from the sometimes small, sometimes large, details and incidents in our lives. I keep seeing the masked bandit raccoon coming through the cat door. They can be scary creatures. We’ve got Clyde the Coyote on the road in front of the house — getting hungry at night. So far he hasn’t bothered me. I think that, as you said, each has his/her own perspective and we’re probably all equally fearful of each other. Anyway, good story. Daily I’m feeling slightly better, although it would be much easier and quicker to tell you what doesn’t hurt than describe what does. The results will be worth it. I have some stories I want to put into blogs — I have so many things I want to do — and not enough time. It’s hard to trust that I’m right where I should be each moment as lately I’ve been feeling late for all of life. I’m completely engaged in learning this new craft of episodic television writing though and just read a great book on Resistance and what a powerful force it is in keeping us from what we most want and need to be doing. I’ll post the title next time — it’s well worth a read though and applies to many areas other than writing — from growth, change, to doing what we most want to be doing but are afraid to do in life. Best. Melody Beattie
Hi Melody Glad you enjoyed the story, I’m still chuckling thinking about the gate…. not so with thinking about you running into the door.. yikes! My dad walked through a plate glass sliding door when I was a kid, because it had just been cleaned and he didn’t realize it was shut. He unbelievably wasn’t hurt at all. I so understand the feeling you spoke of about being late for life and not enough time to do all the things, projects ideas for projects etc you want to. It seems strangely backwards that we figure out some really important things, barriers that have held us captive, what really matters.. a clean house with unhappy agitated children or a not so clean one with smiling faces and tummies full of love, how others perceive you vs how you value yourself, whether your hair is screwed up, your 15 lbs overweight, your’e wearing no makeup… blah blah blah… I don’t care about how it or I look necessarily, I care about the motive within myself regarding what I say, and what I do and what impact these words and actions have on the hearts and minds of other human beings. That pretty well covers it. The book on resistance sounds interesting, something I will read. I know when I’m sick I torture myself with everything I can’t do. I used to get sick to be able to rest, today I just rest when I’m tired, and feel mad when I’m sick… progress not perfection. Take Care
Thanks. Nobody told me that getting older was like putting miles on a car — parts would break; some need replacing. Thank God that it’s all fixable. Best, Melody.
Dear Melody, I was reading your article, today, as I do everyday, and they always conjure up my own thoughts of love and the loss of someone I loved very much…..however, my lost love hasn’t died and gone away forever, except in my heart! Since I know we’ll never go back together again, I am moving on the best I can! ( It does get better each day!) I read your messages and sense that you must still hurt, so very much about the loss of your son, Shane?! I can’t imagine nor ever hope to experience that type of pain. My heart goes out to you, because I too, have two adult children and I pray often for their safety in their comings and goings! No one, I feel, except God, can understand the reasons or whys these kind of losses happened!? Some say it was already destined or it was their time or maybe the “season,” is over…..but all I can say or feel about it, is that for me, it was meant to be. Again, we know it would be so nice to “control,” everything and everyone, so our outcomes are exactly what suits us! But knowing, “control,” is really an illusion, I feel for me anyway, I just keep hoping and praying for right and positive outcomes to give my life meaning! That seems to me, to be all any of us can do?! I, again, read your messages and in them, many times feel your pain, yet no one can take that away from you! Yet we have our memories, of our lost loves or deceased loved ones to hold on too! As with your writings and books and with my poetry that I do, it’s one way for sure, to express our feelings and release our pain and hopefully to continue to ad meaning and understanding, not only for ourselves, but for the people who chose to read our expressions. Life for me, however, is certainly one big learning class, but I keep wondering, will I ever graduate?? haha. Thanks for your platform herein, to be able to express and share thoughts, Melody! Namaste, Jan
Thanks for taking time to post and your kind words. I want to say to you and others here that it’s so easy when it comes to codependency to focus on all we lost, yet those of us who grew up with pain, with the loss of a parent’s love and with ongoing stress — we are the ones who keep going when others fold, who get the job done, who can be counted on. We don’t need to be “bubble-wrapped” to protect us from life. We can handle it, whatever it is, and help others too. And it’s also crucial, as Denise mentions above in her post (the story about the raccoon), to “put on our oxygen mask first, before helping others” — like they tell us on airplanes. If we’re not stable, centered and grounded, we can be of little benefit to others. Taking care of ourselves isn’t a self-centered thing. It’s the way we can be of service, be a channel for our HP to love and assist others and also to enjoy bits of life here and there. For me, keeping this forum going is a way to make my son’s death count. To me, his loss was too important not to find meaning in it. When I see no reason for my pain, it’s tough to endure. But when I can see some purpose, it makes it much easier to get through it, to get the gumption to not just survive but to go forward and thrive. Best to you, and hope to hear from you again. And — sometimes I think it’s harder to lose someone who’s not gone, because we have to live with the possibility that we don’t have to have this loss, that things could be different. It’s just impossible and ridiculous to compare pain anyway, because whatever pain we’re experiencing right now hurts as much as the next gal or guy’s pain. It’s in the reaching out to others, to shattering the illusion that there’s a large group of happily ever after people out there living a life we’ll never touch or see when that’s just not the way it is. I used to think it was “them” and “us.” Now I know it’s one great big “we.” That makes life worth living — and re graduation from the learning, I think the courses become more challenging, the further along we go. It’s like martial arts. We’re expected to learn and use the tools we’ve gained, plus acquire new ones too. Naively in the beginning I thought I’d have one big problem, one time to let go, and the rest would be the proverbial piece of cake. Ha! Lots of twists, turns and surprises and very few dull moments. But honestly, wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s. My pain, my joys, my dreams – fulfilled and otherwise — are mine. I cherish the whole journey. And it’s not over yet. As I get older, I cling to the idea that despite my age, there’s a good chance that the best is yet to come although I also live by the motto that each moment in life is as good as it gets – because it is. Best, Melody
Melody A while back, you and I exchanged several emails about the losing our children. Not sure if you remember me, I am from Wisconsin and lost my son in a hunting accident 3 months after he was married. Well, I treasured our emails and the thoughts you shared with me. Unfortunately, my computer recently crashed and I lost off of our correspondence. Would you please search your emails and resend them to me? I would sincerely appreciate it. I hope you are doing well. Thanks so much for your help, Cindy
Hi, Cindy. Did we send private emails or did we exchange posts on the site? Let me know and I’ll hunt them out (or do my best, anyway). My plate is very full right now, so give me some time. I’m behind on everything — or so it seems. But give me a few more details and I’ll do what I can. How are you doing? How long has it been now? (Although I’m aware that at the drop of a hat, it can be yesterday the loss occurred.) Stay in touch and just send the info to the site here. If it was through private emails, did you use the email address you used to sign up for this site? If not do you know which email address or name you used? Thanks, Melody
Hello all! I’m just so grateful for this site as it not only provides a safe place to share but also a wealth of “reference material” for dealing with any ongoing, unsolvable and unfixable, which amounts to just about everything, situations in my life. The only thing I CAN change is how I think about an issue. Namely, my son, who I “wish”, now there’s the problem right there……was willing to be in recovery. Just that unwillingness to accept the situation as it is today, indicates that on some level, I erroneously believe that there’s something I can say or do to change him. My unrest is ALL do to this type of thinking and it’s an indication that I’m trying to control things and experiencing unrest by not admitting Powerlessness over him and his life. He was supposed to work for me yesterday at a job near his apartment but called me in the AM saying his transportation plans had changed. Fortunately, I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut and not ask stupid or leading questions but I still create anxiety for myself with my recurring thoughts. So, I got on the site this morning and saw Ms. Beattie’s reply to something I wrote regarding this same issue…..I know I sound like a broken record…..but I’m still struggling with it. Her reply was so very wise, stating the “three times rule” and the initial difficulty in resigning oneself to adhere to it. That’s the space I’m in at this very moment. I did not call him yesterday to reiterate my “disappointment” or try to inflict guilt or manipulate him in any way. I didn’t call specifically as I didn’t want to give myself the opportunity to fall into those self-defeating behaviors. They do nothing positive for him or myself. That decision was the preferable one and I’m grateful I followed through. Fortunately, I attended an Al-Anon meeting last night and shared this story, AGAIN, and heard what I needed to hear. A reminder of the three “C’s” principle…..we didn’t cause the addiction, we can’t control the addiction and we can’t cure the addiction. So thanks for being here and letting me share. Peace to all….loulou
You sound good, wise, and centered yourself, LouLou. Am in a lot of pain; had the last surgery yesterday. More later. Melody
LIfting up healing, restfilled and peaceful prayers for you Melody. Take good care. Blessings and Love, Denise
Thank you. With help from HP and the universe, this will be the last in a series of surgeries. Nothing more for at least two years. I appreciate your prayers. Melody Beattie
I am praying for those who will be more acutely aware and reminded this Mother’s Day of the ache in their heart for a Beloved child gone from their presence. I am praying for those who never knew the loving concern, gentle guidance or smile of a mother’s love also. May we “Take the gentle path” if or as the heart speaks about all that is gone, all that was good, or all that will never be… on earth. Amen
Dearest Melody, I’m so grateful for your input. I love the “three times” rule. I must implement that behavior as I’ve way, way overdone my number of suggestions and instructional comments. I shared at an Al-Anon meeting on Tuesday night that any unrest or unhappiness I experience is most often due to my not accepting someone or a situation exactly as it is. And accepting means basically it is what it is and there’s nothing on the face of the earth I can say or do to change anything. I’m glad for the awareness as it keeps the focus on myself and the fact that I’m responsible for my serenity. There’s a line in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous……”And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today……..I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and my attitudes.” In my more rational moments, I truly understand the importance of acceptance and gratitude for everything exactly as it is without judgement. Thanks for letting me share. loulou
I lost my first response — but I had just begun. (I need to begin using another computer online and I’m resisting that — and I was just writing about surrender versus resistance.) Surrender is one of those things — and I need to consciously practice it — that hurts most before I do it. That place of acceptance/surrender brings peace and lessens pain no matter what I’m going through. Good to hear from you again. You sound well. Melody
Just wanted to be part of the group as I haven’t written anything on the site for a while however I have been checking what others have shared. I’m finally, hopefully, gaining acceptance of the death of my son from the ravages of addiction over eight years ago however am still powerless of the choices of his younger brother who is still, through the Grace of God, alive. He spent a few days at my house as he was working with me on a job and was talking with me yesterday morning before I went to work. He still struggles from time to time with substances and I found myself getting pulled back into the “instructional” and somewhat manipulative mode of indicating how much I “wish” he was in recovery and not in his current lifestyle. Of course, I had to throw a few tears which were genuine in there for effect, knowing full well that there’s nothing I can say or do to change a thing. Ive been attenting Al-Anon meetings long enough to have a full grasp of that knowledge, but we fell into some old patterns. It never ends well with both of us feeling bad. Next time this situation arises I hopefully will have learned to keep my comments to myself and just listen. The fact that he shares with me is a gift and he’s an adult and wasn’t asking for my input or suggestions. Offering suggestions keeps me in the delusionary mindset that I have any control of his life. Mistakenly believing that there’s something, anything I could say to change things. If I had responded differently rather than reacting as I did, I would have had a better chance at holding on to my serenity rather than doing that codependent dance that be have practiced to perfection. Lessons, for me at least, are always learned retroactively but at best, I’m still teachable. Thanks for letting me share. loulou
All these behaviors we call “codependent” or “grief” are normal human responses to sometimes horrific situations. So often what we perceive as anger or someone being upset with us is their guilt (which we almost all have when someone we love dies). It’s not real — it’s a stage of the grieving process and you’re living with a tough and tenuous situation. There is no perfect way to do it, LouLou. I have a “three times” rule for myself. When I care about someone, really care, I will say what I have to say (when I’m worried about him or her) three times. Then that’s it. No more. I don’t care if I have to literally bite my tongue or put my hand over my mouth. Three times. They’ve heard me. I said what I needed to say. Now it’s time for me to focus on myself. It sounds like you’re handling this situation very well, as well as any human being could. Best, Melody
Hi Loulou and Melody, I haven’t been on the site much either loulou, been too busy doing life and not perfectly for sure but like you and all here I’m showing up and I think we need to give ourselves credit for this. I have had a great deal of anger coming up, I feel like a walking volcano and I don’t like it but at the same time I am listening instead of being mad at myself for feeling as I do! I finally got that this is a stage of grief I feel about my mother languishing at deaths door, and the life long destruction I have witnessed with my siblings who are still actively using drugs and alcohol. It all feels like too much for too long to me lately. I vacillate between feeling sad or guilty for what is going on in their lives to more recently just feeling furious for the waste of life. I have no right to judge their journey or choices… it’s about my helplessness, lack of power to ‘fix’ them, and the fear of what could happen? My youngest brother is facing the deal offered by the DA of 12 years or 25 to life should he ask for a jury trial. He is 52 and has spent more time in prisons than out of them. I wrestle with guilt that I can’t be there to help the brother who by proximity is carrying the weight of over seeing the situations with our mother and brother and the sister who calls him to fix her plumbing pay her bills and rescue her out of her current dilemma…. But Al-Anon has taught me also loulou that just as you said repetitive instruction with the underlying hope of manipulating the result I want and think is right is not my job, minding my own business is. I see situations with my adult children and their children that my life experience tells me could evolve into … and my mind can then race frantically about the potential future catastrophes they, unlike I, fear and anticipate. I like what you said about the ‘delusionary mindset” of having control, I am going to remind myself of this when my fear gets in the drivers seat. I also appreciate how you pin pointed the result of doing the codependent dance as being about You losing Your serenity.I needed to hear this. I verbally vomited my ‘concerns’ to my son yesterday and retroactively is how my learning curve works also, I know I need to make amends for having done so and work all the more on myself and less on what I ‘fear’ might happen in his future. I think being teachable is to create the change in ourselves we hope to see in the world we live in. Let it begin with me is what I keep telling myself. I have been reading a book that I am finding helpful with regard to past trauma. Although I know logically all the ‘reasons and circumstances’ for my fathers death when I was 15, the visceral deeply felt sense of losing anyone I love can feel like impending doom… a done deal almost. Anyway the title of the book is”Disarming the Narcissist” and although it sounds like what the title implies, I have found where I am reading now in chapter two; Understanding the Anatomy of Personality; Schemas and the Brain” information that is helping me to identify why such powerful emotions in essence, haunt me. Specifically detailing the messages one can receive that become biased assumptions connected to emotional experiences and self defeating patterns or maladaptive beliefs that continue to show up as dysfunctional life themes or life traps. I love Al-Anon and it helps me maintain my equilibrium, but for me there continues to be very powerful emotional themes in my psyche that my self talk can only diffuse, until the next time. A dear friend recently told me you need meds… and to this I said I love and respect you, but nothing in me tells me this is my answer. I have learned to listen to the intuitive voice that tells me what I need and meds that helped me in the past for SAD are not what my inner voice is telling me is needed now. Truth is I understand fairly well what causes narcissism and how it feels to be on the receiving end of the behaviors associated with it, but I am acutely aware now that my way to deal with the wounding it caused me, is to either withdraw emotionally, or practically feel like a rabid animal fighting for my life in defense of it. Neither is the Serenity I know and have felt when I am not engaged in one or the other of these defense modes. My sponsor was diagnosed with brain cancer and I have been doing battle with messages that I refuse to allow myself to believe… anymore. Here I am all these later still feeling I am held prisoner to emotions that had to do with a one time life experience exacerbated by the messages that preceded and followed it and I just know I want to be free from the grip this has had over my life. My heart goes out to you, I think of and pray for you and it is good to see your post. Your strength and courage in what you share is what shines through and inspires me to believe as does the things that Melody has written and shares also, to not lose heart and to know that I do have the power to choose what I am going to do with the 24 hours in front of me. Blessings and Thanks to all, Denise
Yesterday I wrote a long response to you and because this computer is suffering, I lost that one too. Just didn’t have time to redo. Recently a guy who I’ve since become friends with asked me to endorse his newly published book on narcissism and codependency. I don’t have time to do it but we’ve been talking concepts via email and are on the same page. I believe we’re in for some changes in our thinking about the roots of dysfunction. My hope is to be part of this, too. Is your brother going to jail on the three-strikes deal? If so, let me know if you want any free help for him or if letting go is the best thing for you to do. Good to hear from you again. Best, Melody
Hi Melody, Thank you for your post. I’ve lost a few posts myself and know the feeling of not being able to redo it. I need to speak with my brother in recovery and pray. My brother and I both feel sick over what has happened. We told our younger brother to stay away from mom but he was driven to obsession that he needed to ‘help’ her. Unless one has lived with a narcissists there is no way to understand what this does to the mind. I am BEYOND pleased to hear of your friends book. I used to wonder why my mother was the same when she didn’t drink as when she did only worse, until I read about narcissism in 2007 and the biggest aha of my life happened. I have been obsessed with researching all I can find about the developmental stages 0 to 5. There is so much going on in this time frame that I believe parents/people in general are unaware of… add to this a seriously dysfunctional or mentally ill parent and it is no wonder we have prisons over crowded with people who I feel I can safely say didn’t set out with this in mind for their life. Enough said, I could go on and on and I’m preaching to the choir. There’s nothing I can say or tell you that you don’t already know. I’m going to speak with my brother and get back to you. One of those interesting coincidences… April 28 was our fathers birthday. The last time you wrote something so deeply moving to me was also an important anniversary date in my life. I only know that God knows the timing and how this works in the story of our lives. Thank you for being here. With Love and Gratitude, Denise
You sound good. Strong, even in your vulnerability. I’m afraid to write much more as I need to stop using this computer but 1) get attached to them and 2) have so many programs on them that take so much work to transfer to new computers. I’m going to have to do it soon anyway. Best, Melody ,
Hi Melody, Again thank you for your offer. I spoke with my brother who has been helping our brother from the outside via speaking with the public defender and an attorney. Our brother already went to court last Monday and accepted the 12 year ‘deal’. I do not believe there is anything anyone can do at this point. Our mother tried to rescind what she said on the 911 tape but no amount of back pedaling could change it. We know what happened but how it sounds and what the legal system tells us it must do about it are out of our hands. The bell can’t be un-rung. So we will help him through visits, letters, phone calls( quite a money making racket now) and prayer. I feel the book I am to write is about what has occurred and how it did, for my brother. From my perspective and experience it never had to, or should have, period. It is a statement about all the many ways the ball gets dropped along the way for those who have no power, voice or money. How much justice can one afford remains a truism in the economy of man but not so I remind myself, with God. We are the body, His hands and feet, and to this end I humbly ask of my Creator what is your will? what can I do? I feel I am to be a voice for my brother in the ways in which he has none. I look forward to reading your friends book on Narcissism and Codependency, what is the title and when will it be out? It absolutely resonated with me that this is what the next level will address as it so needs to be. We are not seeing what we are today due only to the disease of addiction by any stretch of the imagination. It is in my opinion about a mult-generational perfect storm effect with a myriad of factors that need to be known and understood for what they are and how and what we as a society have evolved into as a result. Anyway I’m headed toward a rant and need to stop. I just know I will do what I can where God has me and pray for strength and guidance for all who are doing the same. Let it begin with me is what I find myself saying today. Thank you more than my words can express, for your support and concern. My heart is encouraged. Denise PS I understand why you are holding out on getting a new computer. My ph just died and I was forced to get a new one and need a tutorial on how to use it. Was told I have to have this and that and the eye rolling that happened when my response was I just want to make a ph call and for the damn thing to work is that too much to ask? … oh well. I’ll keep this in my prayers as I realize you must seriously have a lot to do to make the changes. May the transition be reasonably smooth and the results worth the time and effort. Ease and familiarity of use count for a lot in my world too.
That’s why I asked — it felt like you had looked at this from every angle and arrived at a place where you need to be. Sometime, I’d like to hear more about this story. It interests me from a screenplay/TV movie angle. That is such a powerful way to educate people, and it’s education that must happen or the world we leave behind will be in a worse place than the one we found. We (culture) got off to such q great start after the sixties, and then we dive-bombed. I don’t understand the problem — or the solution. I could yammer, but it makes me yawn. I relate to the computer phone thing. That’s why I keep losing so many emails — I just don’t want to have to reload all these programs into another computer. Dread it. So I suppose when the pain from not changing gets worse than the pain from change, I’ll do it. Have a decent, good weekend all. Melody
Hi Melody. An institution from Guatemala is interested to contact you so you can come to this country and give an speech to a group of women. What do we need to do to make this happen, is it possible for you to come? Thanks in advance!
I appreciate the invitation, but I haven’t travelled to give speeches for many years. My best work is in my writing, and I’m now writing for television. Thank you for the caring invitation, though. Best, Melody
Thanks Melody.
Melody, Thank you a hundred thousand googles of gratitude for your work, sharing your experiences, and continuing to write. Your example, story, and experiences have helped me for decades now ( I still use my originial copy of “The Language of Letting Go devotional guide) Thank you thank you for the relevance of all you write–your words have gotten me through some very tough times and somehow, I keep finding new healing by working the plan. I grieve for the loss of the beautiful young man who my son was before he deployed three times overseas, got wounded multiple times, and returned home changed forever. I miss him as he once was, and hold tight to those momentary glimpses I can catch of his former self. I just miss him.
Your story is heart-breaking. These young men go to protect and serve our country, and come back so damaged. I’m sorry that both of you are going through this trauma and loss. My heart is with you. You sound strong; I know you will make it through. I just wish you didn’t have to. Best, Melody Beattie
Hi Lunchlady! I am so very sorry for your loss. If it is any consolation, I know exactly how you feel. We lost our precious son Craig on October 22, 2012 at the age of 22 to an accidental drug overdose. It has been the most devastating thing that could ever happen to us. There are days that I don’t think I can get out of bed, but then there are other days that I feel Craig right beside me. My faith, family, and friends have been very helpful. All I know is that we are still here and we have a life to live the best way we can. We can only do the best we can. Some days that is not very good at all, and others it is not quite so heavy. I truly believe that the days that the burden is not so heavy are the days that Craig is nearest to me. I have also found a support group in the area that has been very helpful. I really needed to talk to people who had the same experience. And this forum has been helpful too. Just to sit and type out my thoughts and feelings and hear from those who know exactly how I feel is very helpful. If you can take each day, hour, minute at a time, reach out to others for company and support, and be really nice to yourself it helps. It helped me and I hope this has helped you!!!!
Hello everyone, My name is Linda and I am new to this site. I lost my youngest son (Chris who was 34) to cancer in October of 2012. I am having a hard time dealing with this, but I am going to counceling and welcome any comments or suggestions by those that have been through this.. Thanks for listening
Hi. Am glad you found the site, but not glad you need to be here — so sorry to hear of the loss of your son. It doesn’t matter the age of our child — he or she can be two days or fifty years — it’s still and always will be our deeply-loved child and the process of grieving this loss takes a very long time. A woman came up to me in the ICU ward when my son was killed in an accident. She was a nurse. “It’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever been through,” she said. It’s going to take about eight years. But, you will make it through it,” she said. I couldn’t stand to hear those words — I didn’t want to get through it because that meant accepting the loss. You have just begun a profound journey. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should feel, or how long you should feel it. You are the master of this journey — or rather grief is, at it heals our heart from taking the risk to love deeply. You will find support here — but no judgments. It’s a “come as you are — and feel as you are,” site. We don’t believe that grief is self-pity; we believe it’s a natural response to losing someone we deeply love. People have formed forums on different aspects of loss. Poke around. You may find one or two that appeal to you. And please, please be gentle with yourself. This is the hardest thing you will ever go through and it will take longer than you want it to; it will feel different than you think it should. The best way to love yourself is to let yourself feel whatever you do. Many of us find year one overwhelming. But gradually we learn how to distract ourselves temporarily when the pain becomes too much. You will too. Again, I’m sorry you need to be here — but welcome to the site. Melody Beattie
Dear Melody, I have written before to you about a relationship I was in for 13yrs. and ended in Dec. 2010. I have tried forgetting about it but it still hurts…you see, I always thought my ex and I would reunite…. however, I just found out and have for sometime that she may be with someone else by now? My suspcions were right and now I find myself going through the greiving process as though we had just broken up, even after 2+ yrs ! Can’t seem to think straight nor stop crying. What can I do? I hurt so much….and can’t seem to find any relief! I’m sick over it and want to stay strong, yet it’s so hard. Thanks for listening. Nameste, Jan
I can’t and don’t do therapy online — but as an online friend, I can say that I suspect you’ve kept the grief process at bay by hoping you’d get back together. When reality hit, so did grief — full force. The key is, you won’t get through it by staying strong. The only way through is by becoming vulnerable, and by surrendering to everything you really feel, but don’t want to: the pain, overwhelming grief, all of it. Grief isn’t tidy, and it isn’t neat. It’s ugly, awkward, and painful. But you will begin a journey that will take you, eventually, to a new place in your life. Search the site. Find some forums that speak to you. Start talking. Stop trying to be strong — you don’t need to be and it won’t help. Again, the only rules are: do not hurt yourself; don’t hurt anyone else; and don’t let someone hurt you. Please stay in touch. Best, Melody
I think it is better to contact you privately, but I have no way to do that, so here it all is. Our lives are almost mirrors! I used to drink/do drugs, I overdosed, I was kidnapped by a major Motorcycle Club, I was raped twice (not by the MC), My son died when he was 18, and through all the trauma, I learned lessons. I used it all to help others. It makes it mean something positive if we help even one person. I lived in Arizona growing up, and my grandmother (Goldie) had a friend, Mary Beattie, who came out from Ohio, I think it was, to visit and she brought with her, her grandaughter Melody. I do not know if Beattie is a maiden name for you, or even if Mary’s granddaughter Melody’s last name WAS Beattie, but I AM curious. I love your writing and what you do. Keep up the good work and fight the good fight! Namaste, Marie PS- I can be contacted by emailing me at helenahanbasket1 at gmail.
Hi. Thanks for writing. Beattie is the name of my ex-husband, my children’s father. While there was a “Mary” involved in that side of his family, doesn’t sound — in fact I’m sure — it’s not the Mary you’re talking about. But there are many similarities in our paths — even though we’re not in the same bloodline/family. No need to contact me personally. I advise all people on this site to do so using an anonymous name; the purpose of the site is to support each other, and heal together. Because I have my paying career — plus my websites, which I do as giveback, for free — there is no way I could respond to posters personally. I wish I could, but by responding personally to each post, I am doing my best to become and stay connected to my readers. It sounds like you’re working on yourself — and I am sorry to hear of the loss of your child. There is nothing worse. Period. Again, thanks for posting. I hope you return, as we all strive to make this site a great place to heal our hearts and help others do the same while we move forward through our lives. Best, Melody
Just returned from my Sunday AA meeting which is always a blessing. Feeling an overwhelming amount of gratitude for my sobriety for the last ten years as well as all the seemingly inconsequential things which amount to Everything in my life. I don’t take any of it for granted anymore. Everything from getting up in the morning until I get into bed at night. Grateful for everyone in my life and for all the lessons, no matter how difficult and for opportunity to make peace with it all. I was sharing with a fellow member while getting some coffee after the meeting. I was asking how his son is as he is struggling with substances and I told him that my older son died from this disgusting disease of addiction . He wasn’t aware of that and he asked me….”how did you deal with that?” I quickly replied “soberly, through the Grace of God”. I added that I was still experiencing many different stages of grief, but grateful that I Can experience them without having to distract myself from the feelings by any self-destructive methods that I once used. Been experiencing some profound sadness which comes in waves but doesn’t malinger. It’s like there’s this huge room with many doors and regardless of which door I use to enter, the feelings inside are all centered around my grief. I seem to stay for a while then thankfully open a door and leave. I don’t choose when I’m going to enter the room….I just find myself in there….maybe I heard a song that reminded me of my son or, like today, had a conversation about him, or remembered something he said and next thing I know, I’m in there. I feel like it’s OK to go in as I know I can leave. It’s a safe place for me to come and go and it feels like it just happens but I believe that it’s me giving myself permission to own my sadness and anger and resentment that my son had to die. Just some rambling thoughts that I wanted to share. Thanks for being there, loulou
Hi Melody, It may just be that getting our heart soul and mind in communication with one another is the journey. I love what I read in; Care of the Soul by Thomas Moore : “Observance of the soul can be deceptively simple. You take back what has been disowned. You work with what is, rather than what you wish were there. If our purpose is to first observe the soul as it is, then we may have to discard the salvational wish and find deeper respect for what is actually there. By trying to avoid human mistakes and failures, we move beyond the reach of soul. I similar fashion this is what I have been reminded of reading your book. The full circle journey that brings us back to who we always were… like Dorothy in Wizard of Oz. There really is no place like home, ( the one that lives within us ) but we can travel a long way before we can settle in and fully appreciate the comforting and comfortable place it was meant to be. Anyway thanks for writing it, it has some good nuggets as a friend of mine says and I’m finding the sign posts I need. Blessings, Denise
Last night I watched “Wreck it Ralph,” a children’s animated movie. Yet it had such a powerful message about appreciating who each of us is — the value of ourselves, as is. It’s a worthwhile watch (for parents and kids). Simple, yet powerful in its message, one I don’t tire of hearing. I cannot tell you how much of my life I’ve spent resisting this or that feeling, or thing I want or am inclined to do, only to discover that’s what I’m meant to feel and who I’m meant to be. My favorite word is stil “Jnana” – the Tibetan word for learning from experience, the kind where we plod through life thinking nothing is going on, only to have the lights come on and realize something valuable. Those kinds of lessons can never be lost; they stick forever (but sometimes we forget). Best, Melody
A note to all: my computer was acting up a little — if any of you see any spam, please let me know right away. All posts come through my personal inbox first, but there’s been such an overload of spam trying to get through lately, and what with the glitching, I don’t want anyone sneaking in. So don’t hesitate to let me know if an advertiser or some other form of spam gets by me. Thanks, Melody (I wish they’d just go away — the spammers.)
Hi Melody, I haven’t seen Wreck it Ralph but I’m going to get it. I have though been watching many of the children’s'animated films with my grandson and wonder how did I not watch these before! Recently watched “Brave” and Finding Nemo a zillion times and never tire of seeing it. Simple truths are the best for my child heart. Especially helpful for me after feeling like my mind has been turned inside out and upside down in this ever competitive and in my opinion ‘too much is never enough world’ I find myself trying to keep pace with. I recently went into the ‘neighborhood’ B of A I have banked at for 30 plus years and wondered where I was?? They put up bullet proof walls between customer and teller and I just felt sad. The tellers speak a form of English but treat me as if I am the foreigner which more and more I am feeling I am. I stood there remembering bringing my children in and the tellers knowing them and me by name, even having gone through school with some of their children, it was a community and neighborhood of people who knew and understood one another. But this is as gone as the place called Valley of Hearts Delight now known as Silicon Valley where I have lived 55 years. Progress… masked in greed and consumerism how much disposable income does one have and two income families barely able to make astronomical house pymts, high dollar competition for pre-schools???…… so bizarre. I’m planting my vegetable garden, going to can and cook my own food, do my own yard work, and teach those things taught to me by the elders of the past generation. I imagine getting older can bring a sense of languishing in’ how things were’, for many people… but neither can I entertain the belief it was ever so much so as it is today. Oh well… Not being political just real with what is. Denise
Thanks Denise and Liz for your updates. Being a gardening contractor and designer for as many years as I have and through the Grace of God, being in very good health, I’m just going to keep on doing what I’m doing until I can’t do it anymore and it’s what I love. I’m starting out there again this week and have alot of customers who depend on my services so “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”, right?? I have to follow the 12 Steps with everything, not just with my co-dependency. One Day At A Time and Let Go and Let God are the slogans for me today as that’s all any of us really has……today….and for today, I’m grateful to say that all is well. When the Universe indicates that I’m to do something else, I pray to be willing to see what it is. What a wonderful concept a support group is for parents who have lost children to the disease of addiction. Again this website offers many of those benefits as it alleviates some isolation and frustration brought on by attempting to share our particular grief with those who are fotunate enough to not have experienced it. Unless one has been through the death of a child, again for whatever reason, relating to this particular type of grief is difficult. I’m so grateful to be part of this community even if the initial reason that I found it was the most heartbreaking reality I’ve ever had to face. God bless us all and thanks so much for letting me share. loulou
Hi Loulou, I couldn’t agree more … If it aint broke don’t fix it
Please don’t fix it I would add! It’s wonderful in my opinion that you are doing work that you love and have the health and customer base to continue doing so. I was laid off my job so doing the footwork and trusting the process of transformation is where I am” One Day at a Time.” I am grateful Melody created this forum and that those who participate respect the sacredness of this journey. Fresh air, sunshine and hands in the earth… sounds wonderful. God Bless you in this season of your life. Denise
I still have to address my anger at my son Michael. He was a wonderful person, but a handful to me. I was very co-dependent in my relationship to him….always. I tried to control him since he was a young child. I found some notes the other day when going through some of my papers….things to tell the new therapist that I noticed about it. I was questioning if I was to blame because I had a high-forceps delivery that they would never do today. Michael got mixed up with pot when he was in high school. I know he was doing other drugs, but no one believed me. He was so talented, but insisted on his dreadlocks, facial hair, etc. Who would want to hire him? He was a rock climber & so my husband thought, “How could he climb those dangerous rocks while smoking pot?” Then…there is this business of Red Bull & the other high caffeine junk they sell in the supermarket. Mike would chug those down. He made me crazy. I can’t even begin to tell the story of Michael. I don’t know if he died from a drug overdose. He was on a climbing trip in Colombia. The final autopsy report is inconclusive…just stating he had respiratory & heart failure, possibly from altitude, but then they found some heroin prep in the bathroom where his body was found. The Colombian’s wrote heroin overdose on his death certificate, but found none in his body. I can’t look at those papers. I feel ill when I see them. I question myself for not being able to stop him. I know this is crazy co-dependency, but it is there. I spent so much of my life being angry with him and walking on eggshells because I couldn’t face conflict. Another remnant from my childhood. Here’s another thing….Michael kept journals. We were able to get most of them back. My husband has read all of them. I have no interest in reading them. My husband tells me how much he loved us….& missed us. It’s in his journals. I’m just so tired of all the “trying to fix Michael” over the years. I wonder where my life went, between him & my mother & the needs of my husband. Everyone needing something from me. I kept fighting for what I wanted for me….at least I did that, but still that was only after taking care of everyone else. Yes…my anger runs deep. I ask myself that terrible question, “Is it better that Michael died?” What if he fell off one of those cliffs & was paralyzed? I’m sure he never paid his health insurance. What if I was left to take care of him? I used to ask him that. He would laugh….”oh Mom, you worry to much.” The Christmas before he died he came to visit us. His visits were always filled with high emotion & usually some outburst of anger from me. I had grown out of tolerance for how he cared for himself & his looking to pick any argument with me. I despise arguing, but it was always there. My husband would tell me to ignore him, but I couldn’t do it any longer. I was finished with the eggshells. For some unknown reason I got it into my head that he wasn’t leaving Florida without executing a last Will & medical directives. He was furious. I was furious. My husband told me to “leave it alone.” I refused which was odd for me. I insisted on a POA. I copied all our papers & filled in his name & dragged him off to have them notarized. Oh, there was fury. But…talk about Angels….if we didn’t have those papers we wouldn’t have been able to bring his remains home from Colombia. Now, I ask myself….did I do the wrong thing & put the idea of death into his head? My crazy head again. While my husband has hinted at it, he never came right out & said it, but I’ve thought it. I’ve finally moved past this because to my mind, anyone who does the crazy things he did, even in the name of sport ( and drugs?) should have their final papers in order. Leaving parents with that mess to deal with on top of grieving the loss is more than a parent of a grown child should have to manage. I believe I’ve made peace with him & I have forgiven him…at least I hope so, but there are some remnants there. I loved him so much….is it possible to love too much? I insisted on taking his remains to the cremation fire & had a wonderful man who was in charge also encourage me. But, sometimes when I talk to Michael I still find myself reprimanding him for throwing away his life & taking so much of mine. But, then I say, “I am your mother….I am still your mother….even though you are dead….& I want you to really know how I feel & how I felt through all of the turmoil of your life….yes you, my precious son. OH….I think I was just doing some automatic writing. I know I can do it here. Thank you.
Thank you for stopping by and sharing. I’m sorry about all you’ve been through — and are going through. You’re right; it’s a lot. Whe people say, “God never gives us more than we can handle,” I have to bite my tongue. I’ve seen many given more than they can handle, and have been there myself. But eventually, we work it out — or not. I just wanted to share that for years after my son Shane died, I read the obituarities every day. I didn’t know then why I was doing it, but one day I realized I was looking for some validation of life spans. Some people lived a day; some two days; some two months, two years; some twnety years, some 42, and some 113. I even found a story about a woman (113 years old) in a nursing home. Her doctor was trying to make her stop smoking because “smoking causes death.” It made me laugh. Life causes death. I found some strange relief from reading obituaries; I don’t need to do it anymore. Whatever lesson I had to learn, I learned. I think that at deep levels, our souls are sorting through our lessons as we do our emotions and sort out things. Anyway, again I’m sorry about you losing Michael. It takes away so much of our life — losing a child. Let us know how you’rr doing. Melody
Funny, you wrote that. I’ve read obituaries for years. I don’t do it anymore, probably because we no longer get a real newspaper, but I always find myself clicking on stories of death, horrible accidents, etc. It doesn’t have to be anyone famous…just something terrible. When I read of young athletes dying, I almost feel strangely relieved, as if Michael has company. I feel better knowing someone else is suffering a loss. I know this is terrible. I also think it is why I went into nursing and being a therapist. I wanted to be near what I feared the most. I remember wanting to be near people who were dying. In the beginning, I was afraid, but once I experienced it, like an addict, I wanted more & more. As I look back, this obsession and it is an obsession, started in my early childhood. My father was killed in an auto accident when I was three. I developed a fear of ambulances, accidents, blood, and death. I was afraid to come home and go in the house for fear of a murderer. I never told anyone about this during the time of these experiences and know it was the reason for so many of my addictions, etc. While I thought I had figured this out years ago, now….with the death of Michael and everything that happened, I feel the obsession returning and I don’t want that. Perhaps this is the reason I pushed my grieving out of the way….it is a “fear” of grieving. Maybe I’m believing subconsciously that it is “too big and too complicated”. What do you think? I know I won’t go to a therapist, because I know therapists. It would take me a lifetime to get through all of this…even just to explain it. I don’t want to spend time doing that, but I do want to get clear. This is why I’m here, reading your books, listening to my own work ( strange as that sounds ) and journaling with meditation. The insights are coming. Wish I could stop picking my cuticles. Well, hopefully this will end when I locate that core of inner peace. Thanks…
I think I read the obituarities because it helped me know that I wasn’t singled out (for losing Shane). There was a strange comfort knowing that each of us had a unique and different life span — and one day is as valid as one hundred years. It also seems like death has followed me much of my life. The first kind family I met (I was about 13 and in the hospital for an appendectomy), and the father was so nice to me. No incest. No abuse. He invited me to be part of his family. I so wanted what they had. I went to their house for dinner — he had a wife and a son. About two months later I was watching the news and they announced that my new friend had “died in a fire in his home.” Just like that — gone. It’s been happening like that ever since. I was told once that I have the energy of transformation, and sometimes transformation can be so intense it includes transformation from life to what we call death. But who knows? I do know that I’m no longer scared of death. Since my son’s death, I’ve found myself “helping” many people die — being there for them, letting them talk, visiting them in hospice. When I moved to California, the first friend I made I learned — about six months later — was dying from AIDS. That was back when having AIDS was like getting a death sentence, not like it is now. Before I knew it, he was gone. In 2004, all three of my ex-husbands died — two died back to back, one died one day, the other the next. I called ex number three and warned him to be careful. He told me not to worry. Within the year, they found him dead in his hotel room. I never wanted to think much about death until Shane died, and then I became interested in what happens when we die. I began searching for answers (as many as we can get). I went to one therapist, actually two. One visit each. One wanted me to write an endorsement for her book. The other I went to the first year after Shane’s death. I told her I felt numb, felt “not alive” — no desires, nothing. She said, “Well, then just feel numb. Ninety-five dollars, please.” That was the best $95 I spent. It was the beginning of me learning to be present for each moment, each feeling, each event — without judgment. I’m just not certain that therapists can be of that much assistance with grief — except for PTSD, and the rapid-eye movement that releases trauma. It’s a one or two-time thing; I was skeptical. I’ve since heard that when we have large disasters, they send teams of people trained in this to the site to help people. I know that when I use the technique on myself, it releases blocked trauama. Just “Stuff” I’ve learned — but I’ve also come to believe that we each have our own journey of lessons and experiences to go through, a journey that’s right for each of us. It’s definitely not a “one size fits all” experience. I’m glad you found the site. The journaling, the meditation, the sharing — all tools that will help you on this journey. Don’t overlook things you feel compelled to do. We never know when a seemingly insignificant action can be exactly what we need to do next. LIke I said, the only rules I have are: don’t hurt anyone else; don’t let anyone hurt us; and don’t hurt ourselves. Other than that, it’s up to each of us to carve our way through this thick over-handing forrest of branches, trees, nettles and brsh as we find a clearing and a place of peace. I know you’ll find it. (I pick at my nails when I have anxiety. I just let myself do it, knowing when the anxiety passes, so will the picking.) My God, we have to do something or we’d implode or explode. Best, Melody
ElizRN, I want to respond to what you shared about the obsession with death ambulances blood etc. I felt similar feelings through out my childhood. It felt as if ‘death’ took up more space than life. In my situation there was extreme violence in my home, beatings and fighting that landed the people in the hospital ER etc. My parents would physically fight while driving, with I and my siblings crouching on the floor boards in the back praying we would not all be killed in an accident. While in one of these fights on the way home from a bar (thankfully we children were not with them) my parents crashed into a very big tree going 75 to 80 mph. My father died instantly, my mother ended up in the hospital for 2 mths before she came home in a body cast with a trach and many other complications. They were 39 and 32 respectively at the time with 4 children. I was the oldest. I feared and still do sometimes of someone breaking into my house in the middle of the night, I have a loaded gun which helps me to be able to go to sleep thinking at least I’ll have a chance if the ‘murderer’ does break in. I have to pull my car over when I come upon an accident because I still have a major PTSD reaction, my heart pounds, I feel like I can’t breath and instantly have an irrational fear that it is someone I know, worst of all being one of my children, my daughter lives in another state so today the irrational fear extends only to my son or his children. It DOESN”T matter that one cell in my brain knows this is irrational or why. The day of my fathers funeral which I made arrangements for at 15 yrs old, I opened the mail box to find divorce papers filed by my mother to my father. Divorce and Death became inextricabley linked in my psych from that day forward. All the violence ending in death … the same death I felt as a tangible presence as a child, no longer haunts me as it did for many years, thanks to a devoted counselor who held my hand and worked with me for 5 years, followed by a very compassionate sponsor in the 12 step program of Al-Anon. I was encouraged to grieve but I believed I had and did as much as I was able to. I experienced many more losses before the damn of grief broke and swept me up with a force I had absolutely no control over. It was as horrible and worse than I ever imagined but it was transformative in a way I find impossible to express. I couldn’t refuse to acknowledge my losses, but I could refuse and did to allow myself to feel what it meant that they happened. Until life brought the straw that broke me into many pieces, which at the time couldn’t be put back into the picture I had in my mind. Absolutely nothing made sense when this happened and I didn’t care if it ever did. All I know is to be this helpless is never a choice one will choose. It chooses you like a tidal wave would, and there is no fighting it, powerless takes on it’s truest meaning as I knew I was in no way in control of anything, most or least of all the emotions that had become me. Death was also something that I feared greatly. As life went on I found peace with this. I worked in hospice and witnessed people passing and this removed the last tiny shred of fear that remained for me. I saw a shell that housed the soul and knew for sure, for myself ,that in fact the soul alive and present in one moment had left the house it lived in, in the next. The obsession… I only know mine returns when I am under stress, the hyper-vigilance and not being able to sleep are some of the ways my ‘coping’ mechanisms kick in except that I am aware they are serving to help me distance myself until I am better able to deal. Obsession with death was really obsession with life and wanting to hold on to it, for me. Being able to think out loud on this site continues to help me process the new layers and lessons that life brings. I pray for consolation and peace as you seek your answers. Denise
Hi ElizRN, I just read your post… and I am glad you can think out loud here. It helps. Loss and grief can cause us to question everything we ever believed to be true or possibly even good about life. There seem to be more questions than answers, but knowing that others have them too, has helped me to feel less alone when I ask. Denise
Loulou, I’m wondering if you are looking at going back to school or investigating what’s out there with a job change? I have been doing a lot of research on line and find the more I look the more confused I get! I purchased some books tonight to hopefully get some new insights or direction. Just wondering how things are going for you with making a transition. Denise
Thank you Lou Lou. I agree, this site is very helpful. I am also very fortunate to have found a support group in my area for parents who have lost their child to substance abuse. Last Sunday was the first session – it was one of 8 total sessions. I think it is going to be very helpful and I also think it might be a way to meet others who have lived through this tragedy and want to do something positive about it. We need to find a way to help others who have children suffering from this disease, somehow…. I believe it will help me to help others.
Thanks, Melody, for the support and insights regarding self-pity vs. grief. I can now experience the overwhelming sadness once again as I did immediately after my son died with out the emotional chains of self-pity cutting off my feelings. I really believed, that after a certain amount of time it wasn’t “OK” to “wallow” anymore. I really understand that having syptoms of grief over any loss, particularly that of a child is NOT wallowing inspite of the length of time since it happened. Gratefully, I’m not incapacitated by my grief but when it hits, I can’t say that I enjoy it but I accept it as part of the journey through that tunnel You re so, so right in saying how difficult it is for a person who hasn’t been through such a devastating loss to really grasp our reality and thank God they don’t have that awareness. Sometime at a meeting I will mention that my son died from this insideous disease to illustrate how powerless I am over any of it. I need to remember this especially if I ‘m trying to say something that I hope will impact my younger son. I know he’s doing better and I have to accept the fact that I’m powerless also over the degree of recovery he has or doesn’t have. I mention my son’s death not for the purpose of evoking pity but to illustrate the power of addiction and how little effect I had over any of it regarding my sons. It boils down to the Serenity Prayer and knowing it’s all out of my hands. Even close friends who haven’t been through this kind of loss, can only grasp what they can and I don’t feel any need to go on and on about it. Every person I know has his own, personal cross to bear and I didn’t corner the market because of my particular loss. To sum it up I have to say, again, how grateful I am for this site and for everyone who participates. Thanks for letting me share. loulou
Again LouLou, you are not wallowing. No parent in grief is wallowing. Each one would much prefer to have their child back. Walowing? Absolutely not. Self-pity? No. Grief is absolutely not self pity. It is the way life heals our hearts, even though the break line will always be present. Thingsn like “wallowiong” and “self-pity” are easy things for people who don’t understandn to say; in many cases, it’s all they know how to say. Many people feel that losing a child is contagious — if they get too close, it could happen to them. Most people don’t want to know how truly vulnerable they are, or to know that life can turn on a dime. It takes courage to live with knowing how vulnerable we all are, and to still live fully, with our hearts open. Not easy. Takes a long, long time – much longer than others or we think it should take. But to at least my great surprise, it is possible to someday become happy again. It took me about ten years, but I’m a slow learner (I was told it would take eight years). I just don’t think we can put limits and deadlines on our grief. Grief has a mind of its own, is very persistent and stubborn, and will not be ignored. And I agree with you — why should anyone who hasn’t lost a child have to know how it feels? The pain is so absolutely overhwhelming that unless it happens to us, we shouldn’t have to imagine it — and I don’t think it’s possible to imagine how much it really hurts. I didn’t know people could be in that much emotional pain and still keep breathing and living, keep moving forward. It’s not a club I ever wanted to join, and I would trade everything I have for ten more minutes with my son — but nobody has given me that choice, so I will take the next option, which is to reach out to others and do what I can to make his loss count. Thanks for taking part in the boards and for so openly sharing. Best, Melody
I hope I am not out of place posting here… I just want to express my gratitude for what you have said about grief Melody, that feeling it years later, I call this tidal waves that hit totally unexpected, is a continued and sacred part of the journey. I believe to the same degree and depth we have loved someone, especially our children, is to the same degree we grieve their absence. I also want to say that for me reading the posts shared by those of you who have lost your beloved sons and daughters, I sense the empathy of spirit and consolation that only you can give to and share with one another. My last sponsor was this person for me, the first person who understood in ways, with or without words as no one else ever had. I experienced a depth of healing by virtue of her understanding/ empathy that broke down walls that helped me to reclaim my life. It was/is a life without those I so deeply loved and miss that for the first time in 35 years, I didn’t feel guilty to live. My sponsors father shot and killed her mother in front of her. She was the oldest of 4, like myself. Being instantaneously orphaned by one parents’ act of violence upon the other defies expression. When she said I understand, I knew she did. It is this understanding I ‘hear’ and have experienced myself as I read the blog, what people share here and through the unconditional acceptance I feel when I share also. When I read what you share Melody, quite frankly I feel like a kid whose mother knows she can’t fix a broken heart, but understands that the balm of heartfelt listening and love can help an unbearable burden somehow, someway become bearable. I pray for what ever is needful for each broken heart, in the moments the need arises. Denise
Thanks for your beautiful and kind words. I can feel — as much as it’s possible for one human being to know the heart of another — how deeply you loved and cherished your sponsor. Some people blithley say that “people aren’t irreplaceable.” I don’t agree. Some people come along once in a lifetime, and losing them breaks out heart. Yes, we have the lessons and gifts, but we also deeply miss that person. I am so sorry you lost someone you love and value so much. I’m glad you had her — but I wish you didn’t have to lose her. It just hurts so much when we find these rare gifts of people on our journey, and then they go away before we’re ready to say goodbye. (Again, something else that goes on my “to be discussed” list with my HP when I get to the other side — but again, by then I”ll likely see things differently but that doesn’t matter because what matter is how we see and feel things right now. It’s important. OUr grief, our broken hearts are important. I’m so grateful that the Mayo Clinic finally acknowledged Broken Heart Syndrome as a true medical condition so we don’t have to sound so, well, sappy in the eyes of those who don’t understand and who think we’re being drama addicts by saying our hearts are broken. We’re not (being drama addicts). We’re paying the heavy price for loving and being loved so deeply, so honestly, so purely. I’m not going to say more; no more needs to be said. As you repoerted in your comment, the people on this site understand. I feel so blessed — and i know i say this over and over but I’ve seen sites filled with trolls and trouble-makers — but I feel so blessed for the wonderful human beings who have found this site and who take the time to give and receive support, who honestly share with each other, and who take part in this magical and mysterious — and very painful at times — process of healing. Thanks again. Best, Melody
Thank you for your kind and beautiful words. I hope I’m not duplicating my post; I lost a couple tonight. It’s one of two things – either it’s just a computer error, or I was meant to say what I wanted to say differently. But thanks, Denise. You are such a gift — and I feel so blessed with the people on this site. So many sites are loaded with trolls and negativity, yet on this site I find people, honest people willing to give and receive support. No games. Just love. Unconditional acceptance and sharing. Thank you so much for being one. Regarding your sponsor, your words overflow with the love you feel for her and your deep loss and broken heart. People are not replaceable; some come along once in alifetime. She absolutely sounds like one of those. I am so sorry you had to lose her before you were ready — although I’m not certain we’re ever ready. The only thing I can think is that we are fortunate to have loved this deeply; unfortunate to have lost the person we loved so much. I don’t get that part of life, but obviously I’m not meant to. All I know is that grief has taught me the difference between living one day at a time and being fully present for myself and each moment, and for everything I feel — whether it’s politically correct or not. Thanks again for taking time to comment, for being so supportive of the other members here, and most of all for being who you are. Best, Melody
Thanks Melody. I’ve been reading “Finding Your Way Home”. When did you write it? The copy right says 1998. I looked up the definition of copy right. But still uncertain…. does this mean you contracted in 1998 to write this book? All of this aside, again…. you don’t find books they find you. Since being off work two going into three months now I have been asking myself … who do I say I am? God already knows so why keep asking when he has been whispering in my ear: This is who I created you to be, all the years of my life. Now I am asking myself : What did you hear? You Do know…. because it’s in your heart, it’s in the prompting that you all too often dismiss as frivolous. It’s in every dream and idea that excites you, that you will not allow yourself to explore. Why does what you want….. get dismissed as if it was stupid that you thought of it in the first place? Who (in my head ) I am asking myself, is saying this to me? What has powerfully resonated with me is what you said on pg 103 ” I believe God answers prayers, but they’re the heartfelt prayers of my soul, not just the conscious pleas of my logical mind”. The purpose of my prayers are the requests that reveal to me who I am as well as who I am not. I had a life altering dream years ago so powerful that I had to draw a picture of it. In my dream, I was walking on beach and it was not the kind of beach I am familiar with living in California. Many years later I went to a beach in Destin Florida and realized this was the beach in my dream all those years ago. So as I was walking along this beach, a young girl sitting alone on a sand dune came into view. As I drew close enough, she turned her face up and looked at me… she radiated unconditional love and acceptance. I knew immediately she was me as a child. She said: I have been waiting for you. I felt sad for her and said: I didn’t know you would have to wait such a long time, I am sorry. It doesn’t matter, she told me, because you are here now. She stood up took my hand and I hugged her, feeling her joy and peace envelope me. Then we walked together down this beach with the soft warmth of sunlight and air and waves that sounded like music. This was an answer to the heartfelt plea of my soul, not my logical mind as you described it. My soul churned up the symbolic knowing that the self I left behind was no longer lost to me. As I have been reading Finding Your Way Home, the memory of what I know is coming back…. what is necessary is available, and no one is with holding anything from me, least of all God. I understand so deeply what you said about finding the home that fits. My own has always been crystal clear to me. The mountains with a creek close enough to hear, and trees that sway to and fro in Autumn with arms full of gold being cast into the wind, the sweet song of owl and cricket on warm summer nights, the cleansing rush of water booming down the mountain sides and my roof top too, this home is heaven on earth to me, the sanctuary ( on earth ) where my soul finds peace and contentment. I am so glad I ordered this book, I was meant to read it now. While doing the foot work regarding gainful employment, I find myself aware of the process not just the end result. Being present in the moment. If I wanted to go to Scotland I would make all the arrangements to get there, but since I do not want to be a spectator in my own life, reading this book is just what the Dr ordered.( Dr God, in my thoughts). Thank You for sharing the wealth of your experiences and the wisdom you mindfully cultivate as you go along. Much love being sent your way, Denise
Hi Denise. That was an odd bok. It was about when I was learning that there are things we learn that we don’t intellectually understand, bt that speak deeply to our souls. We learn these things by living our livds, and sometims by doing the most innocuous things. Anyway, thanks for writing. Best, Melody
I wanted to add tht the coyright generally indicates the year the book was released. However, after my son’s death I stopped doing publicity. Besdies not wanting to put myself out there as much, grieving mothers aren’t in high demand. I don’t know if people are afraid it’s contagious or what, but doing publicity just became not as important to me. I trusted that people would find my books when and if they needed them — probably not the best attitude from a commercial standpoint, but it was what I needed to do. I know that on those occasions when I did booksignings, I’d look at the pile of books I’d written and think, OMG, have I written all those? Yes, I did. And it is with self-esteem that I can say that I’ve not written the same book twice. Each has its own message, although I do wish that my contract for Stop Being Mean to Yourself hadn’t called for a strictly “self-help” book because it was a book about impending terrorism. I wrote it in 1999. In it I even wrote about a dream sequence about a 911 episode. I’d been doing a lot of traveling in the Middle East. I wanted to write about terrorism, and what it was doing around the world — but again my contract required me to write a self-help book — so I wrote the book I had to, not the one I wanted to. I worked so hard to sell Codependent No MOre, then that’s all the publishers wanted me to write (afer 20 of them turned it down). They forgot I began my career as a journalist. It’s been an interesting path. Now I’m writing teleplays and screenplays — and love it. It’s a huge challenge. I’ve taken the equivalent of a four-year college degree in courses and classes, but I love the new challenge and the ability to tell the story I want to tell, letting the message be more important than the messenger. I get frozen; stuck; doubt myself — all the things I did in the beginning. I have to force myself to take the next steps. But it’s all part of the process. Most of all, I welcome each new day. Again, as I said in my other post, Finding Your Way Home speaks to the soul, not to the intellect in a way that we don’t have to figure out. We can just let the message bewhat it is and take in what we need. I’m glad the book speaks to you. It’s the result of years of work on myself at that deep soul level, while I unraveled the past, my resistance to emotions, and began to see that every moment was guided and planned. That there are no accidents — even the accidents — and that our soul comes here for a specific journey that isn’t always in alignment with what we think we want. But then, I guess if we knew everything that was going to happen, it would be like going to a movie where we knew every single thing that was going to take place. It wouldn’t hold our interest. Anyway, thanks for your kind words and for writing in. Best, Melody
I just returned from one of my favorite 12-Step meetings which I attend on Sunday mornings at 10 AM. We parents who have the sad distinction of having lost a child for whatever reason, recognize our counterparts as sharing certain facts becomes general knowledge. I’ve always been very forthcoming about things in my life and my son’s death eight years ago from an overdose is no exception. There was a time when my life was one big secret after another and I wasn’t able be truthful about any of it until I started to heal from the issues about which I had so much shame. Through the Grace of God, those complicated things no longer are part of my life, but I still have lots of other things with which I’m dealing…but at least I can deal with them. One of the women in the meeting also lost her son, although I’m not sure if it was the same way and she said how she had avoided dealing with it as it was just too damn painful. We were talking after the meeting and I have a picture of my son on my phone and I showed it to her. She said that he looked just like me. I told her how amazed I was immediately seeing him after he was born at the resemblence we had. I’m adopted and had never looked like anyone in my whole life. I keep going back to that moment and just am reduced to tears that I had to lose half of the only blood relatives I have. I’m not feeling sorry for myself although I’m learning that grief isn’t the same as self-pity. I just am so sad that I can’t see his sweet face or hug my son anymore. I’m looking at his pictures more and more and sometimes I’m OK and can go on to the next thing but lately I just seem to fall apart. For lots of reasons, I just wasn’t able to get in touch with this grief for so long and now that I’m able to, it seems like it’s constant. I am grateful, however, I can experience it and share it and not feel guity about continually shaing it as I feel like I’m in a revolving door in this regard. I don’t want to postpone the sadness so that’s why I’m posting right now as I could have avoided this by doing something else but I think I understand that my feelings getting out are better than not dealing with them if I have the chance.Thanks for letting me share. loulou
You’re absolute right — there’s a world of difference between grief and self-pity. After my son died, many of my peers (counselors, therapists, etc.) gave me the scolding: “Oh, you’re just feeling sorry for yourself. Get over it.” Of course none of the people saying this had lost a child. Then about eight years after Shane’s death, I received a letter in the mail from one of these peers. She was making amends as her child had just died. Now, she understood. It’s heart-breaking that people have to experience this to be supportive. I wish to God that no parent would ever have to lose a child again. But know that you never, ever have to apologize for telling your story- even if you’re telling it for the hundredth time. Whether we’re sharing, feeling our emotions, or listening to our inner voice and doing what it says it’s part of the journey that heals our heart from grief. We don’t ever get over it, but we do reach a point where our griefisn’t running and ruining our lives. We’re not happy it happened, but we do become happy again — it just takes a long time. Thanks for sharing, LouLou. I always enjoy hearing from you. Best, Melody
Hi Melody ( xo ) and friends ♥, I just wanted to add to the self pity comments that some of us hear from others who’ve perhaps not experienced deep losses and or are just the kind of people who process emotions differently. When I came out of the grief writers closet,I was and continue to be touched by more people who appreciate the sharing than those who do not understand why I write about grief.I try to explain it’s not about hanging on to the past,it’s about acceptance.And that long long dark hallway in between those two very big life stages . Sometimes we can/do feel some temporary self pity. But we are not feeling sorry for ourselves constantly. We are FEELING – and rightfully so.And those feelings are what will help guide us to new ways of living with the events and losses from our past we can’t change. Keep living true to you path in life no matter what. And thank you all for having the courage to share. It really can make a difference in someone else’s healing journey too.Including mine. Sincerely,Tabitha
Hi Tabitha. It’s good to hear from you again. It’s been a while. The amazing part about emotions (and the confusing part, at least for me) is: 1) I spend so much time resisting emotions when the lesson is to simply feel, recognize, and release them; and 2) when I take the time to do that — and when others take the time to feel their emotions — we come into balance. Decisions that confounded us become clear; we know what to do next. Life begins to unfold organically again (don’t love that word “organic” but you know what I mean). We align with our true power and our HP — and the magic of this journey begins anew. People are so afraid of feelings — and while nobody relishes feeling pain, once we get used to feeling, there’s not that much difference between feeling pain and feeling excitement — all emotional energy. When I was first told that, I didn’t believe it an ddidn’t understand it. But the longer I commit to feeling my emotions, the more I know it’s true. And like they say, “Some things are true whether we believe them or not.” Thanks again for commenting and stopping back at the site. Best, Melody
If you’re still reachable at the previous email address I have for you,I’ll write soon with an update on life,etc. Sorry I’ve been out of touch for so long …Time flies ! ~ Emotions and feelings are overwhelming sometimes. I think that’s why Mother Nature graced us with brains and the capacity to keep evolving by creating,walking, learning and practicing ways to enjoy the simple things. And also have to remind ourselves that what we feel is ours to feel – to express and digest – in our own ways. Self care is key. Tabitha
Still at the same place; have had the same email address …. forever. Melody
Hey Liz, thanks for your honesty. I can tell you without a doubt that dealing with the death of a child no matter what the circumstances of their passing, is a bumpy and crooked road. I’m so glad you’re sharing and I totally understand your pain. All I can say is thank God for this site. I’ve been going through alot of anger lately regarding my own sons death and the fact that I can share, safely, here and the responses I’ve had from Ms. Beattie as well as you, has made all the difference regarding my understanding of the process. I can hear what you’re saying and we mothers who have lost our children have the most unique bond. Unless a person has gone through what we have, their understanding of our situation is limited.All I can say is the only way out is through. I’ve heard that a couple times and its so true. Thanks again for sharing and I’m glad you’re here. loulou
Haven’t been on here for awhile, but just wanted to touch base and share some thoughts and feelings around my recovery journey. I have to believe that grieving is something that will always be a part of my life. What use to paralyze me and keep me from my daily living I have implemented a series of healing tools , such as: 12 step program, higher power, workshops, and a support groupand finding a direction and purpose for me instead of everyone else. All I can say it just completely changed my life. Life still throws fast balls, curve balls , and sometimes balls from everywhere. I never gave myself permission to stop , pause and say can it wait till tomorrow? Maybe ask for help. I always thought I have to do everything on my own because I was a perfectionist.I controlled everything on the outside because I was so out of control with my life. Today it’s really the opposite , my journey is within so I can handle whatever comes to me and find peace and acceptance in the process.I think one of the painful and challenging lessons in the class, “none of my business” is with my family and friends. I still want to jump and tell them whats best for them and what happened to me and how I can lesson their pain . I have realized if they don’t invite me in I need them to learn from their life lessons. If my bottom or the length of my lesson was shortened with cushions, It was only a matter of time before I re-entered the same class to learn the lesson again. Just my experience. The more I practice working on me and my life the stronger and more beneficial I will be when or if they come to ask for help. What a concept! Not to many tears ago , I mean years a go, actually both, that was not possible or comprehensible in my life. Me and my daughter’s relationship is so much better then It use to be. She is coming to terms but I really understand what it must feel and look like to her when I began to end the role as Ms. Co Dependent. I see slowly the changes and choices she is making in her life as the result of me letting go . Some days are better then others but when I am challenged I always have somewhere to go and for that I continue moving forward in my journey. It’s so comforting to be able to have yet another outlet where I can just be me and share openly, thanks for making this possible
Hi Rhonda. Thanks for stopping by and sharing. It sounds like you’ve been working hard on yourself, but doing it the “Let Go and Let God Way.” Your story sounds good and full of wisdom. I know for me, when I stopped assuming I knew what other people needed and began asking them what they wanted (and began doing the same with myself), all my relationships changed. I didn’t always hear what I wanted to hear — but ultimately I saved myself grief and agony by not trying to impose my will on others — and I created a better life for myself by asking myself what I wanted — really wanted– instead of trying to impose some conceived “this is how I should do it” plan on myself. Lessons. The path is so filled with lessons. So often I think nothing is hap;pening and then in retrospect I look back and see what I was learning. It hurts sometims, hurts a lot. I, too, have incorporated grief into my life; it’s part of my story. But it’s also magical too — those moments when we se that something special has been taking place the entire time. Best, Meody
I’m popping in today because I am having a very hard time. It has been 4 months since our precious son Craig passed away and I am a mess. I was able to get away for the weekend with some dear friends. Being with them in a warm climate with the sun and exercise was delightful. Then yesterday I came home and felt like I lost Craig all over again. It seems like I can’t take a break from the grief because it hurts worse when the break is over. On top of that at times I felt like I shouldn’t have been away laughing when Craig is gone. I can’t share this with my husband because he is so happy I was able to get away – he thinks it really helped me so I am tryiing to hold it all in. I’m worse than I have been and it feels like I’m going crazy . Somehow this site is therapeutic for me because I can let it out, relieve it a little. No one has to sit and listen to me cry – you can just read it and move on. I was able to find a support group though…we are meeting for the first time on Sunday night – thank God for that!
Hi Liz. That’s what we’re here for — a safe place to talk about what’s going on without needing to apologize for how you feel. I cannot tell you enough how normal what you’re going through is (having a respite from the grief, than having the grief settle back in and feel worse when the respite ends). I’m not sure why that is. I wondered (in my own life) if it occurred because everything is relative — i.e., when we’re grieving, and not having any good days, we get used to feeling that way. The overwhelming pain becomes our norm. We forget about such things as laughing and having a good time. So then we have a break from it — Great! But when the break ends and the grief comes roaring back in, we now have something to compare our grief to (how good we felt on our break versus the pain we feel each day). Although our grief may feel the same as it did before the break, it feels like it’s worse because we just had a taste of feeling good — we had a break from it — and how we felt on our break compared to our “grief norm” makes us acutely aware of how much pain we’re living in — if that makes any sense. It’s also normal to feel guilty about feeling any happiness. I believe (as I’ve said over and over) that guilt is a stage of grief. It’s not legtitimate; it’s a stage, a part of the process. We (many of us), feel guilty for what happened (if only we had or hadn’t); we feel guilty when we start having good days (how dare I — if I was a good mother, I wouldn’t be laughing and having fun). All that crap we tell ourselves that is so very normal. Please remember that you’re so fresh and raw; your grief is so new. That you’re even able to function seems like a mini-miracle to me, and I applaud you for that. You’re a strong woman, whether you see that or not. As to your husband, I’ve observed that men grieve differentlhy than women. There is no right and wrong way — there’s “our” way — and that’s all we need to know. I think the biggest thing for me was that I was afraid if I felt happy, I’d forget Shane (like that could happen). As crazy as this sounds — in retrospect I think my grief was (in addition to the process we go through after a loss to heal our hearts) also it became a connection to my son. As long as I was actively grieving him (like I had any choice), I was connected to him. We had a relationship through my grief. But the reality is, grief over the loss of a child is going to be a lifetime loss. No it won’t always hurt as much as it does the first few years, but it’s been 33 years and in a heartbeat, a wave of grief can come rushing in and it can still feel like it happpened yesterday. Liz, the day will come when you’ll feel happy again — with no guilt. But it’s going to take time and experiences — more time than other people think it should. At first we have moments of the grief lessening and we feel not like our old self, but the new person we’re becoming. Then gradually those moments start to run together. At some point, we’ll start to have entire good days. We also become used to living with missing the person we love so much. We find a way to live with our loss. We don’t forget the person, but we see ourselves moving forward with our lives, and then gradually we see that we’ve been moving forward the entire time — it’s just another way of “moving forward” than we or others are used to. But this process takes a long time. So know that what you’re going through is normal (not like that’s a comfort). Just let yourself be. Let yourself feel whatever you feel, think what you think. Like I tell people, I have only two rules: don’t hurt yourself and don’t hurt anyone else. (Not letting anyone hurt you/us is part of not hurting ourselves.) The rest of the process? It’s yours to guide, to become the master of. It’s not tidy. Grief is an awkward, unmanageable process. Grief has a mind of its own. It’s going to take longer than you think it should and it’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever been through. But you will get to a place where you will feel happy again — without the guilt — and still feel connected to Craig. Learning to live in each moment and surrender to who I was and how I felt each moment really helped — it became my lesson. It’s different than living life one day at a time. We can live life for years spending all day today waiting for tomorrow to come. Or we can dive into the present moment, and just feel what we feel right now. Surrender to the pain, the missing, the confusion, the fear and then let the energy of the feeligs pass through — and go on to the next emotion. We each know what we need/want – or are capable of discovering that — whether it’s listening to the same song over and over fifty times until we wear all the music off the cd or read the obituaries every day (I did that for years). It helped me see that I wasn’t alone, and that a lifetime could be an hour a minute, a year, 12 yEARS OR 113 years — and we don’t get to control it. I saw on tv yesterday about a 101 year old man who just ran his last marathon. Tonight I went to see Lincoln, how he died so soon after changing the Constitution and abolishing slavery — like he had a purpose and when he accomplished it, he left. Also, for years I had heard about what a terrible relationship he had with his wife. Without being a spoiler, 1) I didn’t know he had children; and 2) I didn’t know he and his wife had lost a son. That put their relationship in a new light for me. She was a grieving mother (Abraham Lincoln’s wife), like you and I and many women on this grief site. Okay, I’m rambling. But I want you to know that when you come here, you’re heard, you’re listened to, and people care about you. Thanks for stopping by and please stay in touch. Let us know how you’re doing. Best, Melody Beattie
You are awesome. I Love my family and friends who really feel for me and love me through this but to have someone who really knows how I feel is very comforting. Thank you for hitting it right on the nose for me!!! I printed out your response and will keep re-reading it through this nightmare. I did find a support group (for parents who have lost a child due to overdose). We start on Sunday night. I think if I keep reaching out it will help. I am also going to get involved in something to help others avoid this horrible tragedy before it happens (I hope). Again – thank you!!!!
Thanks Liz. Soon, I will have a site up that helps familes prevent overdoses — whether a family member is a legitimate pain patient, or whether a family member is involved with illegal drug use. My hope is that all these families will have Narcan (a product that instantly reverses an overdose until the person can be taken to an emergency room and get confidential professional help); be trained in how to use it; and have other resources available — i.e., affordable, excellent long-term treatment. My goal is to create a world where addicts get second, third and even fourth chances (look at how many times people have to try to lose weight); where help is affordable and high quality; and where people who legitimately need medication for pain management can get it without being labeled addicts when they’re not — they’re taking their medication properly, following the rules, and the narcotis are giving them quality of life and ability to function because of their responsible use of their medication. It is not a “pro-drug” website; it’s a “pro-people” website, and it’s a priority. I hope you will stay tuned in, as I believe you will have much to offer on that site. I’m not looking for money from people; I will be financing the site. I’m looking for voices and opinions. Best, Melody
Melody I am very much looking forward to hel!!ping in any way I can with your Narcan project!!! I am keeping my eyes posted for news! Thank you
Dear Liz, My heart aches to think of what you are going through, what any mother goes through losing a beloved child. I haven’t lost a child but I have had what were to me devastating losses in my life. In both situations what I recall most are the two individuals who sat with me while I cried and said nothing. They somehow understood in those moments there was nothing they could do to ease the pain except be there with me. I believe there are many people here who are listening to the cries of a mothers broken heart, and carrying you in their prayers. You are in my prayers Liz.
Hi Rhonda, I just want to say Thank You for all that you shared! All truths and lessons from a classroom I need to attend daily. My sponsor spoke with me 7 years ago about “my default” reactions… and for what ever reason it turned on a light in my head that I was sure had me glowing in the dark! From that time forward I have made a conscious effort to reset the default in my brain to ” It’s none of your business”. I love how you expressed “the length of your lessons being shortened with cushions” only to find you would re-enter the same class room again. When this aha revelation came to me ( spiritual awakening ) I FINALLY got what is meant by: I can do the hard part now or I can do the hard part forever. A very dear long time friend recently told me she thought that narcissistic people were going to follow her for the rest of her life. I said hmmm… I definitely think there are more of these buggers out there today than ever before but…. in my experience I find the sooner I am aware the sooner I can determine how much if any interaction I will allow myself to have with not just this potential hazard but in what ever circumstance that feels violating to me. Getting that the lesson is my own in whatever circumstance I am in, wherever I am…. is for me the bottom line of my own self care. Another very dear person in my life just called me Sunday and said I took off the victim coat I’ve been wearing my entire life!!!! This was so huge. And what I loved most was I heard it in her voice the moment she called. It is the result of much hard work navigated through a very challenging life path and I REJOICED with her and find myself still smiling when I think about her. The miracles show up in my life as long as I don’t play hooky! Thank you so much for your share. Denise
Hey Denise, thanks for the good wishes and for sharing. I am, as you said, in the same category regarding the spring chicken comment. Also blessed with good health and a relatively strong back however re-evaluating one’s life is important no matter what age. Suffice it to say, I have alot of experience and looking at this that way seems less harsh to focusing on the amount of years I’ve been around. I’m remaining grateful for everything as it is today and truly know that my needs are being met.Meetings can be so helpful and the friendship I’ve acquired are such a gift. Sometimes things get a little political but it’s at those time I Really have to take what I want and leave the rest. I’ve learned that things will work out even if I don’t interfere. Imagine that! Peace to all on this site and thanks for being there and for letting me share. loulou
Sorry if I get too politcal, but politics are affecting: treatment quality and availability — and other necessary things that could save, habilitate and rehabilitate people. I’m extraordinarily passionate about these issues right now, and try to keep politics out of it — and a lot of love in it. Melody
Melody, As a daughter-in-law of a grieving co-dependent father-in-law, how can we support him after the death of his wife. He was a caregiver for 26 years to a wife who was in and out of hospitals, physical therapy, and nursing home care. He’s a classic co-dependent who’s life has been centered around her every demand, often without a “please” or “thank you” and enabling her (even in her healthy years), and now is left dealing with the grief of her passing. He has said his “purpose in life” is gone. I can see how he has lost himself and I’m concerned about his future. We’ve encouraged him to begin taking care of himself but he’s consumed with worry over finances and has latched himself, with little boundaries, to caregiving for his youngest son who has run himself into the ground financially. He is a kind, sweet man who gives until he gets ill, often denying his own self care. It feels like dangerous ground when he asks my husband and I for advice but then doesn’t listen, eventually getting upset and still lost in his grief. We want to support him but feel like we are in between a rock and a hard place. Any thoughts would be helpful! Thank you
You’re asking me a question there are no easy answers to; I just went through all this with my mother — and we’re facing a time in our nation when we have more elderly people than ever before, we’re keeping them alive longer, and they feel (as your father-in-law expressed), “that they have life left to live, but have run out of purpose.” I do know that: people are getting more creative with caregiving situations around our nation. I also KNOW this: people will ultimately do exactly what they want and are able to do. We have to ask ourselves how much we want to get involved, and at what level – and answer honestly. In my case, I’m glad I got involved and took care of my mother. It was a lot of extremely rewarding work (spiritually). But, that’s me — and that’s my situation. My mother also had Alzheimer’s. Sometimes the best person to come up with the answer is the person needing caregiving or help. What does this person want? What are their options (financially, physically, etc.)? Are you able to have a forthright conversation with him? I would suggest writing down your questions; making your list of options and what you’re willing to do; and asking him to do the same. Then, set up a meeting, put emotions aside (as much as possible), and have a series of good conversations about where things are, and where the involved parties want to go. Again, asking a person what support and help they would like from us (as opposed to forcing our beliefs on him or her), is the best way to go. I learned the hard way that I was subtly trying to force my mother to do what I felt was best for her. When I stopped doing that and began acting out of respect and love for her, well, it changed everything. That’s all I’ve got — today. Please stay in touch, as I’m sure this subject affects many, and I would like to know how things are progresing for you. Best, Melody
Hey Denise…..I so appreciate your kind words. And you’re so right about taking what you want and leaving the rest. For a great part of my life I saw things in either black or white, good or bad, all or nothing and thay way of thinking kept me immobilized and lonely and stagnent. When I first started attending meetings, I was judgemental and fault-finding but I guess I just started to absorb what everyone was saying and here I am years later reaping the benefits of just keeping coming back. Attending meetings was just another tool in a long list of things I did (do) to heal and grow and, as I’ve heard….”when the student is ready, the teacher appears”. Thanks for being there and for sharing your experience, strength and hope. loulou
Hey Loulou, Black or white, good or bad, all or nothing thinking always gives me the same result too! The first meeting I ever went to I sat thinking No 1- What are these people talking about? and No 2 – I find nothing funny about any of it!! Life as I had always known it was a terminally serious project… but.. today I know the project I need to work on is me! I can be my own best friend or my own worst enemy. Detaching in love from those I love…is something I get and I don’t. That’s the truth for me. Meetings, reading my daily meditations, and my friendships with truth tellers are the treasures and tools in my life. I find it really cool and impressive that you have had your own landscaping business for 20 years. I love gardening, and grow a vegetable garden almost every year, which is both total enjoyment and therapy for me. I was laid off from my job effective 1/5/13 and just wanted to share that I am looking around for something different also. I managed a shop for the American Cancer Society and picked up estates by the u-haul truck loads to re-sell. Although I am healthy and due to the genetic luck of the draw physically strong, I’m no spring chicken and the wear and tear on my knees and back are creeping up on me. So it sounds like we’re both in a season of re-evaluation. I’ve done a lot of research but so far nothing is ringing any bells for me, but more shall be revealed! I wish you all the best Loulou in your endeavors, spiritually and vocationally. And PS write that book so I can read it. Peace and Blessings, Denise
After reading Denise’s story about her experiences I want to encourage her to continue with attending Al-Anon meetings as doing so really helped me so very much. I was encouraged to “keep coming back” which I did. Initially I never considered myself to be a “group person” . I guess it’s been about four years since I first started and the benefits I’ve received are miraculous. Not only was I able to understand my powerlessness over my addict and the futility of trying to change him through control and manipulation or idle threats, I am learning the practice of “detaching with love” and to stop being Instructional, as I like to say, and basically take care of my own life as that’s a full-time job. The real recovery for those in Al-Anon happens gradually over time, like most things, but it absolutely Does happen but you have to continue to go to the meetings. The “3 C’s”, to which Denise referred…..not causing the addiction, inability to control it and the impossibility of our being able to cure it is such vital information for OUR wellbeing as that’s really all that we can change. Not only has my thinking changed, but I actually enjoy being part of a group now, and that’s miraculous in and of itself, but I have a small circle of close friends from the program for which I am SO grateful. I no longer feel alone or misunderstood. We all “get” each other in the rooms. This is really the first website on which I’ve shared to the degree that I have and I’m just so incredibly grateful that it’s here and for Melody Beattie for providing it. . I guess one of the best thins of being able to share on this site is that you’re never alone with all the devastation brought about by substance abuse or grief or loss. I So, regarding Al-Anon…keep coming back, it works when you work it!!I hope I’m not violating any of the traditions of the program by being so open. Thanks for lettting me share. loulou
I think we each need to figure out our “personal care” program — how many of which meetings, how often and which ones. While I believe in free will regarding attending gruops, I must also add that it was a neighbor’s continual prodding that I “needed to get my butt to Al-Anon” that started my codependency healing process. It just felt so damn wrong that I had to go to meetings when HE was the one throwing away the family’s money, drinking, not working, etc. Took me a long time to learn the difference between “being punished” and “going to groups” and “needing help” and “deserving healing.” Slight nuances — but important ones. It’s an interesting journey — to say the least. Best, Melody
Hi loulou, Thank you for your response and share. I can not imagine where I would be without Al-Anon. I was introduced to Al-Anon in 1982 by the woman who became my first sponsor, after she died of cancer I stopped participating, mad at God for what I selfishly perceived as yet one more person I loved being taken from me. My life amazingly enough got much worse after this brilliant decision, and I returned to the fellowship. The benefits have been nothing short of miraculous in my life as well. Last year and moving into 2013 has been a season where many challenges seem to be converging at the same time in my life. We all have them and when I hear shares in my meetings about things that are to me far worse, I think if they walked through that you can walk through whats going on in your life. I’ve struggled to know what to do and what not to do… sometimes it’s clear and obvious and others it just isn’t for me. Sometimes life presents a series of lessons that I beat myself against instead of learn… at least until I surrender. Being able to come to Melody’s site to read what others share, read her blogs and express my thoughts about what I’m going through has been a huge help for me. I am so sorry to know of the loss of your son, I feel at a loss to know what to say except this as I do not in anyway want to come across as presuming to understand how you feel because I can not. I only want to say I’m glad that like me you found this safe haven of support and friendship where we are allowed to come as we are, take what we need and leave the rest and as you said ,and I feel also, to know that what ever we’re dealing with we are not alone. Blessings, Denise
I, too, am just so grateful for this website and have been helped so much by everyone’s sharing and honesty. I, for one, can relate to so much that I read. Melody’s initiative regarding Narcan is truly a pro-active endeavor to potentially save lives from the hideous and powerfull disease of addiction. It’s referred to as “cunning, baffling and powerful” and it is that and more. It changes people and destroys lives and when someone succumbs, that’s one more casualty of this war. As you may know, I am a mother of one of those casualties and also a mom of a survivor, at least for today. When my son died, the situation was such that it was too late for Narcan. No amounts of “if onlys” can change anything, however, IF I did have the Narcan and if his younger brother had realized immediately that his life was in jeopardy, then he probably Could have saved him. There’s alot of extenuating circumstances regarding my son’s death but I have to let them be as it would contribute to the already huge amount of guilt that my existing son has in this regard. It’s been eight years since Travis died and only just last week was I able to go through one of the boxes of pictures of his and his brother. I’m grateful for the ability to do that as I feel like i’m moving forward. Although I intellecutally Know i’m moving forward…..it often doesn’t feel that way. It does get better and with the help of websites such as this one, I can attest to the fact that it does get better and healing can happen.Grateful that all is well and love to all parents and loved ones of those with this deadly affliction. Thanks for letting me share. loulou
Thanks, LouLou. I really appreciate it when people reach out to others on the site. That’s what the site is about; that’s how we get past the differences and into the similarities. As I’ve said, my hesitancy to broach this subject comes because guilt is such an active stage of grief anyway, and it couldn’t be further from my intentions to say something that helps people feel more guilt. It’s not valid; it’s not appropriate (the guilt). I’m just talking about changing things for people in the future so that maybe there won’t be as many grieving mothers on this site. But until we get the treatment thing going and available — long term, effective treatment — narcan is just attacking part of the problem. But all these things are a start, something we can do. We don’t have control. We didn’t cause it. Can’t cure it. But I sure hope that we can improve the quality and availability of drug treatment in our country for generations to come. The difference that long term versus short term treatment makes is huge in terms of success rates. But affordability is another issue too. We’re at such a perfect time for change, with Obama declaring the War on Drugs an utter failure. Now is a great time to speak up, so that’s what I’m doing. I just need to be laid back about it, because nobody likes a zealot. Best, Melody
I read your post about narcan a few days ago, didn’t know what it was so I looked it up. I”ve called ambulances for family members in the past for overdoses, it’s a horrifying wait, even if you take them to the ER yourself. I watched the tv series private practice tonight and they mentioned narcan to bring someone back from an overdose. Never heard of it now twice in a few days. Are you speaking out about this so that it can be purchased over the counter? Don’t understand the thinking of not having it available unless one hasn’t loved and lived with those who suffer. I got the call from the social worker who has been helping my mother, last night, that she had just heard on the news there, that my brother had tried to kill? our mother, ripped the phone out when she called 911 then took off, he called from a phone booth and told the dispatcher he had a knife and gun, and he was arrested. My other brother called a few minutes later from the hospital letting me know he had her there to get her arm taken care of. It was the conclusion to a drug and alcohol induced rampage I have been witnessing for months. This was the 3rd strike so he will be sentenced for life. I hate drugs and alcohol, hate all the pain and grief and suffering it brings. I took care of my brother as if he was my own child when I was a child, trying to protect him from the abuse. It is one hell of a hard ride to feel so f-ing powerless as you watch someone you love destroy them self. You know their heart, you see their potential you see every wonderful loving and good attribute and watch them slowly disappear. Telling a loved one to leave because it is destroying you to watch them self destruct is but one reason I need Al-Anon. Following through with what you tell them you have to do if they continue using because you know you are as powerless as they are over the consequences becomes all you can do to save yourself as you pray they reach their bottom or survive until they do. Then comes the guilt and what if’s as I have been feeling. Al-Anon tells me I didn’t cause it can’t cure or control it… I need to hear this. My mother and sister are both in the hospital and my brother is back to prison, this week, all drug and alcohol related. The big book says the only possible conclusions are death insanity or incarceration, and I have seen them all happen through out my life. My prayers for recovery is all I have to give and as long as they are still breathing I keep telling myself God knows where they are. I am grateful I have this truth to hold on to. Thanks for making a place for people to come to at 4 AM, when they can’t sleep, and all the good you are doing on so many fronts. I certainly support and will follow any suggestions you put out there regarding narcan. God knows you have been and continue to be a messenger. Thanks for all the hope you spread. Denise
Hi Denise. I’m not talking about “over the counter” Narcan — it’s a drug that people need education to administer. But I do believe that if we have a loved one who is legitimately on opiates (prescribed) or a child experimenting with drugs (often experimenters are the first ones to overdose because they underestimate the power of opiates), we should be prescribed Narcan. It should be in our medicine chest and we should be trained in how to use it. Yet, we hear very little about it in our society. Some first response emergency teams don’t have it onboard. It’s a curent passion of mine — education, awareness, and hopefully change. My only hesitancy is that I know how susceptible people are to guilt, and I don’t want anyone thinking, “If only I had ….” That’s not the purpose. The purpose is to change the way things happen from this time forward. It’s inexcusable (on society and the government’s part), that people aren’t dispensed this from the pharmacy, taught how to administer it (it can be given inter-nasally now; doesn’t need to be injected). And it can bring someone back instantly from an overdose. I’m sorry to hear about all the problems going on in your family. My hope is that as the future becomes the present, our government will take more and more money they used to funnel into attacking the supply side in the war on drugs and put it into the demand side by making more treatment, longer treatment, and repeated treatments available, as well as diversion as an option to prison. I belive people need to be held accountable, but I also believe in second, third and fourth chances for human beings. Best, Melody (There will be more on this as the new site goes up. In all honesty, I had completely forgotten about Narcan until a young woman reminded me about it recently when she was talking to me about harm reduction programs). Best, Melody
Hi Melody, Thanks for the explanation and info. The State of California funds a billion dollar industry to house and to continue building prisons to house far too many people with drug and alcohol related problems. If it worked great but it doesn’t and never can. It costs $48, 000.00 to house one inmate per year. $ 667.00 of these dollars go for vocational or substance education. $1928.00 is used for Psychiatric, $998.00 is Pharmaceuticals. $1475.00 for food. $8768.00 for Medical? Per year? Come on who of us spend this much per year unless we have a serious health issue? The point is take these same dollars and funnel them as you are saying into long term treatment, diversion, and education in our school systems. The meaning of rehabilitate is: to return something to it’s former state of excellence. We are as a society barking up the wrong tree. Human beings first need to be habilitated, taught and given the opportunity to experience and learn what a state of excellence is. This is the next level of recovery. The tons of “cure” in tax dollars, and the cost of how lives are altered is far beyond the 48,000.00. Women raising children whose fathers are in prison almost with out exception must have aid from one source or another. The cycle of poverty alone is staggering in terms of how it impacts society. I worked in a poverty stricken area for 5 years and the school I worked at reflected this. Although we each bought and kept food and sundries in our rooms to give to the children and they were provided free or reduced breakfast and lunch, it again was the same band aid being placed on broken bones. We were overwhelmed by the sheer number of those who needed so much more than we were able to provide. Ultimately there is need in so many arena’s that all we can do is pick the one closet to our heart and dedicate our time and energy to doing what we can. You certainly lead by example Melody. My own heart is dedicated to furthering the education and understanding of the early developmental needs of children. Providing info that can help connect the dots of cause and effect, one situation at a time. My brother was lost out here and needed long term highly structured live in treatment for many reasons. The earlier we can intervene the better is what I know. Let it begin with me, where God has placed me. Thanks Melody. Denise
Amen and Amen. We have a system so broken that it’s never been “fixed” enough to restore. We need to take out the Constitution, shake it, and begin anew — especially when it comes to rehabilitation, drug treatment, treatment versus corrections — and the level of training given to counselors. My part is so small, but if I could even help see that Narcan (along with proper training on how to administer it, internasally) is in everyone’s medicine chest who has someone in their home (or someone they love) using opiates/narcotics — and if I could make a contribution to the efficacy of counselors working on the frontlines in the field, I will feel like I have left the world a better place. Thanks for your support — this is a subject I have enormous passion about, toward, for (and I don’t know how to end this sentence without leaving a preposition dangling). So, I’ll just end it anyway. Best, Melody
Hi Melody, My son has educated himself about our Constitution, this is an area he is dedicated to, and I have learned a great deal from him. Okay he’s my son so how I can be unbiased… but I am so impressed and so grateful he has found his passion and platform by sharing the truths he learns about what’s going on and what we can DO about it… VOTE and stay in touch with the current Senate Bills to be voted on. We tend to find out when or if we are personally impacted… then say what the h-ll? I am not political, this and religion are topics I steer away from, unless it is a matter of principal for me. Enough said. While my brother was on Parole I took him to his check in’s, and spoke candidly with the Parole Officers and the mental health people assigned and OMG…. broken… is the tip of the ice burg. These people have case loads that are beyond ridiculous 100 to 150 Parolees? 99% of all the people I know have a perception about locking people up that has no bearing on the reality of what this really is and means. It doesn’t make us safer… it makes us more vulnerable.. so opposite of what we have been spoon fed to believe. Imprisoning people with drug and alcohol issues doesn’t rehabilitate them and remember this means to be returned to a former state of excellence…. my thinking begs this simple question: Who in a state of excellence would intentionally veer their life into a 8×5 cell shared with a stranger if they knew the difference? Less sq footage than the SPCA specifies for an animal by the way. The country clubs and programs that people “think” inmates have may exist in a few rare instances, but know, this is 1/10 of one percent, not the rule the exception by far. Jail and prison are not the happy comfortable hotels I hear all too often that people believe they are. I would like to see a mandated program for every citizen to visit a prison just once. If we are going hand our tax dollars over to this solution we might all do well to see it in action for our selves. Enough on my editorial about this. Going forward… as you said Melody what solutions can we come up with? I believe habilitation happens every time we treat others with the same respect we would want minus judgement and preconceived often ill conceived notions about who and what they are. Let it begin with me what ever it is. I’m glad you mentioned the thing about zealots. I need to remember it! Thanks for letting me speak my piece here. My two cents worth as my dad used to say. Take what you like and leave the rest of course. Denise
You’re preaching to the choir here, Denise. I began working in the drug rehab field at its very beginning, and when our world was excited about diversion — giving addicts the chance to rehabilitate instead of sending them to prison. Somewhere along the line, many people lost their “heart” and became motivated by the almighty dollar. The irony is, we would save more money by rehabilitating (or habilitating) addicts than by sending them to prison. The second reality is, our prisons are so overcrowded by sentencing drug offenders (many of whom possessed a drug and an amount of it legal in two states), that we don’t have room for the dangerous people. I get going on this subject too, because it’s messed up — and the problems run at the deepest level, the core, all the way to the ingrained and superficial. People don’t want to think; they want others to think for them. Now that the “system” works this way, i.e. providing jobs and income to certain areas of government, there’s a vested interest in not changing the system, even though it doesn’t and hasn’t worked. But I still believe in people. I still believe in the power of people’s voices. And I know that whenever the pendumlum swings too far one way, it must — it has no alternative but to — swing back the other way — eventually. Ignorance combined with stubbornness, apathy (until it hits home), and revolutions that become institutions ingrained in our society all play a part. My biggest concern: are we leaving the world a better place than we found it? Right now, I’d have to honestly say — with all the information we have — “No.” Something went wrong, somewhere. Late eighties, nineties — whenever. It’s hard to pinpoint. And again, I don’t want to appear a zealot, but I feel passionately about these subjects. If not me, then who? If not our voices, then whose? If not now, then when? Build the field, as they say, and they will come. That’s my hope and my dream. God-willing, I have one-third of my life left to live, and I hope to put it to good use. Thanks for your intelligent interest in this subject. Best, Melody
Hi Melody, This is my 1st time on your website and I have to say it is exactly what I need right now!! My 17yr old daughter is a beautiful, loving, funny amazing person that was introduced to heroin a year ago and our lives have been what feels like pure hell ever since. I detoxed her along with her godmother due to no health insurance, and it is amazing to me that in the state of Arizona there are no resources for kids under 18 but a ton of help for those over the age. Anyway, this was a nightmare to sit there an listen to her tell the Triage nurse that she is a heroin addict. I am glad I found this website, it is comforting to know that there are people who understand what a painful experience this is to watch a loved one in such a dark place. Thank you for doing what you do and I look forward to reading more. Thanks again, Hopeful in AZ
Thanks so much for taking the time to post. I am so sorry you’re going through this, sorry your beautiful daughter is going through this. Treatment resources out there suck right now, but I believe our society is on the cusp of changing that. We just need a louder voice, saying what we need as Obama declares the “War on Drugs” an utter failure (which it is). I’m also going to begin a harm reduction site as well, that you may find of some interest. Its purpose will be to promote awareness of how to obtain, and use, Narcan in case of an accidental overdose — which I pray to God never occurs in your family. But — in the event it should happen to you or someone you know, Narcan can instantly reverse an overdose and save lives and should be in everyone’s medicine cabinet. At any rate, that’s getting ahead of things and for now, it sounds like you’re working hard to give your daughter what she needs. I’m glad you’re here to also give yourself what you need, as well. Poke around. Find a forum that looks like it fits. And may you find some peace in this nightmare. Best, Melody
Melody, I support you 100%. Regarding the comment from your friend…..and I’m not being mean or uncaring regarding the person giving the comment but one would hope that a broader view could be adopted regarding the potentential consequence of death from this disease and dispense with any punitive comments. Hopefully this person Never has to lose a child or another family member due to addiction. Bless you today and feel well. loulou
Thanks a ton, LouLou. I’m not feeling mean toward the person either, it just completely caught me by surprise and frankly, appalled me as I couldn’t help but wonder if the feeling would be the same if the person overdosing was someone that person loved deeply. At any rate, it shows me a deep need for information and voices (besides mine) speaking up loudly enough to be heard. Again, thanks for your opinion and support. I would absolutely love it if we never, ever, on this site had another parent stricken with grief because a beloved child overdosed. Some deaths are not preventable. Certainly all deaths aren’t. But some are, and I believe this is an area where we can make a difference — one that matters and will forever change our world. When I studied the current attitudes toward Harm Reducation, and administering Narcan – even the games ambulance drivers play by withholding administration of it (some, not all of them) until they get the patient to the emergency room so the person then vomits on the person in triage, I was, again, appalled. The message goes so much deeper — that addicts are fantastic people with a horrible disease, and that the person has a problem, they’re not the problem. Anyway, thanks again. If you’d like to write a piece that I could post on the new site (anonymously of course), I would pay you my going rate for online pieces. You won’t get rich, but I pay well, compared to other sites and certainly far better than the Huffington Post. Think about it and let me know. I’m serious about getting this project off the ground as soon as possible. Best, Melody
Hello Everyone! I peek in on this website a few times a week and it has been helpful in these early months after our son Craig’s death in October 2012 of an accidental overdose. We actually found out last week that there was heroin in his system and I am blown away. Craig had been in rehab for 7 months for xanax abuse and always told us that he would never do heroin….ever. It scared him to death because he saw so many people who had a heroin addiction and he felt that they were the “real drug addicts”. So we are left to wonder if someone slipped heroin in whatever he was doing or was Craig so despondent about his relapse that he did it on purpose??? Of course I am learning that I can’t change what happened. It is done and there is nothing I can do about it. And then I read Melody’s post about a friend that made a comment regarding Narcan and enabling addicts. I was probably that person a few years back when life seemed in order and everyone was functioning” normally “. Then BAM….things started happening and got out of control. The hardest part was I couldn’t control it anymore and I couldn’t figure out why. I would be more than happy to contribute to your charity in any way because I believe that there are many people out there that could be helped and saved from potential disaster. As far as your friend is concerned, I can’t feel any animosity toward anyone that has never had this horrible thing happen to them or heard of it happening to anyone close to them. They are just plain lucky. I used to be one of the lucky ones!!!!
Thanks so much for your response and support. I’m not looking for any financial contributions — just voices, enough voices that we’re heard and can save some kids (and adults). I bear no animosity toward this person; just surprised. I”m sorry about your son, and please stay in touch. That’s such a painful loss and the powerloessness is horrifying. We truly have so little control. Melody
Hey Melody and fellow travelers! Again, I’m so blessed to be able to share on this site and so very grateful for your insights, Melody. After I posted yesterday, I went on The Language of Letting Go site and the mediation echoed by thoughts of staying the the present moment, dispite uncomfortable thoughts and remaining peaceful in the knowledge that all is well exactly as it is as it’s all going according to God’s plan. For me, it requires faith in not knowing any outcomes but understanding that things are being worked out on levels beyond any understanding that I could have. Even during these times of uncertainty, I remain grateful for my current status and gratitude promotes serenity and peace. I have your little book on Gratitude from Hazeldon. One of my wonderful friends I’ve made from Al-Anon was just saying exactly what you said about always having the Narcan inhalent available if a person who has ever used opiates resides with you. I think is an excellent idea and I thank you for the opportunity to give an opinion. I never heard of it until a few years ago when my surviving son talked about it. Sometimes members from our particular Al-Anon meeting do service work by speaking informally at the family sessions for the significant others and/or parents of in-patient loved ones at a well recognized treatment center in my area of PA. I have done this several times and even with a degree of panic an anxiety, I forge ahead as any discomfort I might feel is well worth the message I could convey regarding the importance of being involved in Al-Anon for family members. Living with an addict is impossible and we wind up as addicted to his behaviors and his addiction as the addict is to his substance (s) of choice. The last time I did this, the family group facilitator stressed the importance of always having the Narcan inhalent available if opiates are being abused as it can save lives. I sincerely believe that if a life is saved, it’s yet another opportunity for a shot of recovery . No guarantees but another chance at life is a Gift from God. I must avoid the pitfalls of saying how much I regret not having this knowledge at the time of my precious Travis’ death as I won’t turn it into yet another very unhealthy self-defeating thought. I can say, without a doubt, that I think having the Narcan on hand is the most proactive thing a family member or significant other can do. It’s intelligent and a way to step out of any denial that the death of the addict is not only a possibiity but an eventuality if the addiction continues. So I give my total support to any efforts put forth in your endeavors. Slowly and surely the subject of dealing with substance abuse is coming out of the shadows but much more education is needed. My own experience with my issues as well as those of my sons has made me a very willing and able soldier at the front lines of this war.Thank you for Everything you do and for your generous sharing of your experience, strength and hope. You are and have been a beacon of light on this amazing and always interesting and often difficult journey. Bless Shane and Travis and all others who have gone before us and take comfort they are at peace. For me, that’s the only way I can look at it. Bless you, Melody. Thanks so much for letting me share! loulou
Thanks LouLou, for your quick and affirming response. I hesitate to bring this issue up, only because I don’t want people to go to “the guilt” when it isn’t their shortcoming; it is a governmental shortcoming that I believe we can change. It is a matter of changing how people think. Someone I know well actually said this to me when I asked for a response to my plan to make this my charity of choice: “I don’t believe in Narcan. It’s enabling addicts. If they overdose, it’s their consequence.” I cannot express how this horrified me at the very deepest level — and saddened me. I would like to put charitable funds directly into supplying ambulances and famlies with Narcan and training. If the project could save ten lives a year, it would be worth every penny. However, I believe it wold save many more than that. There’s no excuse for Narcan not being in every medicine cabinet where an addict resides (full or part time) and in every emergency response team’s hands — and in the hands of every person on chronic pain medication. It should be an essential part of Emergency Kits. End of that story. But it will take time, work and education to get the message out there. I think we can do it, and by we I mean anyone who wants to join me in voice as I plan on funding this effort myself. Melody
God bless us all along with our precious loved ones who are unable to share our journey with us in the physical world. I was looking through a box of photos and found several of my son, Travis, who departed this earth a little over eight years ago due to the hideous disease of addiction. I have pictures of him all over my house but have kind of been avoiding going through the boxes that I have in the closet of his room. I guess it’s something where I just had to be ready so I opened the lid of the box and found four Polaroid pictures which were probably taken around fourteen or so years ago . I just took out the fours pictures and put the box away. Upon seeing them, sadness overwhelmed me and tears quickly followed. The tears were for what could have been if he were still here. Knowing what I know today about the benefits of staying in what’s happening at the present time and avoiding the “couldda, wouldda shouldda” trap, my tears were short-lived but the sadness is somewhat hanging on so I just thought I would post my thoughts. I read several meditation books each day and put the pics in there as bookmarks. When I look at his sweet face in the pictures, I see so much sadness …..his eyes are down ….and I seem to feel his anguish. Or is it my anguish over losing him? Whatever it is, I know today is the right time to have these feelings otherwise I wouldn’t have opened up that box. It’s all pretty miraculous when I think of it, I mean how HP works. Rather than overanalyzing, I’m just accepting it as it is and I know that I’m dealing with my grief of losing my first-born son as best I can and feeling so grateful that there’s a safe place to share. Too much free time is an issue for me right now. I have a small gardening business which I’ve had for 18 or so years with a broad customer base but I can’t really be going to my customers houses until around the end of March and then, once again, God willing, I will be back in a flurry of activity. But right now, aside from caring from my own extensive property and attending AA and Al-Anon meetings, I have too much time on my hands. I pray daily for knowledge of God’s will for me to branch out in my life and perhaps find another avenue of income, but I’m not hearing any answers so all I can do is live in faith that I’m on track and be aware of any information that comes my way in this regard. I am, however, dealing with my grief now as I was distracted from doing that for so long by having my other son live with me, but he has since moved to his own apartment about ayear ago. His life is in his Higher Power’s hands and I’m able to detach, somewhat, although I can still feel my codependence with him but have learned to detach with love for the most part. He too had many issues with addiction and I’m just so grateful that he’s still alive. I could go on and on but I will hold on to the slogan of One Day At A Time and avoid staying in the past or scary projections of the future and stay in the blessed present as that’s where the healing is and I’m so grateful to have that information even if I veer off from time to time. So, thanks for letting me share. loulou
If I could give you any gift, LouLou, it would be that you not be so hard on yourself (the same gift I’d give myself). Not all caring is codependent, and even codependency isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s when we cross the lines from normal caring to over-caring. You sound very sane and rational, especially given all you’re been through. One thing that was hard for me after Shane’s death was that I couldn’t work. Some jobs you can do, no matter how you’re feeling emotionally — but writing isn’t one of them. So many days my greatest accomplishment was doing a crossword puzzle — anything that got me into the left side of my brain and let me know I could still think, still do something. I didn’t then realize how therapeutic it was (using that side of my brain) and that it switched me from overwhelming grief into thinking. Once we start the grief process, chances are good we’re going to see it through and you sound committed to taking care of yourself emotionally. Another thing that losing a child did for me is it taught me that I have absolutely ziltch — nada — no — none whatsoever control over the events of life and death. End of that story and that illusion. So many people who knew Shane and I became extra protective of their children after Shane’s death, and I’m glad for any who learned what a true gift their children are. But so many didn’t get the real lesson — that of learning to, in peace, walk that line of absolute vulnerability while still maintaining peace. The only way I’ve been able to do it is by living in the present moment and surrendering to whatever it is I feel — and being at peace with that (the feeling). I still tend to get hard on myself when I feel anger and “guilt — the gift that keeps on giving.” A friend suggested making a scrapbook when you’re grieving a lost loved one — one with pictures and stories, memories, etc. I didn’t do it myself, as that scrapbook is etched in my mind. But I also, like you, became aware of secondary losses — like when one of Shane’s friends contacted me on FaceBook — and I saw the boy who was 12 and Shane’s best friend when he died as a 29 year-old man with children. It really shocked and startled me, and brought home how much I had lost. Even now, when my daughter’s sons ask about “Uncle Shane,” I realize they lost an uncle they’ll never get to know. These losses are real; not our imagination; not self-pity. Losing a child or a deeply loved one is huge; and that isn’t said to diminish other losses. Whatever loss we’re going through is huge. This is on another level entirely, but I’ve been thinking about starting and funding a charity (not looking for donations — just feedback — will never go to my readers for money) — but looking for people who lost someone to an overdose about their thoughts about Narcan. I’m coming to believe that all families who have an addicted child, and all people who are prescribed opiates regularly should have one or two doses of Narcan inhalant in their medicine chest because I believe it could change our world. Would be interested in hearing your thoughts. Am planning on starting an information site in the next few weeks and thought I’d run it by you – and any others who read this — for feedback. Thanks for checking in. You’re a great addition to the site. Melody
Hi Melody, Now when you put it like that, never thought about it that way, anyone watching their children burn alive in a burning house is too much to carry. My late friend sue who was in recovery buried her son after he hung himself, that was too much for her then she lost her granddaughter, the day of the funeral I couldn’t undersand how she was so strong, she had a strong faith and said, my higher power is carrying me through this. Maybe he does realise when a cross is too much for us to carry, so he helps us, I don’t know? Anyway I went to my Al-anon meeting on thursday did what I had been resisting for the past month and felt great back home again,among my friends, some of the members are in AA as well affected like you were by our husand or wife’s drnking. The meeting was on anger a good one for me, today Saturday on my way home this morning from night duty I had a slight lump in my throat went to bed and dreamed of my late father who died 20yrs ago I was only 21yrs old. He had a massive Stroke when I was 17yrs and was in a home after it, I was devestated at the time as he was also 14 yrs sober in AA and myself and my older sisters looked to him for help and advice when my late mother wasn’t able to be there for us due to her active alcoholisim. He appears in my dream as he looked like when he was 50yrs old, he was 52yrs old when I was born I was the youngest. He was an absoulte gentleman, so kind and loving, but then in my dream, I dream he is still in the nursing home and I haven’t been into see him, then I wakened and realised I was dreamming again. But later on today, the lump in my throat got worse, so I started to write what I felt and couldn’t stop the tears. I wrote about the loss of my late father I feel, the guilt still to this day that I didn’t always go into see him, myself and my sister’s took it turns about as mummy wasn’t always sober to go in. I’ve cried over this guilt before been to grieve councelling why am still crying and why does my late father still appear in my dreams as if he is still in the home? Don’t know if you can answer this, feel better once I got the tears out.
Some losses we live with all our life; it’s because we’re living without someone we love. I think that “we” think we can therapize things, make the pain disappear, when sometimes the challenge is learning to live with our hearts open, in which case we may feel that pain all our lives. There’s no easy cure for grief; again I say, “grief does us; we don’t do grief.” On the site, there is a section about dreams, etc. We each have our own take about what things mean — and we’re entitled to that. I think part of the experience is deciding what we beileve is true, and learning to see life from a different angle. I wish I could make more concrete sense, but grief doesn’t always make sense. So many emotions I thought I had resolved, so many I thought didn’t really matter — but they did. Best, Melody
Hi Melody, Sorry it’s taken me a whilde to reply, thank you for your posted reply. Sorry to hear about the loss of your mother you did a lot to try and keep her in her home as she wanted. God love you, been through so much, but I believe God/higher power never gives us a cross heavier than we can carry. Today I don’t feel as mixed up, I am now reading your ‘Make miracles in 40 days’ Which I love have made my listo of goals as you suggested. Want to read through this site and try and find stories that I find myself resisting to as you explained about resistance in this book. Your books help me so much, hope your back is easing up a wee bit.
Every year, I get better (physically). But thank you for your well wishes. As to HP not giving us more than we can handle, not sure about that one. It’s definitely a close call. Some sayings stick because, well they just do. But when I read articles about a woman watching her children and family burn to death in a fire before Christmas? I think it’s more than someone can — or should have to – handle. It’s also why we need each other, because while nobody can do our grief for us, knowing we’re not alone, and haven’t been singled out for misery, can … maybe .. help a little. Grief is a long, hard, awful road. At the end of that journey (grief — if it ever ends), we turn out transformed (hopefully for the better). Sometimes I think that choice is up to us; other times I’m not certain how much true Free Will we really have — but those are theological discussions and I’m not a preacher. Anyway, welcome to the site. I hope you’re doing okay — each moment at a time. Learning to live in — to be present for — each moment, fully, is perhaps the greatest tool I’ve learned/acquired since my son’s death. It’s different from “A Day At a Time” — because we can spend our entire life living today, waiting for tomorrow to get here. Being fully present for ourselves, for others, for our real emotions – for who we are — and what Life is, each moment, is what got me through and what gets me through. If I’m in this moment, fully, it’s hard to fear what tomorrow will or won’t bring. And it hten (worry) starts to become senseless. Sorry to get off track; just wanted to connect. I just wanted to build a web site for people who feel like Life gave them more than they could handle, or at least came close to that point. Best, Melody
Hi Melody, Although I have tried to post numerous times in the past few weeks, almost with out fail something has prevented them from going through. Operator error is the reason I realize now. I can’t help but say Thank you HP. Things I knew how to do suddenly seemed impossible while my mind was busy anticipating future catastrophes. My brother ended up staying here until the first of this month and I found myself yelling at him…. what I needed to do. As I observed how he distracted himself with our sister or mothers drama, I realized I was distracting myself with the drama he was creating about others drama. He became absolutely insanely desperate to “save” our sister from herself. The last time he tried this he got himself a 21 year sentence in prison. I reminded him of this and he said: I know… I don’t want to do the same thing… but… So here I was trying to save him from doing what he couldn’t to save some one else. The insanity of trying to save anyone from them self REALLY hit me like a bolt of lightening. I found myself screeching… you don’t have a job, a car, a place to live, except by virtue of couch surfing from place to place and your worried about someone who has all of this minus availing them self of their common sense and recovery? Yeah but… I thought the top of my head was going to blow off! And then I heard myself. I suddenly felt like I was in the eye of a storm. Quiet and calm settled inside me. I can’t help him. He can help himself. I can help myself. Nothing is preventing me from doing what I need to do. I need to mind my own business. I told my brother: I have things I need to do, I don’t have time for this. I saw his clenched hands go limp as I went about my business. He left the next day, 5 days ago. Since then I have decided I am emancipated from the family members whose life style choices do not bode with my own. They have the right to live as they choose and so do I. I have been looking at family history recently and I am blown away (again, a whole new level) at how, what we do not address gets handed down to the next generation to muck about in and sort out. Seeing my mother grasping to make sense of her life now is really a sad thing to watch. She speaks of her intentions and what she tried to do… but how she was prevented because of other peoples choices and actions. I see a panorama of my own life and realize so powerfully how I walked into most situations with little more than wishful thinking, self will and the determination to fix what ever struck me as wrong. I almost beat myself to death trying to “make” my ex-husband see the light. I refused to accept that he was doing exactly as he wanted to. The disease had a cure and he didn’t want it. Neither did my mother or other people I have loved. I find myself accepting this now, deeply and with respect for a process I am not privy to in another’s heart or mind. It feels like I have yelled so long and so loud about what I’m against I don’t know what I’m for, if this makes sense. Anyway I have really missed corresponding on the site. How great to see the new posts and shares. I’m muddling through things with unemployment and feeling so grateful and fortunate I am getting severance pay and qualify for unemployment as I am really taking time to consider what I want and does it make sense rather than just jumping into the first thing I find. Thanks for making a safe place for people to just be Melody. The reading in MLLG today was so perfect for what I was feeling. I took” the curse” off myself and what a relief! I never fail to be amazed at how the reading feels taylor made to whats going on. So grateful HP put you here. Denise
Hi — good to hear from you again. Spiritual awakenings (for me) come in all shapes and forms. Will never forget the day I had 83 people coming to my house (I was holding a “Congratulations for getting through college party” for the woman who steered me toward Al-anon — a neighbor.) My husband (now deceased, God rest his soul) had gone on a vacation to Vegas — even though we’d never had one vacation, had no money to spare, and I knew zip about codependency yet; in fact the word wasn’t in use. He had promised to be home Saturday to help me with the party — but he disappeared in Vegas, didn’t arrive home hwen he should and I had that “feeling” in my gut. I sat at the dining room table dialing his number over and over all day, thinking “if I can just get him to listen to me, he’ll come to his sense. What he’s doing is absolutely crazy.” I went to pick up the phone for the hundredth time, looked around and saw a house (it was, by then, ten o’clock at night) and thought: I have 82 – 83 people coming tomorrow. I haven’t cooked the food, cleaned the house. I’ve sat here dialing a number over and over that obviously is not going to answer. This awareness was followed by another insight: even if I do get him on the phone and get him home, that’s not going to solve any problems. I set down the phone. That’s the moment my “self-care and self-responsibility” began. Letting go — the deep kind that requires us to go through years of grief to get there — is powerful. In the midst of the party the next day, the phone rang. It was my husband. He was at the airport but didn’t have the money to get home. (He was suposedly recovering from alcoholism and a prominet chemical dependency counselor in the State). He wanted me to come and get him. Normally, I would have raced to pick him up. Calmly, I said, “You got yourself to Vegas. You got yourself back to the Minneapolis airport. I’m sure if you want to, you can get home. I’m in the middle of hosting a party, and I’m not leaving.” Then I hung up the phone. No anger. Just clearly stating what I needed to do. I found the key to freedom that day; all along it had been in my hand. This is truly an amazing journey we’re on Denise. Thanks for posting. Melody
Yep I read that daily reading too and each time I do I am so relieved that you are real with what you share! I am also grateful you have put the thought/concept out there about the reality of grief being at the roots of codependency. This resonated immediately with me. The piece about obsessing has too. When I can define what I’m dealing with so it isn’t just a vague something floating around in my head I can at least tell myself the truth, stop beating myself up and let it be okay to feel exactly what I’m feeling. When my daughter was in her teen years we had our trials… whew! did we ever. But HP brought a gifted counselor into our lives who got right to the heart of the matter. I was so freaked out about “saving” my daughter that I wasn’t listening to what she was trying to tell me. The counselor suggested that I listen and validate her “side”. It was tough the first few times I did this but the difference this made in her was nothing short of amazing. She had grief about situations I had no idea about. But the point is I experienced the incredible power the expression of grief has to move us along in the healing process. She would have continued “obsessing” ( I realize now what was happening) in unhealthy ways but as it was, due to her age I believe (less baggage) after a year of the retelling of what she needed to say and having it not only accepted but welcomed she took off like a rocket into her own life. I literally remember the exact moment I looked at her and realized she had blossomed into who she was meant to be. She became my teacher as I observed how she could respond instead of react, make choices for her own good, negotiate, set boundaries and unlike me operated from gut feelings instead of guilt feelings. Thank God. Every time I read about this episode with you I think holy crapola she must have been exhausted the next day! My ex-husband always managed to get lost when I needed his help most. I could relate to both behaviors! I imagine many others can too. This is one amazing journey every day! Glad we can share our ups and downs and everything in between here. Thank you. Denise
So many of us get stuck in either the denial, anger, or bargaining (manipulation) stags of grief — and we don’t even know we’re grieving, much less what we lost. It’s a huge key and my hope is that the treatment movement remembers that treatment began as, and continues to be an experiment. While the 12 Steps are key, there truly is more to be revealed. (Plus, the government needs to stop taking money away from treatment and putting it back in.) Best, Melody
Dear Melody, I began reading Codependent No More at the suggestion of a therapist I was seeing at the time, probably four or five years ago. I did not read it long, because I was SO very ANGRY with my husband for being an alcoholic, for myself for feeling so stupid by staying in the relationship, even at happy couples and families because they had what I craved. Five years later, I am here and finally had the courage to pack my bags and leave with my children. My husband went into treatment, and we are starting to heal. In my husband’s treatment center, I found your book, Playing it by Heart. I can’t put it down! What an inspiration you and your story have been in my life. This prompted me to purchase a bundled series that you wrote that includes “Codependent No More,” and I’m looking forward to reading it with a softer and kinder perspective of myself. While my grief is not in comparison to what you and others on the site have faced (and are still facing), I just wanted you to know that I think the work you are doing is so inspirational. I have always wanted to be a writer, but have always shied away from it because I have been afraid of finding out that no one will care what I have to say. But I can finally understand that I have been a lifelong Codependent–from being a child trying to fix my parent’s troubled marriage, becoming a teenage mother and being grateful because I could focus on my child instead of the pain I was feeling about being a lonely, unloveable, teenage girl (I can’t believe I perceived that I was not able to be loved), to obsessing about every past relationship any of my romantic partners have ever had so that I could prove that I wasn’t them and they should be happy with me, if that makes any sense. So no wonder I ended up with someone with alcoholism…I had a permenant project on my hands! It felt so good to be needed. Your work has shown me that there isn’t something wrong and defective with me…there are other codependents out there just like me. I am so grateful that my Higher Power led me to your books when I was ready to heal. God bless you.
Hi April. I would STRONGLY recommend that you re-register with this site, using an anonymous name (unless this name is anonymous) just because you may feel more freedom to express yourself; but it’s your choice. Anyway, thanks for your post. I was really angry that I had to go to groups when my husband was the one acting out — it really ticked me off. But I think that finding healing is a process that takes years — and often starts with that anger. In fact, the longer I look at codependency, the more I’m beginning to think that it’s an extended and repressed grieving process. I also think that — bless her soul — Elizabeth Kubler-Ross left out two important stages of grief: guilt and obsession. And those parts are important. The guilti isn’t real or legitimate, but it does need to be acknowledged. All the “what ifs” etc. And obsession — telling our story over and over — is an important part of how we heal. We tell our story, we talk about things that happen, until we can integrate them into the story of our life. It sounds like you’re on the upswing now — but it’s really all one long journey. If you’ve harbored a desire for writing –= I strongly suggest taking courses. That’s what I did: weekend courses, once a mnonth classes, checked books and magazines out from the library, and now there are many good classes on the internet. Writing is a craft, one that needs to be learned (if we want to write professionally, and by that I mean have our work published, and get paid for our work). I’m just glad you are where you are now, because it sounds like a more comfortable place for you and your family. I’m glad you found the site too. Let us know how you’re doing. (And — we cannot compare pain. Your biggest loss hurts you just as much as my biggest loss hurts me. It’s not a contest — it’s a healing process.) Anyway, again, welcome to the site. Poke around – maybe some forums here will appeal to you more than others. Best, Melody (And let me know if you want me to delete your posts using your name, and then start over using an anonymous name — for your protection.) I’m not completely sure how that works, but I know there’s a way you can do it — at least I’m pretty sure. (My webmaster, Chip, takes care of all that.)
Hi Im so confused!!! I posted yesterday and my post was waiting for the moderator but I cant see my post today at all. Please help. i dont know if I posted in the correct place to start with…. Thanks
Hi, I’ve been traveling and haven’t checked my inbox. If you posted correctly, I’ll find your post shortly. Melody
Hi, Im very new here and trying to work out how to use the site so I dont even know if this is the correct place to post!!!! I lost my 13 yr old son to suicide 3 yrs ago on 11th of feb. So his anniversary is coming up in a few days. Im currently in Spain trying to “find myself”. Ive been here since 6th dec. Im going home to Ireland 2nd March. Since ive been in Spain ive read co dependent no more and varies other books on co-deopendency. They are a great help and on my return I will attend Coda meetings. Ive a brother and sister who are in addiction and have grown up all my life been co-dep…… So I think I have that sorted to some degree and am more aware on what direction Ive to head in getting better. Today Im struggling on the thoughts on returning home. I live in Ireland. Ive two kids 5 and 10 and a partnerI Ive been with 9 yrs. He has been very supportive in me coming to Spain to do what I need to do. Im anxious on returning home to the chaos!!!! I know its one day at a time and I got into meditation. Its stuff i knew about but couldnt put into practice when I was at home. I got very depressed and my mind was racing constantly. I wanted to go into some sort of treatment but nothing was available hence the decision to go away for a while. Sorry if Im babbling……… Not too good on forums. I came across Melodys book The grief Club and I will get that also on my return home. Cant wait to read it. Anyway if life was simple….. Wouldnt it be wonderful with all this new found knowledge!!! I still need to get trough my Grief. The last 3 yrs Ive been running from it. Im in therapy the past 2 yrs and have a great therapist. All she advised me to do i never done but it has made sense since coming away. Co dependency meditation new interests. I dont work so Ive a lot of time on my hands. I dont talk to my son. Should I Shouldnt I ??????? Im so confused. I want to feel close to him and let him jknow I think of him. Im sure he does know but I want to be lble to include him in my daily life. Maybe if Im honest with myself I feel kinda silly talking to “no one”. I feel guilty even saying that. I want to believe HHe is with me. I want to be able to talk to the kids about him. We miss him terrible. Ive been in a blurr I suppose the last few yrs and each yr has got worse. Thats why I got got away for a while. Anyway I hope this post finds a way to someone so maybe I can get an idea how others communicate with people they have lost. xx
Hi. I found your post. Am so sorry about you losing you beloved child. It hurts so damn bad, and for so long. Please, please know that all the internal and external chaos you’re experiencing is normal. Nobody, not me, not a therapist, can navigate your path your grief. In time, you will become your own expert — your own navigator. And you’re right — at least in my case, year number two was so much worse than year one. My daughter did not wish to discuss the death of her brother, my son. (Children have their own process as sibling, we as parent.) Losing a child? It’s the worst. It’s the hardest thing you will ever go through. It takes so much longer than you think it should. And it just plain sucks. But you can go through this God-awful journey. You will never, ever stop mising your child (at least nobody I’ve talked to has). But we learn to live with the missing. We find our ways of communicating with our loved one. People forget to mention that “finding out where our child is” is a key part of grief. We each develop our own rituals of communicating with our child (or other lost loved one). I’ve come to believe that’s one of the “lessons” we go through with grief. We can therapize and group away, but the truth is, we don’t do grief. GRief does us. It’s stubborn and has a mind of its own. It won’t go away. It will not be ignored. But we can learn things to help us get through when the pain gets too much. We can reach out and know we’re not alone. And whether you believe this or not in time, you will be happy again (although you’ll still have days that hurt like hell). I wish I could sugar coat this for you or tell you there’s a magic pill, but I haven’t found one. Crossword puzzles to get in the other side of our brain (or Suduko) when the emotions become too much). A written commitment to life, no matter what life brings. Avoiding people who don’t get us. Not hurting ourselvs or anyone else and not letting anyone hurt us — little things that are huge at the end of the day. Knowing we’re not alone; we’re not singled out and we’re not being punished. It’s one thing to say, “God really loves me; we were in an accident and nobody got hurt.” It’s a completely different thing to say, “God must really love me; my son died two days after his 12th birthday.” Healing doesn’t come easy. But it’s there, healing our broken heart. And yes, hearts really do break. Explore the site. Look for forums on here that speak to you. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. Tell your story as often as you need to or just read other people’s stories. It’s your loss, your pain, your grief — and you get to charter your way through it in a way that works for you. I’m not glad you need to be here, but I’m glad you found us and I hope you can find some pieces here that help. Learning to take life one moment, one feeling, at a time helps. Many lessons will present themselves over the years. We watch movies and tv and see people work through grief in two hours. Doesn’t happen in real life. It’s the price we pay for loving deeply. Please stay in touch and let me know how you’re doing. Best, Melody Beattie
Sorry I have to edit the posts, but if I didn’t there would be so much spam up here it would be disgusting. I’ve worked hard to keep this site non-monetized. My books can all be checked out at the library, or downloaded to your computer in the less-expensive Kindle form — and it’s not just about promoting my books. There are many books, people and experienes that will come to you on this journey that you’ve been thrust into. Things and people will appear on your path. Time doesn’t heal. Experiences do. You will get through this — I promise. But it takes time, so much more time than we wish it would. Best again, Melody
Thanks Melody. It does help when you talk to people who know the pain. Joes 3rd anniversay is on Monday. When you really get to the thinking that you havent seen this person for that amount of time is just unbelievable. One day at a time I suppose is the only way to get through it. xx
Hey Melody, Thanks SO much for your most beautifully written and heartwarming post. It is so comforting not only to be able to honestly espress what’s in my heart but to be sharing on a site where we can all be of help and guidance to each other on our respective journeys. I, like so many of us, have been on this road for a while and it really did begin with the birth of my precious son, Travis on that Christmas morning so many years ago. That’s why I’m SO grateful that he shared my life for as long as he did. I’ve learned that gratitude, applied liberally, will trump sadness. Even before I started reading all things Melody Beattie, somehow I learned the value of gratitude. It was kind of a natural evolution from the glass half empty to the glass half full. Looking on the bright side rather than seeing only darkness. Knowing that there’s always a silver lining and light at the end of the tunnel and that there’s often a rainbow after the most devasting storm. I love the Promises in the Big Book. I also love being part of the extraordinary family of those who know, without a doubt, that there’s such healing available in following a trusted format of healing based of faith in a Power Greater than ourselves as well as listening to fellow travelers sharing their experience, strength and hope as that is often where the greatest information begins. My understanding of finding peace and serenity no matter what is happening in life has been gradual and I want you to know that being led to reading your books has been an integral part of my healing. Thank you for sharing your wisdom, strength and hope with the world. Thank you, also asking that our angels, Shane and Travis, continue to be blessed by our HP. I am humbled and grateful that not only do I have a place to share but to have a personal response by you is so affirming. As a little girl, when I would say my prayers with my mom before getting into bed, I always said…”God bless mommy and daddy and everybody in the whole wide world”. Amazing!Thanks for letting me share. loulou
You brought tears to my eyes — good ones. But then I guess they’re all good. (In a way.) Best, Melody
I must say, I have been visiting this site for over a month now and I am so inspired by all those who write their thoughts and feelings here. We lost our precious son Craig on October 22 (I posted this before and heard from Loulou and Melody). It is so nice to know that I am not alone and that eventually it won’t hurt as much as it does right now.I am still seeking a support group in my area. Maybe I will try to start one myself. I was having a very hard time and missing Craig so much the other day (it hits me out of nowhere!) and one of my friends sent me a little saying which basically said that you have to trust and have faith no matter how horrible things are at the moment. If you are in a constant state of sorrow and doubt you don’t allow the good and positive to work toward you and your life’s situation. I can’t imagine what the good and positive could possibly be at this time but I have to have faith and keep hoping and looking for it. It feels better to think that way too. Much better than the despair! Thank you all for sharing!!!!
Hi again. Liz. I’m glad you checked in. You are on a long journey — but I promise you this: it’s not a waste of your time or life. You will see things and learn things “in the dark” that we don’t learn anywhere else. I’d rather be able to give you your son back — but I can’t. I’d rather have my son back than have the lessons — but nobody gave me the choice. It’s hard, and then harder, but eventually we get moments, then minutes, then hours and then days of joy. I can’t say the pain ever completely goes away, but we learn to manage it better (or maybe it manages us) — but I never thought I’d ever be as enthusiastic about life as I am now. It was a long time coming — but it was the journey that got me here. Good to hear from you again. Feel whatever you need to feel, but remember, you can pull yourself out if the pain becomes too much by getting into the “rational” side of your brain — crosswords, puzzles — dumb things we wouldn’t think were that important — can help us manage it when things get to be too much. Best – and please stay in touch. You are not alone. Melody
Sending an extra measure of love and light your way. Calling in all the angels and Beings of love, light, peace and protection to surround you during this anniversary and beyond.
Thank you. It’s amazing how 32 years ago can feel like yesterday … I appreciate your loving thoughts and prayers. Melody
Just wanted to acknowledge that my precious son, Travis, died of an accidental overdose eight years ago today. I’m grateful for his life and that God blessed me with him and allowed me to be his mom. His birthday was on Christmas and he was the most wonderful gift I ever received. I’m also grateful he’s no longer in pain. I’m OK today through the Grace of God and Al-Anon. I have ten years of sobriety from alcohol which hapened after an incident having to do with Travis. He is my angel and his birth saved my life. Thanks for letting me share. loulou
Hi LouLou. Gotta say, I love having you on the site. Since your first post, you’ve made a distinct and positive contribution. I like your “posting voice.” I’m sorry — I’m sitting here struggling with all the things people want to say, don’t know how to express, feel — all of that is in my heart behind the words I’m typing to you now. I also get blown away at times by the similarities certain others and myself share. While there are differences in some areas, my son Shane’s birthday is today — his death day is two days later. Some years that period of time is hellish. This year as you say “by the Grace of God, the force of Love which I’m still naive enough to believe in as the strongest force that is and the help — seen and Unseen we all receive,” it’s not too bad. But, that can change in a heartbeat (even if it does, that can change in another few heartbeats too). Of all the things I’ve learned, “just keep breathing because no matter what comes ‘this too shall — will — pass” and “be fully present for each moment because that way we won’t miss any of the love, the incidents that will later become precious memories — our real life scrapbook” — one that nothing, not death, physical separation, anything can ever take from us. Anyway, we each collect ideas, lessons, that are meaningful to us. We each become our own gurus, experts, masters on the subject of grief because it’s impossible for anyone else to become that for us. The inevitability of change — whether we call it “impermanence” or anything else coupled with the practice of “being here now” have become my spiritual “walking sticks” — the crutches that help me keep showing up and walking this journey ‘trudging the road of Happy Destiny’ (source Big Book). LouLou, thank you for your share. Thank you for being you. And thank you for finding this site. Those in this elite grief club are simultaneously blessed (not in the traditional sense, because who in their right mind would call losing the love of their lives a “blessing?” while many of us (at least I sometimes do) feel as though we’ve been targeted for unbelievable pain as a tool which when honed will help us help ourselves and others. It’s a strange club, this one we’ve been initiated into but at the end of the … hour, day, week, month, year or deacde …. I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s. I am, you are — everyone on this site is, whether we know it or not, unbelievably blessed. The purpose of personally discovering that is each of our purposes, and isn’t something anyone else can “give us.” Until the next time, may you bask in the Peace that Surpasses as we continue on our journey through the sometimes long stretch of lifeless wilderness on our way to the Promised Land, a/k/a “The Promises”: before we are halfway through, we will come to know … (paraphrased from the source the Big Book). Best, Melody PS – Not everything the great “They” says is true but as it concerns the Promises, it absolutely is. May our HP bless Travis, Shane, us, everyone on this site — and everyone. (Even as a very young child, I never knew when to stop asking God to Bless people ….)
Hi Melody, I’m an 41 yr old aldult child from N.Ireland, your books have helped me so much, thank you. I lost my mother sadly to alchoholism 7years ago and have been In Al-anon 20 years but today feel very lost, and alone. Can no longer relate to members in Al-anon, as no alchololism in my family the pain hasn’t eased. Very mixed up as to Do I still need to go to Al-anon? I foolishly went back into a very unhealthy relatinonship with my ex-husband after not seeing him for 12 years, now miss the company, as I live on my own.Talk about co-dependancy? ha-ha I will go to any lenghs to save someone, but can’t make them cross over the bridge you talked about in The language of letting go. I am the youngest in my family and all my older sisters seem to lead normal lives? Not in Al-anon? I have lived on my own for 6yrs now just wish my mother or late father was alive to help me and point me in the right direction.
Hi. It sounds like you’re going through a lot of pain — and it’s whapping you around in a lot of directions. I cannot give advice to anyone on whether or not they need a particular group; but as a friend I can (and that’s without knowing you well — based on your post) say that it sounds like you’re carrying around a heavy load of grief — as many of us do. The longer I study “codependency” and “addiction” — and many other problems, the more I’m suspecting that unresolved grief underneath it is the causal problem. There aren’t many places to go to deal with grief in our world — people don’t have time to listen to us, and most of us don’t want to listen to ourselves. You sound aware. It sounds like you have a history of working on yourself. Usually (and this is based on personal experience), once I ask a question, it’s because the answer is knocking on my door, waiting for me to see it. Poke around the site — it’s packed with information. Read some of the forums that appeal to you (or read those you find yourself resisting most). You may find some clues there. This much I know — if you are sincerely seeking direction, you will find it. If you know a good support group or have any friends you can call on — any healthy resources — now is the time to use those resources (use in the positive sense). Please stay in touch and let us know how you’re doing. Also, I’d like to recommend that you make a list of written goals: things you want to do, have, see, experience, obtain. For instance, you cuold add “solving this problem about what to do next” as one of those goals. It’s a practice that has always helped me. I can’t and don’t offer advice as a therapist on this site — plus it’s hard to know what to say to someone based on a short post — but I hope that at least one of these ideas inspire you to find a solution, or take the beginnings steps toward that. Remember… breathe, let go (which includes feeling your feelings), and focus on doing the next thing — not fixing your whole life. Keep it small and doable, whatever you do. It can take the “overwhelm” part out — and God knows, life can be overwhelming. I’m sorry about your mom. I lost mine in 2007. We never had a particularly great relationship until the last few months of her life. I had no idea how much I’d miss her and how deep that grief would run. Please .. stay in touch and start the practice of being good to yourself. Best, Melody
Thanks for your words Melodie…and yes I’ve completed the intro course! Awareness…
I ‘stumbled’ upon this site and am very glad I did. I have been a fan of yours and have found great help in your books.and much healing. Thank you for being who you are and sharing your own journey. Oh and I have been a fan of Echo’s as well and did not know you two are childhood friends until a few years ago but when I learned of this it made.perfect sense! I am super excited to.join the Grief Club. I am ready for some healing. Thank you as always. Peace, love and rock-n-roll, Terrie Rohloff
Hi Terrie. Thank you for your kind words — and welcome to this site. I hate saying that (welcome) because it means someone has a loss, something that hurts a lot, hanging over them, and I’m not happy about that. But I hope you find at least some of what you need as you maneuver your journey through healing. There are good people on this site. I try to respond to every post but when I’m writing, I have to put some things aside (temporarily) – although I do my best to keep tabs on what’s going on here. I’m glad my work has helped; even glader you’re taking good care of yourself. Best, Melody
Wow, I was looking for some guidance on how to love myself…and wound up here. No coincidences… I recently left a very powerful and growth-filled relationship…but one that I became very dependent on, possibly to my own detriment. Is that a form of codependence?? While it wasn’t my choice to leave…I know it’s for my betterment, but how to take the first step towards self-love through the pain of loss? Melody, I fell in love on my yoga mat with a book of daily meditations you wrote some time ago (the title escapes me at the moment). Those daily ponderings offered my own ponderings and when I was most open (and lying in savasana), I received my most authentic answers. Um, I think it’s about time I pull that off the shelf again. Look at me coming up with some of my own answers! LOL Thank you for this site…. Connie
Hi Connie. You don’t need anyone, including me, telling you what to do (something I avoid anyway because how can we know what anyone else should do when we’re each struggling with what we need to do next)? It’s impossible to know the true heart or path of another. But, I believe we can help others find this by listening, something rapidly becoming a lost art I fear. Anyway, I’m not glad you need to be here, but I am glad you found the site — and the answer you were seeking. There are all kinds of stories, forums and groups on this site. I advise people not to use their full name — only so they’ll feel safe to ‘let it all hang out here.’ It’s a “come as you are” site — no judgments, no email lists, I don’t use comments or posts in my writings. This site is for my readers (or even non-readers if they can get benefit here). You know, we all take little side trips on this path. Doesn’t mean we’ve regressed. I’ve learned that everything we go through works out in our Higher Training and Practice. In Tibet they have a word, “Jnana.” We don’t have a similar word in our language but it means, kind of, “learning gained through life experiences” (as opposed to classroom or acquired through reading books). I think it’s time we all recognize and bow to the power of that kind of learning in our lives. Our experiences are not wasted time or wasted life. Not mistakes. We’re in a perfectly-planned curriculum, one designed specifically for each of us. Sounds like you just completed your introductory course. Congratulations and again, welcome. Best, Melody Beattie
Thank you so very much for responding. I really appreciate all the info. I’m not even sure if I’m going to publish; I’m just following my intuition with the writing. Would you happen to know if I still need to contact your publisher if I just use the name of the book? Warmly, Lisa
If you don’t use any quotes, you’re of course free to mention the book. But to play it safe I recommend getting releases if you write about anyone besides yourself and if you quote any authors, contact their publishers to get permission. Best, Melody
I’ve had a fantasy of being able to write something that someone would feel had enough merit to publish but as I’m writing this I think what’s holding me back is that I, myself, don’t really believe that what I have to say is that important. I love putting my thoughts on paper and have made several attempts in the last several years to do this but fear and the reality of the whole process throws me into the mindset of “who am I kidding”. I have a story of survival over many things and I’m exceedly grateful for getting to this point. I’m even gratefull for my current feelings of unrest and questioning as I ultimately know, from experience, greater understanding will follow. I’m uncomfortable and fearful which indicates a lack of faith and trust. I will continue with my program remembering one of Melody’s meditations in which she says….”Everything I need shall be provided today. Everything.” Thanks for letting me share. loulou
Hi LouLou. I think the most important thing for someone who aspires to write – and today millions of people do — is to study and learn the craft of writing, and then learn to express themselves in the written word by writing, beginning with shorter pieces. When someone who hasn’t written professionally before sits down and aspires, without study/training (and I’m not talking about college – I’m takling about going to workshops and taking online courses and reading books and being taught by people who know what they’re talking about), is attempting an overwhelming project. I wrote short articles for seven years before writing Codependent No More — hundreds if not thousands of them. Then, when I found my legs I started with bigger projects. My first book I co-authored with someone back in 1981. I made $900 and it took me two years of work, but I learned to write a book. The key with writing is our motives: are we enjoying what we’re doing? Because other than that — the sheer joy of the agony of creating — there aren’t any guarantees. I continue to take focused study courses regularly, especially now that I’m switching to a new form of writing. It was a leap from newspaper articles to books, and now it’s another huge leap to teleplays (although I co-wrote a screenplay that got optioned back in 1994). In retrospect it sucked, but again that’s why it’s important to take time to learn the disciplines of the craft of writing — whether a person intends to write one book or twenty. That way, we give ourselves the time and permission to do it poorly (writing) before we learn to do it well. After CoNoMo became sucessful, publishers wanted to bring back that first book I wrote. I said that was fine, but they couldn’t put my name on it. So they changed their minds. I had grown so much as a writer in those years that there was no comparison in my voice, my style, my craft. I encourage people who want to be writers to write, but I encourage them first off to honor, respect and study the craft. It’s definitely got disciplines that need to be learned and mastered. Best, Melody
Hello, I am doing some writing. Your 12 step codependency book literally saved my life. May I quote you? Warmly, Lisa
Hi Lisa. Congratulations on saving your own life — you are worth it. Also, congratulations on writing; it’s a career I absolutely love. However, to get permissions to quote copywrited material and although the copyrights are in my name, the books are licensed to the publishers who publish them. That means, you need to go to their permissions and rights departmet (publisher is indicated on inside pages at beginning of book) and write to them, requesting permission. Lkely they will want to see: exact material you want to quote; context; and any information about the intended publisher of this material. This is to protect you — but for any other writers our there, take the time. Get permissions and releases in writing. Protect yourself and write the right way. (A note — when I’m researching, I bring Permissions and Releases forms with me wherever I go. If I enter into a conversation that may end up in a published or produced work, I ask the person to please sign — if willing — the Permisiona dnd Release in advance. It’s much easier to do this in advance, insead of after the fact. I used to wait because I didn’t want to disappoint someone if I ended up editing out their quote, but I learned the hard way it’s better to ask first. And –BTW – in our overly-litigious world, even when we make a quoted person anonymous now (unless we’ve disguised all identifying details abou someone or this info is a matter of public record), we need a “Permissions and Release.” Most publishing houses have their own forms; ask and I’m sure they’ll happily supply you with one you can use. (That’s for individual spoken quotes.) For copyrighted material, you need to go the route I describe above by contacting the licensed publishing house that distributes the copyrighted material. Fair use is a strangely subjective thing. Using as little as ten words of copyrighted material may be fine, or it may be an invasion of copyright law depending on whether that quote sums up the heart of a particular book, or not. And this is even with proper attribution (name of author, name of publication, date published, etc.) It goes without saying that proper attribution is essential. It just doesn’t hurt to 1) know the governing rules and 2) play by them. Best, Melody
Thanks you SO much, Melody, for responding to my posts. I am currently in day 20 of my gratitude lists for The Miracle Exercises and am diligently doing them on my computer and printing out the pages. I have to post on the Miracle site that one of the miracles for which I was praying is a reality….at least for today. I’m going to revise my thinking between the phrases of grief vs. self-pity. Going over in my mind or on paper devastating events and situations is not resorting to self-pity. As you stated, I believe, with the understanding of your most wise input, that I am “releasing” this stuff rather than holding on to it. I’m going to adapt a kinder attitude toward myself and be aware of the negative connotations I so willingly take on by using the term “pity pot”. Perfectionism has been an issue. I’m so grateful for your wisdom and kindness. Thanks so much for letting me share. loulou
Happy to help — seriously. I’ve never really liked that phrase “pity pot” – especially because our society doesn’t give us much room to grieve our losses. Things such as divorce, etc. really are huge and we’re so blase about them — i.e., expected not to talk about them, “just get over it,” etc. The 12-Step Programs are very wise in almost insisting that people tell their story, over and over again — and I’m not certain they even understood the wisdom behind that. It’s important to us to tell our story and be heard, and it’s important for others to hear us tell our story. It’s one way we incorporate our losses into our lives until slowly the changes we experience become real. But what’s most important, LouLou, is that you make the decisions that are right for you, and that you know that you can trust yourself and that this trust is well-placed. AT any rate, I’m glad I’ll still be seeing you around. You’ve been on my mind. Best, Melody
BTW, I don’t get tired of your posts. LouLou, after my son’s death I told my story so many times, “Hi, I’m Meldy and my son died.” “Hi, I’m Melody and my son died.” But it was something I needed to do to heal and when I no longer needed to do it, I stopped. But just wanted to let you know that I, for one, do not feel you’ve whined, groveled, had pity parties — nor have I felt you’ve “overdone” it with the grief. Nope. Not one bit. One reason I wanted to offer this site is because short of paying a counselor to listen to us, it’s hard to get people to be present for us, to do more than wait for us to stop talking and instead — really listen. That’s why I read the posts up here, thoughtfully. It’s one thing for me to complain that nobody listens anymore, but it’s emnpty words until I begin listening – really listening — to others. So, that’s it for now. Just saying …. Melody
Melody, please know how grateful I am for your time and input. I’ve been on my journey a long time and have had many beacons on light along the way.. Louise Hay was one and Wayne Dyer as well. But it wasn’t until I got your book The Language of Letting Go for a Christmas present in 1999, that the pieces slowly started coming together. I spent thousands of hours with professional counselors, two rehabs for eating disorders, meds, more therapy, you know how that goes. Many meetings in two 12-Step programs, alot of reading and meditation and much, much writing. I love to write and actually tried to write a couple books but my story wasn’t ready. So, in that regard, I’m continuing to pray for knowledge of HP’s will for me and the power to carry that out. I’m SO blessed to be in contact with you. Have a wonderful day and thanks for letting me share. It’s a privilege! loulou
Hey, LouLou. What “they” say is true: we need to give it away to keep it (although codependents manage to circumvent and disrupt that universal rule with excessive and ill-motivated giving at times — well, a lot of the time). But seriously, by doing give-back online, you give me a chance to keep saving my life. Plus I enjoy the contact. As I’ve written before (online), I’ve been blessed with an extraordinary group of site memebers — no trolls, no “soul-suckers” — just a group of really nice people who each add to the richness and diversity of the forums by what they write. While sometimes it’s hard to keep up with the posts (if I’m actively writing, which I am now), connecting with readers online continues to be a rewarding an energizing activity that gives me as much or more than others say they receive. Anyway, thanks for your warm comments and have a great day. Best, Melody
So grateful to have this site but even I am tired of reading my own posts. I feel like I’m spinning my wheels by droning on and on about all the injustices I feel I’ve been dealt. I’m falling into an old pattern of thinking that I’ve had more to deal with than most people. It’s a feeling with which I am Not unfamiliar and it has never served me well. It’s remaining in the victim mode and I’m really not certain why I repeatedly place myself there. I’ve risen above it at Al-Anon meetings and have a much healthier perspective, but given the opportunity to write about things in a forum such as this, seems to have given me license to expound.I’m examining my motives. I pray each day for the knowledge of God’s will for me and the power to carry that out. Am I doing that or have I just packed an enormously large bag for my seemingly endless visit to the pity pot??Thanks for letting me share. loulou
How long have you been here (and dealing with losses by looking at, feeling and letting go of them)? I guess that might — depending on the extent of the losses — be a clue. Also, you may want to combine this site with the Miracle Max site, which takes it to the next level. The Miracles book can be taken out on loan, for free, from any library. But how long you’ve been doing this is a question that needs answered first. Also, it helps define whether you’re sinking in self-pity (I phrase I don’t really like when it comes to grief, as grief is extremely different than self-pity) — but these are questions you need to answer for yourself. Also, are there some bruises you don’t want to get too close to? Just questions to ask yourself as you decide whether this is healing for you or not. Some losses — such as the loss of a child — we live with all our life and they compound, like illegal interest. Other losses, lesser ones, don’t need as much time. But until we release the feelings we’ve packed in and denied around them, we can plan on not moving forward. But again — life is not one size fits all. Best, Melody — And I encourage you to make your own choices based on solid info. The tough thing about twelve step groups (and I completely advocate them) is that they don’t leave room for grief and tend to call it self-pity, until “it” hapens to them, at which time it becomes redefined and called “grief.” This site is mean to be an adjunct to, not a replacement for, 12-step groups — which is why we have a 12-step forum here. mb
Welcome. Are you okay with the way it appears now? Please let me know if you’re not and I’ll pull it down immediately. There’s a thing about not being able to change our user ID — but I don’t know what name you registered under. I also don’t know if you can “re-register” under a different name, as the email address will be the same — but if you need help, please let me or my webmaster, Chip, know. Best, Melody
Hi and first, welcome to the site; second – thank you for the uplifting story. It sounds like you’ve overcome more osbstancles than anyone should have to face. Re my book that you refer to, although I’m now doing screen and teleplay writing, I first wrote 18 books — so it’s hard for me to know which one you’re referring to. If you go to Amazon and search through the descriptions, perhaps that will trigger something — but that’s all secondry to welcoming you to the site. I deleted your other email, but read it first (deleting it not because of content, but because your name was in it. However, I’ll double check because anonymity is the key to feeling safe.) Best, Melody Beattie PS — this may not make sense to some of you because I omitted the comment it responds to — and I hope you will all remember to please, please register anonymously. It’s much eaiser to be vulnerable and tell our stories.
Thank you Melody and Liz for your comments.Finding this website as well as the others are taking my recovery to a higher level. For so long my life was enmeshed with my son’s lives and their addictions and my co-dependence, there’s that word again..evidenced by my clinging to the illusion that I could help them was rampant. I desperately wanted to fix them and manage their lives any way I could. I allowed myself to be victimized by their addictions and put up with unacceptable behavior. Anyone who is a parent of an addict could relate unless, of course, they were one of that rare breed of people who could actually detach with love and and let the addict experience the consequences of his or her addiction. It took me many years and the passing of my older son to finally accept this reality. I allowed my younger son to continually live here and use and crash three cars and steal thousands and thousands of dollars to open my eyes that I could no longer be part of the problem. He hasn’t lived here for almost a year as I finally was able to set a boundary. I’m praying he’s drug free today but I can’t ask or encourage him to attend meetings or be instructional. I’m not always successful in this but I have improved greatly. He’s in his Higher Power’s hands and I have to stay out of the way if we’re to have any kind of a relationship at all. I will always be his mom but he’s 30 now and has the capacity of finding his own answers. I have enough of my own stuff to deal with anyway. And I’m starting to think that not only have I not fully grieved the loss of my older son, Travis, but I haven’t grieved my other losses. Abandonment issues due to being adopted and not told until I was about seven, chronic and disabling panic disorder, dependence on alcohol to self-medicate as well as the distraction of 25 years of bulimia. There was a pay off in that behavior as well as being so focused on it, the real issues were swept under the rug. I hated myself for so long and felt so unworthy. I’m angry that SO many years of my life were taken up with these self-defeating behaviors. Fast forward to today…..I’ve been free of the ravages of the eating disorder for a very long time, and I’m coming up on ten years of sobriety on the eleventh of this month and I can still twist myself up with panic but I know how to get untwisted. I’m just so incredibly grateful that my younger son, Justin, is still alive and that I myself am alive and relatively healthy. I’m a survivor but sometimes I’m in tears not only for the loss of my precious Travis, but for the loss of myself.
Happy New Year, Melody! Just finished reading your Jan1, 2013, meditation. I try to read them daily and enjoy them so much. So much insite and wisdom! But for some reason I need to address the one I just read…Jan.1, 2013, regarding the paragraph about, ” having cried so hard you thought you’d never stop!” That particular paragraph hit home for me, due to a loss I suffered from a break-up in Dec., 2010! ( I wrote to you about it, but you probably don’t remember since you get so many letters?) However, I continue, after two years, from the break-up, to still not be able to let go of that relationship or person, that I was with for 13yrs.? I still have incidences of crying and asking God, “why,” did this happen and will I ever love another like I did that individual? I know, so many questions, yet not many answers to sooth my soul, it seems!? I know you suffered, deeply, when your Son died. How did you ever move on? How heartbreaking and tragic, that these incidents in life, seem to “drain the very life,” out of us! Thank you for listening, or reading this, whatever the case may be! Nameste, from a grateful reader. Jan
Jan, I cried for over eight years. Even today (and it’s January 1, 2013 and Shane died in 1991), it can be the “day he died – or feel like it” in a second. And I’m crying again. Only not as long. One important thing I’ve learned is that time doesn’t heal wounds, experiences do. And I’m not sure that some losses will ever be completely healed, and maybe they’re not meant to be. Shane’s death turned me into who I am now. Given an option, I’d take Shane back in a heartbeat and trade in all my lessons. No second thought. But I don’t have those options, so I take the lessons, when they come. My friends (some of them anyway) would say, wen Shane first died — “Oh, you’ll get through this is record time.” Well, I did. But not the way they thought. It took me longer, much longer, than they hoped it would. But one thing time can change is perspective. I no longer see those years of grieving as wasted time. I see them as a time of learning, of transformation, and of seeing things that we can only see in the dark. By obsessively telling my story about the loss to anyone who would listen (Hi, I’m Melody and my son just died), I incorporated, somewhat, the unthinkable loss into my life. Nobody likes a grieving mother. I wasn’t fun. Well, I was — I have an extremely dark sense of humor that has helped me survive. But nothing is funny about my son’s death, and nothing ever will be. However, answering your question, I am happier than I ever thought I could or would be. I am thrilled to be alive, grateful to be alive and want to live every day of my life as fully as possible and I never ever thought I’d say those words. I’m not happy Shane died. NOpe. Not one bit. But I did become “happy” again. Part of that meant redefining happiness. Now, it means peace – and that doesn’t mean running around transcendentally blissful. It means surrendering to whatever it is I feel — angry, guilty, upset, whatever — each moment. Peace, as some say, is far more profound and long-lasting than happiness. But I really am excited about life, about what’s around the corner, and when I open my eyes instead of feeling flooded with unbearable pain, I’m curious and excited to see what the day will bring. For a long time, I was angry when I woke up alive each day. No longer is that true. And, if it can happen for me, I believe it can and will happen for you. When we lose someone we love deeply — lose that person for any reason — we lose a huge part of our heart. It’s tough. It’s hard. And it takes a long time to get through and we live in an instantaneous world. We don’t do grief. WE can’t hurry it up. Grieve does us, and it takes its bittersweet time. Let me know how you’re doing, please? Melody
I hope I’m not barging into the middle of your conversation with Jan but I just have to say that I lost my beautiful, troubled son at the age of 22 on October 22, 2012. He died of an accidental overdose and my heart is broken. It is the hardest thing to do to just get out of bed in the morning. But we do, we keep pushing along. This pain is unbearable. It is encourgaging to hear you say that you are happy. It helps to hear that you find a way and time helps change your persepective. I go through so many different emotions every day – the whole gamut. I cannot believe that this has happened to our precious son. I am looking for a support group in my area so that I can sit and talk to others who have had the same thing happen to them. My friends and family have been wonderful but they don’t know what we are going through. How could they?? A friend of mine told me to look you up on Google and I have been reading your sites constantly. Thank you for putting yourself out there in hopes to help others.
You aren’t barging in. That’s what we’re here for — people who hurt, people who can’t get out of bed in the morning and wonder if that’s normal (it is), and people who don’t want to get out of bed anymore. Grief …. sucks. It’s so hard, so long, so relentless and so much more complex than five stages. But just as grief is complex and relentless, so are we. We’re much stronger, too, than we should ever have to be. You will learn that in the weeks, months and years to come. Good luck with finding a support group. I’m not sure what exists out there, which is one reason I began this site. I do know that in the forum for people who have lost a child, or people who have an addicted child, there are others who have lost a child to overdose. I don’t know what the exact circumstances, but I wish we could get to the point where every person who knows someone who uses has Narcan, and knows how to use it — because losing a child and losing one to addiction is more than anyone should have to bear. If you poke around this site, you’ll find others who have experienced loss of a child to overdose. Maybe they can steer you in a direction that will help — and if you find one, please feel free to announce it here. Please feel free to interrupt, to rant, to rave, or to just quietly read — whatever you need. I”m not glad you need to be here, but I’m glad you found us. Keep us updated as you go along, okay? Best, Melody
Liz…..bless you and I DO know what you’re going through. I’m so sorry for the loss of your precious child. I lost my older son in 2005 and the only thing I could focus on that he was no longer in any pain. I remain grateful for being able to having that ONE awareness. I always imagine my son, Travis, as being held in God’s hands now and being at peace. My son was twenty-eight when he died and was, as you stated, beautiful and troubled. My son was born on Christmas Day as a gift from God and now he’s back at the Source. In The Profit, Kahil Gibran says something of our children not being “ours” but coming through us.I am adopted and when my precious Travis was born, he was the first person with whom I had a resemblence. I stopped using alcohol because of a situation with my son and, in retrospect, I can say the birth of my son gave me what I needed to deal with his passing with dignity and grace and hope. He was MY Christmas present the day he was born in so many ways. All these realizations happened after he passed, but they did happen. I’m grateful for things the way they are and, strangley enough, I’m grateful that I’m capable of experiencing this grave loss without wanting to use alcohol or any other self-defeating behaviors. I know this is the most devasting thing a parent can experience and I’m grateful that you were able to find Melody and have a safe place to share your loss. Again Liz, I’m so sorry. loulou
LouLou, I second and third what Liz just wrote to you. Remember it takes time — so much more time than we think it should — to experience any joy in living again. Grief is a powerful source; we don’t “do” grief — it does us. Please keep in touch. Tell your story as often as you need to; use this site to gripe, complain, and ask why. Nobody here will tell you that you’re feeling sorry for yourself because you aren’t — you’re a mother with a broken heart, a mother experiencing horrendous grief. Best, Melody
Thank you for sharing loulou! I am finding out that I am not as alone as I thought I was. It is encouraging to know that this has happened to other people and they are still getting out of bed, putting one foot in front of the other and surviving day by day! I really envy others who have their children – the pictures of all the families that were sent to us this Christmas was really painful. They are so lucky! And I can’t believe this happened to us! Craig was so precious – but he could really be a bugger. We loved the Craig that was still deep inside him – it was the drugs that changed him into someone else that we didn’t know and couldn’t figure out. But, you are right, I have to believe that he is in God’s hands. I know Craig didn’t mean to do what he did….I actually think he got a bad dose of something and it killed him. He was sober for 7 months and made the decision to leave his sober living environment and move in with a friend. We argued and argued and he insisted that he was ready to move on- “I got this Mom, I’m not the same person I was a year ago”. One month later, he is gone. Absolutely unbearable…thank you for sharing with me. This website is helpful….helps to know I am not alone.
So sorry you had to (and have to) go through this, Liz. It’s the hardest thing you’ll have to do in your lifetime — and you’re right, at first it amounts to putting one foot in front of the other (on those days we can get out of bed). I didn’t know people could hurt that much emotionally and still keep living. But I did (hurt) and I also kept living. And eventually — although I won’t ever be happy Shane died — I found myself, to my surprise, feeling happy about — and caring about – life again. Thanks for taking the time to post and I hope you use the resources offered by this site — if they work for you. Sometimes just knowing I hadn’t been singled out helped a lot. Please let us know how you’re doing. Best, Melody
Melody, Thank you so much for your reply. And for the reminder regarding control and for me, clinging to the illusion that I have any regarding my surviving son’s recovery. I might have felt clear and grounded during my last posting but evidenced from my unrest presently, a degree of fear is upstaging my faith, at least for this moment. I’m not staying in the moment and am projecting which is never a good thing for my serenity. I’m currently doing the Miracle Project and am listing on a daily basis those things which constitute fear and trepidation like financial security, sons sobriety, severe weather…I know…..advancing age and on and on. I’m listing them as “I’m grateful that…..” and I think that I’m stepping out of some denial but it kind of puts them more out there making me more aware. I know it part of the exercise and I’m trusting that focusing on these things is therapeutic. Please know that there are many more things for which I’m grateful that I list as well. The main thing today, Christmas, is that my younger son, is still alive. He just got out of detox and is visiting for a day or so. He’s sober today but I can darken that thought by obsessing about his lack of interest in a program of recovery with meetings and a sponsor, etc. I have to leave that up to his Higher Power….and it’s not me. So I’m back at Step One and back to Acceptance. I can talk a good game, but I can take back my will and self destruct quickly. Thank you for a place to write about this and thanks for letting me share. loulou
LouLou — All I can think of, reading your post, is “of course you feel that way… what parent wouldn’t?” What you’re doing — working a program to let go, to find peace in spite of and not because of, is like fighting in the front lines in a war. Almost every parent’s greatest fear is the loss of his or her child — and age of the child doesn’t matter. You have demonstrated remarkable bravery — and remember courage doesn’t mean the absence of fear; it means doing it — even though we’re afraid. You talk a good game, yup, but you’re also walking the walk too. Just a note about working the miracle exercise — if those feelings are inside you, packed away, they’re not going to do ou any good. Yes, when we move out of denial, let them surface, and stop resisting them — and ultimately release them — it is uncomfortable. It’s also extremely normal and natural to want to avoid painful and uncomfortable feelings. It’s like having an abscessed tooth removed (getting these feelings out and released). It’s going to hurt more for a while, but in the end, we’ll be healthier and more balanced because of it. Methinks you need to lighten up some on yourself. You’ve done a hell of a job with your life so far — a lot more than most people could handle. It’s funny (funny in an od way), how differently we see ourselves from hwo others see us. Best — and please feel fre to come to these sites and tell your story, complain, moan — whatever it is you need to do. It’s a safe place to do that. Nobody here will judge you, tell you that you’re having a pity party — or any such thing. It’s a “come as you are site” and you’re invited. Thanks for your post, and your honesty. Melody
I just began posting comments on Melody’s site, Make Miracle in Forty Days and am currently doing the exercises comprising Project Miracle. I’m very familiar with Melody’s books and consider her to be a Guiding Light in my life. I stated in my post that I lost my precious first born son, Travis, to the disgusting diease of addiction almost eight years ago by an accidental overdose. He was 28 at the time. Seeing his lifeless body in his bed is an image that will always be with me as it was the the last time I would ever gaze upon his sweet face. I remember hugging his lifeless body and not wanting to let go but it was inevitable that I had to release him…in many ways. I never asked “why me” or things like that as I was fully aware that this could happen. I have allowed myself to take on the “victim mentality”, however, in other areas but through the Grace of GOD and Al-Anon and AA, I’m able to not engage, at least not as often, in that self-destructive mindset. The main thing for which I am exceedingly grateful is that he is not longer in pain. His brother who is three years younger has struggled with addiction his whole life and is currently in detox. I have mostly detached with love from him by not being instructional and trusting God and the Universe that he will find his way and it’s best for me to get OUT of God’s way…..Let Go and Let God. The fear of having him meet the same fate as his brother is always present, but I have to remain loving and hopeful rather than co-dependent and controlling by thinking that I have the answers for him as the the only person I can change is myself. Just wanted to share that all is well through the Grace of GOD. I remain grateful for everything just as it is……that’s my goal. Even before I started the Miracle Project, I was aware of the healing offered by gratitude for all things, reserving judgements. Even things that immediately don’t seem like one would be grateful, always turn out for something positive. Often not immediately seen but the awareness will come. Thanks for letting me share!
I am sorry about losing your son. For me, there was a tunnel I went through about the depths of my lack of ability to control — and that includes life and death. While there are things we can do, and possibly sould do, do take care of ourelves and others — we just don’t pull the strings. It’s a hard one to learn. You sound good, strong, clear. Congratulations on all the hard work you’ve done. Best, Melody Beattie
Melody, This is slightly off topic, but I wanted to comment on your story about the gerbil. I have a similar story. I had a stray cat that I made a pet of, got him neutered, fed him. I bought him a flea collar. He got the flea collar caught in his mouth trying to take it off and the mouth was bleeding. He wasn’t very well socialized at that time, and wouldn’t let me pick him up to cut off the collar. I chased him around for a day and half tried a trap, called the animal control guy, nothing worked. I went outside day and half later and Zippy was sitting outside the door, collar still in his mouth. I gently picked up him and snipped the collar off. Lesson in not trying to force solutions and letting go and letting God. Love, Nancy
Good story and good reminder. Control truly doesn’t work. The day the gerbil story came to its culmination in my life, it was like life gave me my own show, just to drill in a point. Thanks for sharing. Melody
Hello I am a codependent. I wanted to say thank you Ms. Beattie for writing your books even though I have only read one. I am 41 years old and come from a long line of dysfunction. I came from an abusive home. Mental, verbal, emotional and physical by both parents and neglect. I’ve been raped twice in my teen years both by friends, so not violent, and was molested when I was 13 by a neighbor. All I have ever wanted is to feel loved by my parents and have their acceptance and approval. A friend of mine introduced me to “Codependent No More”. When I began reading your book I had just walked out my 21 year marriage and my two kids and left state. That was June 2012. I thought my friend gave me the book to help me understand my husband a little better why he does some of the things he does. I mean after all he’s the reason why I left, in my mind. He was overly jealous, very controlling, possessive, had multiple emotional affairs from the beginning of our marriage, and was mentally, verbally, and emotionally abusive. And he was only this way with me never the children and I didn’t understand why. Towards the end of our relationship when he wasn’t there for me mentally or emotionally as bad as it is I had an emotional affair. He alienated me from my friends and family and its sad to say, but my 19 year old son and 16 year old daughter became my best friends. At first the book didn’t make any sense to me because I was reading about alcoholics and addicts and their enablers and none of that applied to either my husband or I. But I kept reading and some of the stories I read I started relating to. Then I got to Chapter 4 and began to cry by check list 2 and cried through all of them. I realized she didn’t give the book to me for my husband she gave the book to me for me. Your book gave me a whole lot of truths about myself that I didn’t realize I did or was doing and they weren’t truths I wanted to hear, but really needed to. Out of all your check lists in the book if I had to guess I would have to say I am about 98 – 99% codependent. It is now November 2012 and I have read the entire book and am still just as much a codependent now as I was then except now, my children don’t want to have anything to do with me because I left and dad has been there for them, I lost my husband, my house, I have 1 friend and her husband and 2 small children that I am living with and if it weren’t for them I don’t know where I would be, I still have no family support and when I left I walked out on 3 jobs and now I don’t have a job, but am looking. Have been for the last 5 months. And for some reason the word commitment scares me now. I can’t even commit to a holiday gathering. I was feeling great and on the right path after reading the book. My husband and I tried to get back together because we do love each other but I’m afraid things will go back to the way they were and he’s afraid I’m going to leave. The last time we got back together was a month ago and we both agreed not to say anything to anyone about the two of us being back together. But he told though. He told everyone and it gave me multiple panic attacks and I bolted. Ever since then I have been in a deep depression, sad and cry all the time. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I know I am the only one who can change it, but how? I have been depressed, sad and a codependent my entire life. I am so angry at my husband because I just want to know answers to my questions: why couldn’t he love me the way I loved him? Or respect me the same s I did him? Why couldn’t he and the children change or appreciate me a little more? Why did it take me leaving to make everyone come together and help out and act like a family instead of just doing it when I asked? Why? He won’t talk about it because he says he’s not stuck in the past like I am. But I don’t know how to detach and move forward without it hurting so much. My husband keeps telling me I was so much better when I read the book and to try reading it again to get back on the right path. I could really use help please. I have never asked for help before because I’m used to doing things for myself and on my own, but I don’t know how to control the anger, resentment, denial, hurt and everything else that goes along with it. Is everything I am going through normal or am I just a goner with no point of return? Could you or someone please point me in the right direction
Hi Gypsy. Welcome to the site. I’m not glad that you’re in pain, but I’m glad you found the site. You have found a safe place to “come as you are.” And yes, every single thing you’re going through is absolutely and one hundred percent normal. You are right on track even though those words may bring little comfort right now because it hurts to be where you are. The reason, Gypsy, I was able to write that book is because it defined my experience too. And I don’t know one of us that recovered overnight, in six months, or one, two or three years. We’re talking about undoing a lifetime of behaving in certain ways to survive and about learning new ways of being in the world. It takes time. Plus you’re grieving. If you read your note, you’ll see so much pain and loss — grief you probably never had the time or support to feel. And that’s one of the important things we need to do — feel our way through all the pain. We can learn to shut it of when it gets to be too much — sometimes doing something as simple as taking a shower can help us shift gears. Somehow, we each find our way through this messy process. I’m glad you asked for help. It’s hard for me, too — and I’ve been recovering for many years. I can also toally relate to your panic about commitment. I think it’s a good thing thought — it means that your realize how serious commitment really is, and it’s probably also a trauma/PTSD reaction to making an earlier commitment and then being totally trapped by it (that’s what happened to me — and all I can do is guess). You asked a lot of whys. I have to, as have most people on this site. I don’t think we’re really asking “why” — I think we’re saying “ouch, that hurts so damn much” every time we say “why?” Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I’m sory it took so long to rsepond to you. I had a minor surgery that was supposed to be no big deal — and then it turned into a huge deal. I’m just getting back to being myself. There are groups in this website for codependents — they work hard at the Steps (another option for changing how we feel and what we do so it’s more constructive an doesn’t hurt us so much). Just give yourself time. Take each day as it comes, and that day face what you need to face. You’re brave. You’ve taken some huge steps. Anyone who can do that can go the rest of the way to changing and building a healthy and happy life — which I know you will do. It just doesn’t happen overnight — it happens one small moment and step at a time. Best, Melody Beattie
Hi Gypsy, I want you to know you are not alone in what you are feeling. I do not hear someone who is a goner but someone who has enough courage to ask why as we all do when we and our life is in a state of flux and we have opened a door for healing and change to enter. I experienced similar losses in my life and understand the feelings you are speaking about. The early years of recovery were more confusing for me than any other time I had ever known. I knew what had been but didn’t comprehend how it had set me up for more of the same in many ways. I have been away from this site for a while so I hope you are still checking in here and around Melody’s other sites. When I hear or see people reaching out as you are I feel nothing but hope for them. We only ask when we are ready to find and avail our self of solutions. I was given Codependent No More almost 25 years ago and it pointed the way toward finally being able to understand many of the reasons why I felt and did the things I did. Understanding helped me to realize I am not bad or wrong, but acting as any normal feeling human being would in the same situation. I also felt I had to figure things out for myself and didn’t believe it was okay to ask for help, but asking for help is the most important step to realizing we can’t do life alone because we weren’t meant to. Gypsy have you tried any 12 step meetings, such as Al-Anon? I hope you will try. You will hear others share their stories and be able to relate as you said you were able to in Melody’s book. There are many meetings everyday and it helps to try as many as possible. Each tends to focus in different areas, some are women only, others for Adult Children, others work on the Steps or Traditions, but if you try different meetings you will find those that you relate to perhaps more than others. There are caring people who will welcome you and you will hear them share what has helped them. I hope you can feel safe here and know most of all you are not alone in what you are feeling or going through. Blessings and Hope to you Gypsy. Denise
Denise, thank you for reaching out so beautifully to Gypsy in my absence from the site. I hope all is well in your life — you sond like you’re growing by leaps and bounds. Gypsy — right now, as you read thes words — you are okay. Breathe. And know that sometimes when we ask “why,” we’re really saying, “Ouch, that really f’king hurts.” Best, Melody
Hey gypsy…..just want to say that, for me, Al-Anon has helped so very much with everything. I certainly encourage you to give the meetings a try. The program offers a new way of looking at our lives and provides suggestions for recovery from co-dependency and unhealthy dependence on others, whether they’re addicts or not. It’s helping me to keep the focus on Myself and the things that I Can change…..One Day At A Time. Peace to you, loulou
Hi Melody, The value I’m reading about this week is – Power in Action. Coincidentally I also read the pgs from Nov 5 forward (where I had left off) in More of Language of Letting go and these were EXACTLY the words and thoughts I needed to stop the fretting building up inside of me. When my supervisor called to tell me the job share I have had for the past 5 years would end at the end of the year, my first reaction was shock. I hung up the phone, I was at work and told the volunteers I manage, the news I had just received. As providence would have it the crew on this shift were my absolute favorite people. An 80 plus year old German woman who escaped Nazi Germany, a 77 year old Japanese woman who lived through WW2 also, another woman in her 70′s who has an eye disease that although she must put her face literally 4 or 5 inches from whatever detail she wants or needs to see hasn’t allowed this to stop her, a Jewish woman the youngster of the group a mere 50 who brings us her matzah ball soup, moves quietly and effortlessly with a smile on her face from one thing to the next and it’s done. The point is what a gift for me that these dear courageous women, my teachers all of them were there. Oh no each said, what are you going to do? Because I was WITH them is what I think now, the best of what I know and the best of what I have tried to learn and practice came forward. I said God has always taken care of me and He will continue to, that’s all I know right now. Truth is it felt like someone else saying it. I thought did I say that? In the past my reaction to such things was OH MY GOD! obsessing, forcing solutions and all the things human beings do when fear and anger are calling the shots. As I checked in with myself I realized it was one of those magic moments when God speaks through us. When all that we have walked THROUGH has shown us the greater truths in life that we don’t realize how much have become a part of us, until that moment. When I read the Nov 5th page in MLLG it also helped me to remember how I felt when I found the place I live in now, 7 years ago, to live alone for the first time in my life. I was 100% terrified. How am I going to do this? My sponsor said, You have taken care of siblings and parents and children and a husband and others but you can’t take care of yourself? Exactly. This is what my HP knew I needed to learn. And I still am. A new layer and challenge has shown up exactly when it was supposed to. I’m flip flopping around like a fish out of water. One day thinking all is well, the next telling the internal OMG’s trying to take over that they can’t, over working to show my place of employment they need me, to laying in my bed eating watching tv and not answering the phone, to calling my “spatula” friends, those who can peel me off the ceiling to, Thank God also being able to ( sorry if I have written too much ) write on this site. Anyway I’m SO thankful for all the avenues and options to hear what is going on in my head, so the scared little kid can get out of the drivers seat and let the adult drive the bus. For once I think my son and daughter are wondering why mom hasn’t flown off into orbit yet? The bigger part of all this is my prayer I can walk with my HP through all that has shown up this year with the Grace of a woman, instead of the grief of a child. Progress not perfection. Denise
Hi Denise. Sorry it took me so long to respond, and sorry about your job. I answerd your post in great detail on the blog site — so I’m not going to repeat it here. (I had a minor surgery escalate into a major ordeal.) You are strong. You are choosing the high road. If you waver occasionally, so what? You have every right to be you and be who you are. You’re a gift to the sites and the people around you. I hope you go to the blog and read my longer answer and response to you. Thank you for your share. Best, Melody Beattie
Thank you so much for your Experience Strength and Hope! I am coming up on five years in AA, started Alanon and going to therapy after some back to back losses over the past year. I ended up suffering from major depression and post trauma. However, I did not drink or use. I kept on sharing getting into solution after solution.. when I realized on top it all I was being stalked and harassed, I started going to an abused womens group because that person was someone I used date. I am a grateful codependent! and I’m on a self imposed-therapist approved rescuing restriction and dating restriction. The hardest lessons I have learn going through the losses and the pain, was to let the pain run it’s course, don’t believe what people say but what they do, God did not create me to get used. I have learned that although I wanted to quite and give up to drink, use, die, etc. I made a promise to my grandma to lead a good christian life. To follow through with Consequences and stay true to myself, put up boundaries, is rough for me and lonely at times. I am proud that I did cause it has shown me that I can protect myself, trust myself and take care of myself today. I had to learn the hardway that people don’t always respect my NO. I was feeling restless, discontent and in self pity, when I came across your online speaker story. Wow! It wasn’t anything that I haven’t heard before until you started talking about the grief deaths and what you walked through.. How your solution was to be grateful even for the bad feelings and to look for gratitude even though I hate my situation right now. I was inspired to try it today and it started helping.. Thank you for the grateful solutions and thank you for your websites!!! God Bless Samantha
Thank you Samantha, for taking time to post and sharing your story. Best, Melody Beattie
Hi Melody, I think I understand now what you have said a few times about a post “hiding” within the site. I read a blog you wrote ( I think this is what it was) about therapeutic responses? When I went back to find and reread it I couldn’t find it. I posted something yesterday and it showed up then went away? Anyway thought I’d mention it, and hoping it’s not just me. Thanks, Denise
No, it’s not just you. I get posts that hide, here and there — or I’ll respond to someone’s post and it looks like it went through but it doesn’t. (Gremlins?) I don’t know. We’ll just keep on keeping on, but for those of you who don’t see your posts or my answers to them, please know they didn’t get censored. The “Gremlins” took them and hid them in the back room. Sooner or later, I’ll find them though. Best, Melody BEattie
I had read in different sites that ” things were hiding” from you but hadn’t experienced it til I asked you about it in this post. But I know now what you were referring to, so if the gremlins hide em’ again I’ll know to be patient and it’ll show up when it shows up. Thanks Melody, Denise
Welcome. mb
I feel confused. When I feel and am confused I notice that every relative of this feeling has a family reunion in my head. The “relatives” and it’s step children come along for the ride too, shame, blame, resentment, guilt, anger, paralyzing fear, obsession, withdrawal, rejection, abandonment and the patriarch and matriarch trail carrying the banner with the words: It will always be this way. I have been in this state for a few weeks, and according to me it is at least 2 weeks and 6 days too long. Last night though I did have an epiphany. The good mother came forward in my thinking and said you are grieving losses, you are going through transitions, and like the tropical storm Sandy a convergence of major life altering events are coming together at the same time. Would you tell your beloved child with legs broken to “stop acting like a baby and get up and walk?” No I sure wouldn’t. So how about extending a little mercy, a little grace, a little kindness to yourself. Compassion is not an excuse to give up, it can though serve as reminder that there are reasons to soldier on. Even soldiers get weary, wish to be home and for the battles to be over. I read some older blogs this morning and one of the first ones about the embezzlement you have dealt with hit home with me. The home being the one my ex-husband and I built, that he many years later burned to the ground. The story on this is so twisted, sad and created by so many generations of carefully masked dysfunction that Sherlock, CSI, NCIS and Criminal Minds were any of them real, would need a crystal ball to unravel. When you spoke of the person who embezzled from you, being right there with you and not knowing what was going on, it helped me to realize, if we keep our friends close and our enemies closer as the quote goes, it assumes that we know which role each has in our life. How could I know my ex-husbands family who had known me from the time I was 17 years old, had literally co-signed his embezzlement of 25 years of my life’s work? Worse how could I have known the man I loved and shared a bed, children, home life business and history with could possibly have looked me in the eyes acting as if I was truly his wife, knowing the plans he was making behind my back to literally put me out on the street when ” the time was right”. The only person who genuinely cared about me was his grandmother. Never would I have guessed I would say this about her during all the years she drove me crazy. She though presented me with the opportunity to “protect” my self as she was in the position to do so. This involved land and inheritance, messy and complicated, it was hers, and it is a long story, too long to go into. She was brutally honest mixed up with unresolved issues from her past that pushed on my unresolved issues and like oil and water or gas on a fire I’m not sure which created turmoil for us both. But the point is, this very difficult person was at least REAL. Real with her anger, real with her affection, real with her thoughts, real with her likes, dislikes and opinions as offensively as she would often express them. The one person though, who showed up like Little Miss Muffet talking Christianity like a theological pro ended up being the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Never in 10 life times could I have guessed this. What she did and I experienced in relationship with her, changed everything I believed about life, people and who I can and can not trust. I learned that those who constantly tell you how much you CAN trust them and how they will always be there for you are the very people I can not trust. Those who had always stood quietly by were there like sentinel angels when my life fell apart. Their actions, followed by their words of consolation and comfort aligned like a compass pointing true North. Those who were trustworthy, never TALKED about trust is what I realized after the fact. I wouldn’t trade what I have learned even though for many years, I didn’t want to be alive. I really appreciate how you express the grieving process as a sacred time. I know I have been changed in ways I would have never signed up for if I knew what the journey ahead would require. For a time I felt like an infant with out skin. Raw, vulnerable, terrified and clueless. My first sponsor, mentor mother figure and dearest friend used to tell me; It is human nature to take the easier softer road if we can.And unless guided by only what could be described as a desperate act of courage, courage given by God in my weakness and fear, I think I would have remained physically alive but spiritually there would have been only a shadow of life. It is this I would not trade. The home was for me was a metaphor of my hopes dreams wishes and hearts desire I think to love and be loved. The path to learning what this is has been very different than the tidy picture of happily ever after my mind created. I am struggling to rest in the right now and let what is and what is given be enough. I don’t see tidy, I see a mess, I don’t have clarity because I want to KNOW what to DO. IT helped to read these past blogs while you were in shock, anger and disbelief. Feeling all the feelings that human beings feel when something happens in our life that blows up the bridge we thought we walking over. I am thankful for the real thoughts and feelings out there that help me accept and be okay with my own. With Gratitude for this site, Denise
It’s so easy to blame ourselves (and for others to blame us) for not seeing what was right before our eyes — but the thing is, the other person was doing everything posible to hide the truth — and doing a good job. The first employee who blantantly stole from me many years ago is the one who also gave me a Bible. All I can say about what you said is, “Amen.” Best, Melody Beattie
Thanks for the Amen. And the truth. The truth that there are those who are expert at hiding the truth, and believe that they will always get away with it. Except God as I understand him will not allow lies to succeed. I have learned the hard way when someone talks like a Theological Pro my antennae go on high alert. All this tells me is they can read and may have good retention. But… does their walk match their talk? Do they use God talk so that I will let down my guard and trust them on the basis that God is trustworthy? God is trustworthy. Throwing his name around doesn’t make me or anyone else so. As 52 Weeks of Conscious Contact speaks of, it is the values we live by that speaks to who we are AND what we believe, in that order. As a quote I put up when I was raising my children says: Your actions are speaking so loud I can’t hear what you are saying. I heard in an Al-Anon meeting the crux of the problem is; We believe what the person lying to them self first and foremost says, they though believe what we do. Always in hind sight I have been able to “look back” and see the warning signs. It may not have been blatant, but what I have come to realize is there was at one time or another “something” somewhere that didn’t feel right. From this 20/20 hindsight I am learning to retrain myself to Listen to the intuitive tug that is trying to tell me to pay attention. It may be something big, it maybe something small but either way I am learning to view this as the still small voice of God. And for me this means I would be wise to stop and ASK God, what is this about? Prayer and Meditation. Humbly asking then listening for the answer. As you said, being present with our self and others in the moment we are actually in. Amen to Conscious Contact! Thank you for being here. Denise
I absolutely agree with everything you say — but still, if we are victimized by a skilled con artist or liar, it IS NOT OUR FAULT. The way we remove ourselves as victims is by taking positive steps the minute — the second — the truth becomes revealed to us. It’s not always possible to stop every incident of being lied, conned or manipulated (although we can get better at it). Some people are pretty darn good at what they do but I beileve that we see the truth when the time is right. It’s so important though, not to blame ourselves for other’s bad behavior (which is often the first place we go). You’re right about learning and trusting the signs though — those “gut” hits that tell us something isn’t right. Often it’s hard to confront someone without proof, and sometimes proof is difficult to get (but again, not imposible because we’ll get the validation we need when the time is right). I’m also learning, or have learned, that there are distinct “warning” signs I get in communication that go with particular ways I’m being treated inappropriately. By that I mean, if I have a conversation and it leaves me feeling confounded and cruddy, that’s a good sign that I was just manipulated. (Or that someone tried their best to manipulate me.) If I have a conversation with someone and there wasn’t an argument, but I feel like I got slapped with anger anyway — it’s a good sign that I’m dealing with someone who’s passive-aggressive and they are in fact very angry but not dealing with it straight up. And — the good old standby — guilt. If I have a conversation with someone and it leaves me riddled with guilt, rarely is it an instance of, “I’ve done something wrong.” It’s usually someone else who has a lot of guilt, isn’t dealing with it, and is projectingn it all over me. (Just some clues that can help us.) I’ve been studying screenwriting for almost seven years now, and one thing the mentors talk about is how people rarely say exactly what they mean (in real life) and how important it is not to have dialogue that’s always “right on the nose.” We have to learn to trust our instincts. That doesn’t mean we can’t strive for clarity — we can — but it’s not how people usually commuicate. But the real kicker and “tell” is when someone starts waving a Bible around (like you said), or starts asking, “Don’t you trust me?” The second someone asks us that, we should scream “No” and run (with our wallet in hand). Best, Melody
I totally get what your’e saying about a liar and con artist. Some are incredibly good at what they do. My son told me Mom this person is ALWAYS at least 10 steps ahead of you, which roughly works out to being about 6 months ahead of you in terms of agenda. I finally learned this is what a narcissist does. I was so completely confounded by the behaviors that accompany this. I would think what did I ask? What just happened? I felt like the top of my head had been opened up and my brains had been scrambled in a blender. I felt cruddy, guilty and ANGRY. I would feel “violated” ( this a cue for me also) but exactly as you said I had no proof which is what I believed I had to have, document, then present so I could then say SEE aha I knew it, now what do you have to say? A dear friend put the book, Why is it Always about You? in my hands and it is in my top 10 best reads. It FINALLY put language on why I felt as I did in the presence of these behaviors. It was a major turning point in my healing, major, major, major. It was THE missing piece of a puzzle I don’t think I would have ever put in place. I have been able to understand I have a vulnerability to narcissist, so the best I can do is pay close attention to WHAT I am doing in the presence of one. When I start DEFENDING myself, feel inferior, shamed, find myself saying yes sure no problem let me do that, feel I have to prove myself so I over do, and the absolute worst…. apologize for their mistakes! I used to blame myself but I really don’t go there any more. This in part is what the info in this book helped me with. That crazy internal dialog that told me; If someone doesn’t like you it’s your fault. I really don’t care if people like me anymore, I care if I like me and if I feel my relationship with God feels right within myself. The rest will follow as it should. These days I look forward to playing with my 2 year old grandson above all else. He doesn’t know to do anything but tell the truth and it is so refreshing. It seems that screenwriting would be both incredibly challenging and inspiring in terms of group think, the push and pull of ideas and being able to create the story you want. I look forward to seeing what you come out with. I’m headed to the Discovery Museum with my grandson, daughter in law and infant grandaughter tomorrow so I need to rest up for all the fun! Best to you Melody and thank you for your thoughtful responses. Denise
Ah! Narcissism (sp?). I forgot to include that problem — and it’s an important one. I’ve seen many people cover it up by using the term “taking care of myself” when what they were doing is proving no matter what cost, they’re right. Like you said, even if they contact us to “make amends” — I end up feeling like I’ve just been manipulated again and told I was bad and wrong. They are a strange breed — but once we get a handle on what we’re dealing with, it’s so much easier. Thank you for bringing that up. Best, Melody
Dear Melody Beattie. Thank you for your publications which have helped me so much. I am dyslexic and struggle with reading books so I try to get books on audio CD as I absorb and learn much better that way. Do you have, or will you be putting ‘The Grief Club’ on audio CD in the future. I’ve already looked on Amazon but couldn’t find anything there. Maybe I could be your first customer ! Many thanks Nicky
Hi Nicky. Although I hold the copyright to my books, by licensing them to the publisher I give them the right to decide which subsidiary rights they’ll produce. I honestly don’t know which books come in which form — but I do know that many of my works with Hazelden are available as digital works, apps, and possibly (?) MP3′s – which would mean they were in a format like a song — something that could be listened to. I’ll have to check to see if The Grief Club is available in that form — but also, check at http://www.Hazelden.org — their bookstore — and see what’s available there. If it’s not available in CD or MP3 format, I’ll bring it up to the Powers that Be there. Thanks for writing about it. Best, Melody Beattie
Hi Melody, I am feeling angry disgusted and sad today. My youngest brother has been on a crazy violent alcohol and drug induced rampage. What this means for me is averting the drama and crisis-es he is creating a long the way. I am telling myself I will not miss work, ignore my own responsibilities or needs due to any of his poor choices. Nor will I fork over one cent to bail him out of the “consequences” of his choices and actions. Were it not for reading Codependent No More and the program of Al-Anon I would be running in circles, missing work and making phone calls to marshal the “rescue squad”. I would feel guilty and responsible, I would be blaming those that didn’t understand his limitations (poor pitiful victim) in essence, I would put my own life on hold and make his problems my priority. My brother is acting in accordance with the diseases of alcoholism and drug addiction. As long as he DOESN’T choose recovery he will continue on his path of destruction. I Didn’t Cause it, Can’t Cure or Control it. It is so sad to hear my mother make one excuse after another FOR him. I keep reminding her; It is his life and his choice and he gets to make it. He also gets to have the consequences, not his family, friends and whoever else happens to be in the line of fire. He has been offered vehicles free of charge, had jobs handed to him on a silver platter, been given places to live, had family, friends and sponsors bend over backwards to “help” him. What I know today is he wants to be rescued. And this is as far as the east is from the west in terms of what recovery looks like and is. Today I think; I love you too much to participate in your self destruction. And while I do feel angry with the choices he is making I keep reminding telling myself this is who he is while in the disease. I have told him I do not want this behavior in my life so as long as this is the behavior you are choosing it means I can not have you in my life. He is VERY ANGRY with me. Called me every horrible name imaginable. He has decided I am his enemy. This is where boundaries used to be so difficult for me. Today I remind myself this disease is cunning baffling and powerful, I am in no way equipped to battle this. But God is. And as a friend of mine says whenever she feels she is trying to control the uncontrollable; That’s right I am not Mrs. God! Thanks for having this place to vent Melody. Denise
Hi Denise. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to your post — I had a group of them all hidden in the back room of my site. Your thinking sounds healthy and clear on your role in your brother’s life. It’s a hard place to get to (where you are) — and it runs contrary to our instinctive responses. Until someone learns about codependency — how it hurts people and doesn’t help them or us — we’re convinced that our enabling behaviors are the “right things” to do. Reading your post brought me back in time to who I used to be, and what I used to do – in the name of “love.” But the truth is, I was reacting from fear. A counselor (and I don’t know her name, otherwise I’d attribute the quote to her) once said: Once we get out of the way, then — and only then — can the disease of alcoholism teach the person who has it all the lessons that he or she needs to learn. That says it all. We need to get out of the way so that HP can do all the things we can’t. Best — and again I apologize for your post getting lost. Somehow it wound up in emails to the Gift Shop — and in the back room of the site. Best, Melody Beattie
My great lesson on “getting out of the way” came when my brother, the one who has had 20 years of sobriety, moved 150 miles away and it was physically impossible for me to jump in my car and rescue him. After 20 years of drinking the only jumping I did and could do in this situation was when the phone rang and I just knew it was the call telling me he was dead. Instead God showed me He had a plan and a purpose for my brothers life that was between Him and my brother. With me out of the middle, my brother hit the bottom that sent him into action. He was out on the streets with no where to go, at least no where he was welcome. He walked to a phone booth looked up AA called the hot line, got a sponsor, got sober, dedicated his life to AA, got his contractors license, started his own plumbing business and all without my “help”. Imagine that! But what i realized SO Powerfully from this experience was I was not his Savior. My help hindered what needed to happen. My enabling, disabled his ability to use and grow the muscles he needed to do his own foot work to help himself. This was my first lesson on just how codependent I was and how much this behavior did hurt me and others. It was right in this time frame I read Codependent No More and I imagine more than just my dear brother breathed a sigh of relief! So glad I can see the humor in all this today. So glad I can laugh at myself when I realize I am trying to control a disease and how insane this is. And what a relief when I can tell myself too, Your name is not Mrs God! Can’t help but think God must have a good chuckle with us every now and then when we “get it” and are able to give those parts of life the light touch that really need it. Hope some lightness, laughter and ease rest upon you in these days ahead Melody. Gratitude Always
Denise
I’m right there with you. Alcohol gained control of my life twice; the first time when I was drinking, and the second when I tried to control someone else’s relationship with the bottle. (It’s far more devious and subtle when alcohol controls us but we’re not the ones drinking). When the lights came on for me, it was truly an “aha” moment — and I chuckled (through my exhaustion). I couldn’t believe it, at first. Thank you so much for sharing this powerful story. Best, Melody
PS to Denise: As I’m sure you know, his anger is guilt turned outward — it’s also a last-ditch attempt to continue to manipulate you. There’s a rule of thumb for “how we feel after interacting with someone” that can guide us to what’s really going on underneath the surface of the spoken words. If we end an interaction with someone and it leaves us feeling cruddy and guilty, chances are pretty good that someone just made a run at manipulating us. If we end a conversation and we didn’t have any arguments but we feel angry, chances are pretty good that we just had a conversation with a passive-aggressive person who dumped their passive anger on us. (Just some things to keep in mind for the future. I keep telling myself I’ll blog on these communication cues some time — an dI will.” Best, Melody Beattie
Hi, I’m not sure if I am to reply or what to fill out or write about. I was given this website by a friend b/c I’m currently going through a grief recovery class at a church I attend
Hi and welcome to the site. You don’t have to post about anything — but you can, if you like. It lets the other people know you’re here and gives them a chance to introduce themselves to you. You are welcome to share as much — or as little — as you’re comfortable telling us about you and why you’re here. Most of all, we all want you to feel safe and welcomed at this site. So pop your head up now and then, let us know you’re here, and tell us anything about yourself that you’d like to share. Best, Melody Beattie
Melody, I am walking through a valley I have walked through many times before. I could become self destructive, but this is a choice, pity is a killer. As hard core as I have had people tell me this sounds, I know it is the truth. I do not have the power to change what those who are destroying themselves are doing anymore than I do about those who are taking care of themselves. My brother who has been clean and sober, devoted to AA and service work for what would have been 21 this Nov started drinking a few weeks ago. I am numb… like denial I have found this to be a shock absorber for the heart and soul too. He started using vicodin a year ago, continued down this path of addiction and has now hit the wall. As I said in an earlier blog my other 2 siblings are in their diseases, one having spent 25 years in prisons the other hoarding and using the meth pipe and now with mom going out and the 3 of them disintegrating I feel like I’m 15 all over again with the Police and Coroner at my door at 3:00 AM in the morning telling me my father is dead and my mother is in critical condition, hearing the screams of my siblings behind me. I read a book a few years ago called: All Over But the Shouting” by Pulitzer Prize winning author Rick Bragg, to anyone who hasn’t read this magnificent bio I suggest it is a must read. This is what comes to me now as I write. The shouting, screaming drama and repercussions of the past continue to echo in my today The genes from Indian blood ( no tolerance to alcohol) from moms side, and what I heard in a drug and alcohol class described as an epsilon drinker which came from my fathers side is what my parents (both 2nd born, who typically act out the pain in a family) brought to the genetics of the 4 children born to them. In the luck of the draw, because that’s all it is, I got neither. Survivors guilt and responsibility is what has plagued me in way or another through out my life though. My brothers are black out drinkers and although I do know alcoholism and drug addiction are diseases with all of the insane behavior that will accompanying it , the things they do while active in their disease is off the charts. I used to feel lost in a civil war and inner world of offense and defense hearing for years: You are from that family….? The things that people say to those who are walking a tight wire a 1000 feet in the air. IF only they knew how the air gets sucked in, the breathing stops and like a trapped and frightened animal the paralysis that occurs so you do not to fall also. But just as I can not understand what normal is and feels like in their world so too they have no idea what this means in mine. Daily the losses are adding up. The arrest, the truck impounded, the business going down the drain, relationships strained, the walls are broken down and the thieves of serenity, well being, peace of mind, are staking out the emotional landscape for a place to pitch their tents. My mother just called and her breathing is more labored than usual, the sons who tried to rescue her need rescuing themselves and from 150 miles away my codependent urges can not be acted upon. What I can do is go to a meeting, write on this site, make sure I eat, take my vitamins, call a friend, make my bed, walk to my mail box, water my plants, pet my cat, read 52 weeks of Conscious Contact, ODAT, Hope for Today, More of Language of Letting Go, already have, but whatever it takes, and pray. This is what I think a good, loving, wise and truth telling mother would say. Act as if, do what you would be doing if AB or C wasn’t happening. And the tools and the steps will meet me where I am as God walks alongside us all. When I write it out I can see the truth, believe it, feel it and act upon it. Thank you for creating this option to hear and be heard. Denise
Hi Denise. I’m sorry I didn’t respond earlier — my posts from this site have been “hiding from me.” It sounds like you’ve been through so much — over and over and over again. I do not know how you feel, but I know how I feel when that happens — and sometimes I try to imagine what I would feel like if …. if I had been fully loved as a child, as an adult, if my son hadn’t died — but I can’t imagine that, except it feels a lot lighter. One foot in front of each other. Some days that’s all we can do. Show up. Breathe. Allow life to happen and choose not to hurt ourselves while it does. Blessings, love, and peace to you, my friend. Please stay in touch. Best, Melody
Hi Denise. I know I responded to this email before — not sure where my response is, though. Anyway, I’m not sure but I think it’s you who wrote other emails, posted above. Please let me know how things are going now — how you’re doing. Best, Melody Beattie
Jill Just found this site. I have read and re-read The Grief Club book as well as other Melody Beattie books. I have had many losses and am looking for support currently around dealing with my husbands Cirohosis and recent plane crash which left him disabled and in unrelenting pain 24/7. I have been involved in 12-step recovery for quite while including CODA, Alanon, AA and some others. I am finding the Grief to be so big and so draining. I hope to figure out how this site works and to get involved.
Grief is big, draining and overwhelming. It is also (in retrospect) a sacred process that heals our heart. Find your way around. There are good, kind and compassionate people here who will help when you need it. I’m sorry about your pain and your losses. Grief is a SOB though – it has its way with us; we don’t deal with it as we do with other issues — it deals with us. Please stay in touch. Best, Melody
Hi! Melody, I have read your books co-dependent no more & the grief club. I am 52 and a widow for 2 years. I have 2 sons early 20′s. Both my parent’s were alcoholics, my mom left when I was 6 and I didn’t see her again until I was 34. I am not an addict, I married at 18 to an alcoholic and was married for 32 years. Very rough up & down years. My husband died of a widow makers heart attack and 6 weeks after he died my father died 3 months later my mom. I lost my husband, father and mother within 5 months. Plus 3 months before husband died I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, no I am not overweight never have been and I have always exercised. Family history of diabetes. I have been seeing a therapist for over a year. I have picked up grief books and tossed them aside not getting the answers I want. Your book the grief club has been the first book I have read that has helped and makes sense. Now I am told I need to start making a life, I had to file bankruptcy and I work 2 jobs to keep from losing everything. I just get up everyday and put 1 foot in front of the other. I have realized I really do not have any friends. and people do not get it including my family (siblings). I am so tired of the stupid things people say.. I am trying to start over but I do not now how to even begin. I pray to god all of the time but do not feel him. You are right about radical faith. I am still getting up each day due to my sons need me. No one understands… My therapist is really pushing me to make changes I am not ready for. I hate change and new beginning’s. You are right about the stupid comments people make. I even had one lady compare my husband to a dog she told me how it took her 4 years to get a new dog after hers died and I would probably remarry. I was crying and laughing at the same time. I have kind of withdrew and put my wall up for the stupid people. I really don’t know how to move forward I am just going through the motions hoping to find myself or fake it till I make it… Everyone tells me how strong I am. I feel like even though life has been rough I still have to keep going. I just don’t know where.. I am tired of everyone trying to tell me how I need to live my life of start dating again and how I will remarry all it does is make me mad and get my back up. My son’s are my guard dogs and believe my right now in my life I do not need another man. I am still trying to figure out who I am.
You have been through an enormous amount of loss — and got hit all at once. Nobody can tell you what to do but you. Well, they can try, but you’re right — most don’t know what it’s like to try to walk through life wearing concrete boots. And blindfolded at the same time. My belief for myself? Life took me where I needed to go, when I needed to go there, and I got there by being blindfolded and living life one hour at a time. I hurt like hell, or I was numb. I can still remember a song coming on the radio while I was drving, and crying so hard I had to pull the car to the side of the road for safety reasons. And it went on, and on, and on. I did learn eventually to hold my tongue when people said the things (stupid) that they say. The bottom line is that unless people have studied grief, they’re not trying to make the grieving person feel more comfortable; they’re trying to make themselves feel more at ease. It scares them to think that they’re as vulnerable as us — as well it should. I believe they mean well, but they don’t know what to say or do. I needed to cocoon for a long time. It was too hard to be around people. Because of the suddenness of Shane’s death, I also had PTSD and got panic attacks or clautraphobic when I was in crowds. It made speaking hard, and I stopped doing as much of that. Then I read somewhere that getting claustrophobic after a sudden loss is normal. It’s those little things that helped. You know, a couple days ago I was driving the car — I had a four-hour round-trip drive. I was listening to songs from the fifties — those innocent and fun rock and roll songs. I was singing, clapping my hands, and moving to the music. I realized that I hadn’t done that — listend to music and truly enjoyed it — for over five years. So there is light at the end of the tunnel, it’s just a really, really long tunnel. But please know that all the experiences you go through, the things that we call “grief” — aren’t wasted time. These are important experiences that are shaping you, making you, the person you will become. IT’s a sacred time, when we pay the deep price for having fully used our hearts to love another and say goodbye. Goodbye before it’s time (at least acording to us.) What is a “widow maker heart attack?” I’ve not heard tha term before. Please stay in touch and let us know how you’re getting on — I’m glad you found us, but I’m not glad that you have the pain that causes you to need to be here. Best, Meody Beattie
Hi Melody, Im a brazillian jornalist student, and my final project is about codependency. And you are the right person to talk about with. I would like to know what is codependency? How these people behave? Do you have any statistics of how many people have this trouble? I know that I can find some of this answers on your book, but I need your declaration. It turns my projetc more recent . I appreciate your attention. Looking forward to hear from you! Isis
Hi Isis. Your question is impossible to anwswer for many reasons: one is that two people can do the same behaviors and one is behaving codependently, and the other in a healthy manner. It’s an inside job (codependency) and is not as much about what we do as it is about how and why we do it. Also, people who are alcoholics don’t “sign up and be counted” so it’s hard to know how many lives addicts and alcoholics affect, plus we have codependents who have never lived with addiction. Maybe they lived with a person addicted to being angry all the time, or someone with a physical illnes, one so severe it turned the dynamics of the entire family around. I’m now beginning to think that Elizabeth Kubler Ross, bless her soul, left out two parts of grief: guilt and obsession. If you add those to the other stages of grief, what do you have? Right. Codependency. I believe now that codependency is being stuck in a stage of grief, often for a loss we didn’t even know we had. And again, there are no sign-up sheets for that. Best of luck in your project. There is a lot of info available on it now. There are also two treatment centers incorporating the above belief system into their treatment model and I’m excited to hear how it’s working. People say that God never gives people more than they can handle, but when a young person — 3, 4, 6 or 9 — is abused, harshly abused — that’s more than he or she can handle as an adult, much less as a child. Codepndent behaviors are survival behaviors, things we do to make it through until we learn about other options. Melody Beattie
My 22 year old son died of a drug overdose. It has been almost 4 months since it happened.
I am so sorry to hear about your lose. Four months ago? You are still raw; like your heart was cut out with a blunt knife. There’s not much I can say except what someone told me: This is the hardest thing you will ever go through. It will take a long time (about eight years and much longer than you and others want). But you will get through it, even those days you think you won’t and even those times when you don’t want to — which is an entirely separate issue because once we get “through it” — which we never completely do — then it means we’ve accepted it, which is something we don’t want to do either. A complex mess of horrendous pain. I’m so sorry about your son. What’s his name? Melody
Melody, I just read something you wrote about the old family rules of being told your’e are a baby for feeling our feelings. I felt infuriated just reading these words!!! Meaning it is a trigger obviously… As my mother is dying, I have found another layer… I’m thinking when the last one is peeled away there will be nothing left of me. Good. The old me anyway. I am witnessing my siblings and myself digressing back to all the “old rules and behaviors”. Each in our own ways trying to save mom. From what? I have been asking myself, her death? her life? herself? It is so crazy making. I took a 3 month leave of absence to “help” mom and realize now I was doing what I have always done as the oldest. Taking charge, being the parent, the voice of reason, getting things under control… yeah there’s that word control. That should have been my first clue that I had just jumped back into the ocean of my disease. And it has been a long swim back to the shores of sanity. When the Doctors and all the helping agency people who began coming in and out because I had enlisted their help began to speak in terms of your “poor mom”… they didn’t say this…. it is what my old tapes heard, I thought NO WAY I am not going through this again I am not! I am not! I am not! And the good news is this time I don’t have to. She isn’t the only one who gets to have express and feel her feelings, which as far as I could tell was telling us what ours were or should be or why we shouldn’t have them and what we could do to fix them. Nothing new, the same family rules. You correct mom I didn’t really see think or feel that. Please God can we get it right. Can I get it right, that’s right, I’m not in charge of anyone but myself. What is my lesson is what I have been asking my HP? My parents both drank and got crazy violent, the physical abuse didn’t stop with them beating each other up either. I spent my childhood either being trained how to cook and clean or writing 500 hundred sentences because I asked why can’t I go out and play, or on “restriction” for a week in my bedroom or being beaten when it was decided my questions had crossed over the line. Children are to be seen and not heard after all. Asking questions and having feelings that were unacceptable was met with severe punishment. Worse or certainly just as bad was seeing the same happen to my brothers and sister. I learned to contain my feelings, which is to say, find ways not to show I was having them. One of the ways I did this was to have a make believe “Good Mother” I called her, that I went into my closet and talked to. Of course I played both parts in this conversation. She would ask why did you say or do that ? I would tell her, then she would say something that a mother who wasn’t beaten and abused herself would be able to tell her own child. I have worked with abused children and had to remind myself what I did to survive when there was no one else to turn to for help. Meaning more specifically when I knew how bad it was for them and had to make the decision between filing a mandated CPS report in which case they might get worse because of it or trying to give them the tools to help them self. So here my siblings and I are in our 50′s reverting back to 5 year old kids, using the same survival mechanisms. Except I can take care of myself now, I do not have to hide in the closet. I am not in charge, I never was, my brothers and sister can take care of themselves too. I can love them, love my mother and love myself. The helping authorities can not and will not do anything apart from what is allowed individually and collectively. If I disagree with their perspective I can tell them why. We all have choices to make as to how we are going conduct ourselves. I had a sponsor who used to tell me: That is your default talking, you are safe now and you don’t need to use those coping mechanisms anymore. You can if you want tom but you don’t have to. You know how you can hear something a million times and then one day you HEAR IT. For what ever the reason the word Default and how she used with me, turned on a light that helped to create a new coping mechanism. Which has been to tell myself, This is my default talking, I can hear what it is saying, thank it for how it protected me, then decide what I need to do now to help myself. Awareness- Acceptance- Action. The triggers that can take me back in 1 second are still there but it is my decision as to how I choose to respond today. Just hearing the word Feelings can be tricky for me… What are they? How important are they? Just having them without doing major research because I feel like I am in a court of law having to defend their “rightness or wrongness” has been one of the gifts of recovery. Being able to be present, living with my heart open, being able to listen to and honor my heart without feeling ashamed it’s there, is too. As children we were made to feel we should be ashamed for being alive. Someone must of told my mom the same is what I believe. It is as sad for her as it was for us, but it doesn’t have to stay this way. The God of my understanding tells me, He will redeem the years the locusts have eaten. This is what recovery means to me. I don’t get to have the It’s wonderful life epiphany like George in the movie got. I don’t get to have one more minute with my father who died in the car accident that almost took both of my parents when I was 15, or my home that my ex-husband I built with our own two hands that burned down and all the family pictures and memories that went with it or any of those people places and things that were so important, deeply valued and such a meaningful part of my life that it feels like life ripped away. Learning to live with the “feelings” losses bring up is my daily challenge. I am grateful for the opportunity life seems to present to me over and over again so I can learn to accept life on life’s terms. Some days I think the lesson sucks and I hate the lesson, but today I have the freedom to say this and I do. The side benefit of being able to do this I have found is that it gives others permission to be human too. This is what I think you have given to so many of us Melody as I read the posts on this site. When I read about your life I said I can believe her BECAUSE she’s been there and walked through it. What incredible courage, tenacity and determination you have had all your life. True leaders have servant hearts and after 18 books, I have to know those words must have been akin to slaying dragons, as I have heard this is what it can be like to write a book. Anyway I find I have a safe place to think out loud here, know I am not alone in what I “feel” and that I can assign the meaning to what I feel that my heart tells me is necessary. Thank you for being here and in all the words you have written that give me hope. Denise PS I love what you said about woo hoo… jump again, just love that!
Thank you for sharing your story; it’s deep and filled with pain and horrors. Never have understood why some seem to glide through life, and others regularly get ptiched off cliffs. But whatever — we get what we get, and we deal the best that we can because like it or not, we keep waking up alive. And you’re absolutely right — now is not then. Now you get to choose and decide. BTW, I really like your survival device. I think it would make an excellent book and “therapy device” for children living in abusie families who have no support. It’s an easy way they could learn to support themselves and I encourage you to write it — and if you read all my posts, it’s not often I say those words to anyone. What you did was so very, very smart. How did you even think of it? It also sounds like an exercise many of us could do now. Before my mom died, I got o hear (instead of the daily “I should have aborted you when I had the chance” that my mother really loved me. I got one hug from her this lifetime, one that felt like she really meant it. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than getting none.) Thanks again for taking the time and having the courage to share your story. I’ve been blessed with such a great group on this site — excellent people who step up to the plate and tell it like it is, but do it from the heart. A thank you to all of you for being there for yourselves, for me, and for each other. Melody Beattie
Hi Melody, I am truly amazed that you read and respond to each person that writes to you. When I think back to getting my hands on Codependent No More all those years ago, and the impact it had in my life, never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined being able to receive a personal correspondence from you. Ever. Life can sure surprise us and in my experience, when we least expect it. Writing or journaling, like my imaginary Good Mother helped me to reason things out. The crazy rules like “Don’t do as I do, Do as I say” or “Children are to be seen and not heard” made absolutely no sense to me. Why? I asked myself just about everyday, is what children think, feel and want to say, less important than a grown up? Aren’t we all human? Why is more expected from the children than the adults? Why do we get cayenne pepper put on our tongue for 15 minutes, a very painful torture, for saying a bad word or “talking back” while the adults can swear and say crazy horrible things to one another? Basically nothing in my world made any sense, other than I better pay attention if I hoped to get through the day with out punishment. When at 32 I hit the wall and the inevitable meltdown began, I was extremely fortunate to have been referred to a counselor who hung in there with me for 5 long years. I would show up and not show up, I would be angry at her, then cling to her for dear life, I would get it, then forget it, I would be a 6 year old one visit and a grown up the next. There came a point all I did was draw or paint because I had no words. I literally did know what the words were for what happened or what I felt. Shapes and colors and pictures just came and she didn’t tell me what they were, they were the only means of expression I had and that was alright with her. Because it was finally safe, the emotion of being hit by car on my bicycle when I was 5 years old surfaced one day. I always knew this happened but was never allowed to speak of it nor was it spoken of. The emotion that accompanies PTSD is as real as the feeling at the time of the actual event as you know and my counselor received a phone call that day that came from the 5 year year old who rode her bike off the curb without looking and got hit by a car. The woman who was driving the car that hit me was of course hysterical. I was struck by the front of her car with such impact that my shoes went flying off my feet. I landed in a freshly plowed field of dirt which if it didn’t save my life surely prevented more serious injury. I had wet my pants and was more embarrassed and concerned about this and the trouble I was in than anything else. I wasn’t taken to a Dr nor allowed to ride or have a bike until I was 10. I clearly remember the day I knew I was on my own so to speak which occurred shortly thereafter. I got up in the morning, got myself ready for school (kindergarten) walked to the corner, caught the bus and told all the other children on the bus I had no father. My mother was 21, pregnant with baby no. 4. I knew she was overwhelmed and I had to take charge of myself. My dad who I dearly loved, would get his paycheck on Friday and periodically go MIA and this Monday was one of those times, so I determined then what was what and what needed to happen. So a long answer to the short question of where the good mother came from. I have taken your suggestion to heart Melody. You couldn’t know but God does of course, that children are to me like my breath and heart beat, sacred bundles of need and vulnerability, fragile and resilient, born perfectly human, taught how to to be inhumane. My entire life has been wrapped up in wanting to learn and understand about the development of children and how to provide the best ways and means to launch well loved well rounded people into this world. I do not know how one goes about writing a book but I will ask and do the research to figure it out. If you have any suggestions about what to avoid, this would probably be helpful. It seems to me you have more than enough on your plate to say grace over though. The job I have now is high stress. I manage a shop for an organization I won’t name, that has determined the job share I have isn’t in the best interest of the profit margin, so a few weeks back I and my co-manager were informed we are being let go at years end. I have been stretched and tested for 5 years to what I believed at times was my breaking point in this job, but it has helped me to grow and find out what I could do. The night before I got this news about my jobs end I literally wrote in my journal to my HP that I felt restless and wondered what else was out there for me to do. I had the nudge and sense that it was time to move on to something else, and felt a sense of adventure and openness to whatever God had for me and was asking… what could this be? Your suggestion has given me a sense of direction that it seems all I have done up to this point in my life has led me to. Thank you for the guidance and prompting to write a book on the topic you mentioned. Finding your site when I was looking for something else and all that has led up to this moment resonates as the answer to – What next? I feel very Blessed to be the recipient of your personal responses, it has truly meant more than my words can express. Thank you is the best I can do. Denise
Hi Denise. Whenever I read your posts, I instantly think (without even seeing your name): this person is a writer, should be writing professionally. As to “how,” I remembered my dream of being a writer one day while painting a room when I was pregnat with Shane. I looked up at the ceiling and said, “God, if you want that for me, you’re going to have to show me because I don’t have a clue.” The next day I was writing for a community paper — five bucks a story. My first published article was — next to bearing my children — and of course my sobriety, the high point of my life. I didn’t have much money, so I went to the library and read every book I could get my hands on about writing. Start small. Not big. Find a passion for what you write. Honor and study the craft. Do not pay people to publish your writing; they pay you. That must be a rule FIRM. Write your goals and give them to God. Ask Him to show you the ones you don’t know. There is a path. My writer’s prayer has been, “God, show me what you want me to write, when you want me to write it.” But learn the disciplines of the craft — so important. There is a future and a path for you, and I believe you will enjoy it. Best, Melody (And thanks for writing back again.)
Melody, This is probably going to sound totally hokey and superficial but here goes, I was watching the x factor last night, I love music and cried every time one of the contestants found out they went through to the next stage. I cried tears of joy with them, if that makes sense. Tonight I feel like one of them as your words so kind, empowering and inspirational have me crying my own tears of joy. The thing is this month has for many years been the one I wish I could erase or go to sleep and wake up to find it is November. Could I by pass Oct and have 2 Novembers please God? The nightmare car accident that took my father and left my mother in the hospital for 2 months, to finally come home in a body cast with a trach and no voice when I was 15 with siblings 14 12 and 10, created the anniversary experience, as I know you and anyone who has experienced a traumatic loss understands. The anniversary of my separation leading to divorce to the husband I was married to for 25 years happened on Oct 18 as well. No matter the issues, I loved my childrens father with all my heart and soul and it took me 10 years to feel “normal” after this. God Bless my dearest son and daughter because they heard ” the story” so many times they probably wanted to eject me into another universe and I wouldn’t blame them for this, if they were to ever admit it. Last October 2011, I wrote down every good thing I could think of that ever happened to me in October. I decided I needed to redefine the meaning of this month. And now on the anniversary of one of the saddest days of my life, I feel my HP has given me a gift through you, in that your kind heart and words are helping to “redeem the years the locust have eaten”. I have always had a passion to be an advocate for the child whose voice is not heard. And worse when it is heard isn’t believed as my own and my siblings wasn’t. In a similar fashion as you expressed about how you were told by those in the helping professions ‘”how you needed to get over it” so too was I told many many times that what was happening I was in effect either exaggerating or misunderstanding… I remember how you also said the day came when you received a heart felt apology and acknowledgement for what the loss of your son really is. A gaping hole in your heart that you in fact had the courage to live through and continue to live with. A heartache so deep and wide, language as we know it can not bring adequate expression to what such a loss is. Although I called Child protective services, although there were aunts and uncles and neighbors and adults at school, doctors and juvenile probation officers, counselors and clergy, no one heard. No one. Adults had all the “rights” back then. Children had zero. Except to buck up, respect their elders, and protect the perpetrators. So with this said my passion and purpose remains the same. To be a voice for those whose voice is unheard or silenced, whose signs and signals are denied misunderstood or misinterpreted, whose needs are shamed and for whom the meaning of “normal” is something some can not bear hearing about, let alone imagine living. I deeply appreciate and will take your advice to heart. You have given me direction and I will study this craft and write my goals and give them God as He must be the one to show me what should be written, His will not mine is my prayer. Thank you Melody for being willing to be the messenger, for showing up for life and speaking from your heart. Your message has given me hope and your words have brought meaning and given understanding to experiences others, through no fault of their own, couldn’t comprehend. You are what I have read is called an “enlightened witness” . My brother is back in his meetings. The message his relapse and return are bringing to the fellowship as he has shared with me is we are not cured, we can keep and have the gift of sobriety every 24 hours that we work the steps and allow the steps to work in us. Thank you for your guidance. Denise
Thank you for such a sweet and loving letter, Denise. You had me setting here crying — mostly because I feel so grateful when I can turn a tragedy into a gift of healing for others. It makes it worthwhile. I still maintain that we can endure tremendous loss if we think it’s for a reason – a higher purpose — than we can if we think we’re going through a bunch of pain for no reason at all. I agree with your vision though — it sounds like October absolutely sucks. A lot of painful loss, permanent loss, tied up with that month. I still feel that way about holidays. I break them down into a period of 24 hours that I go through, and then I celebrate that holiday on another day of the year. It’s easier and better for me that way. We all find our “ways” of getting through, ways that work for us. There is no such thing as an expert when it comes to grief; we each become our own experts at learning what Life has to show us. Your mission in lifei sounds worthwhile — to be a voice for those who go unheard. Being able to share our story — to tell it and be heard — is crucial to healing. There’s a positive side to obsessing — to obsessively telling the story over and over. It’s how we integrate the unthinkable into the story of our life. Without someone to hear us, though, the words fall on deaf or worse yet rejecting ears. That doesn’t help. It takes a big heart and a lot of love to be present for, and listen to, someone’s story of loss without getting all nervous and trying to fix him or her. Eckhart Tolle defines love as being present for and aware of another person in the moment. I like that definition a lot. So if that’s true, then self love would mean being present for, and aware of, ourselves. I also like that definition of self-love as it avoids narcissm and takes us right to the heart. Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to comment, for your kind and loving words, and for being who you are. Best, Melody Beattie
I’m sure I read your above email before– but don’t see my response to it. (It was one in the back room of the Grief Club site.) Anyway, thank you for your kind words and please le us know how you’re doing. Best, Melody Beattie
I just read the entire public section of this site and took notes on the parts that really resonated with me. It’s a phenomenonal resource! What struck me most was the idea that losses pile up – each new loss seems to possess the intensity of previous ones and magnify the pain even more. Wish there was a way around that. “Codependent No More” cured my terminal uniqueness 17 yrs ago. My CoDA group uses your “Language of Letting Go” books. I’ve read almost every book you’ve written and now I see that I must read “The Grief Club” too. I’m not a person of faith, but I am beyond grateful for you, your experience, strength & hope, and most of all for your ability to be so honest and candid. I share that gift or ability with you. My losses and grief have piled up to the extent that I’ve been tempted on numerous occassions to take my own life just to stop the never ending pain. I’m in the middle of Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning” and just prior to reading your site, decided my “meaning” is to give and receive unconditional love. I give it well and that is a gift I received from my Dad, who passed just over 20 yrs ago. I’m still not over missing him terribly. We had the perfect codependent relationship, if that’s not an oxymoron. You’ve done a wonderful thing, Melody, by writing all your books and creating this site. You found your “meaning” and made a tremendous impact in so many people’s lives. I commend you! As for me, I’m living one moment at a time cause it’s all I can handle at present. With love & respect, Karen
Hi. Thanks for writing, and your kind words. It’s been by (surprised) privilege to write to so many, and find that my experiences mirror theirs. It sounds like you’ve worked hard on yourself. I’ve come to this conclusion: there’s a tunnel we go through in life. When we go through it, some call it depresion; others don’t bother to call it anything. We seem to run out of hope and we know things just are as they are, and sometimes Life sucks. There is light, but it’s also a long tunnel. For me, it becamee part of learning “radical faith.” It’s one thing to say God, as we understand a Higher Power “loves us.” It’s easy to say that when say, we get in an accident, and we and our children survive. We could have been killed, but weren’t. “Oh, God really loves us,” we say. “Or the Universe loves us.” It’s a whole different deal when our son dies, or our marriage of thirty years ends, or we come down with an illness. Being able to look up at the heavens and say, “Life is good, and my Higher Power loves me,” isn’t as easy. We may be so dang mad at life we don’t even want to say it. It’s a series of lessons we go through — on our way to a new understanding of life. As to purpose, I’m fairly convinced that we don’t find it; it finds us — when the time is right. MOst of the time we don’t even know that we’re living out our purpose when we’re doing it, and that’s good as our ego doesn’t run the show. I enjoyed hearing from you. Stay in touch. I believe one of the biggest kept secrets in the world is how much pain everyone is in. Best, Melody
Thanks so much for taking time to respond. A wise man told me recently that if we kill our self, we don’t end the pain – we just spread it around to others. I think that got me through that very difficult day when I was overwhelmed with grief and pain. I spent the 20th anniversary of my dad’s death in the ER with a friend who had injured himself. The setting led me to relive the trauma of 8/23/92 in glaring detail. Amazing how every moment of that tragedy is crystal clear to this day. He died at 58 years old of a massive coronary at a BBQ. I was the only one who didn’t react – rather I acted. Barked orders at everyone in an attempt to save his life. All to no avail other than the knowledge that everything possible was done. No mistakes. No should haves. Two days after the anniversary, we were back at the ER. Bored waiting for doctors, I did an internet search on my smart phone to find dad’s obituary (someone had disputed the date of death), but instead discovered that his name appeared in several newspaper articles from the early 50′s. Turned out that he had killed another young man in a gang fight in NYC when he was 17 years old. He stabbed him several times, including one in the heart. He was convicted at 18, but I had to stop my research at that point due to obsession and shock. Only three family members who were alive at the time are still alive now. The eldest denied it. I’m not on speaking terms with another. The remaining one shared her memories with me and told me of my dad’s childhood abuse. My heart broke again for my dad because this family secret explained so much about his life. He lived in shame with little self esteem, many bad choices and personal failures. Yes, he was tough and macho through and through, but it was the only thing that made him feel good about himself. Yet, he made sure my brother and I knew how strong his unconditional love for us was and always worked to build our self esteem. Now I see how much I modeled myself after him. They call native born Israelis “Sabras”, named after a cactus that is very rough on the outside and very soft on the inside. My dad and I fit the bill. So what’s the lesson? We’re as sick as our secrets, even when we don’t know we have them. My dad did right by his kids even if his parents didn’t do right by him as a child and young man. My dad was able to forgive his parents. My dad did the best he could with what he had. There’s so much more to this story, but you get the gist. I now see my dad with much more compassion and no less love, but I need to work on forgiving my grandparents for both what they did to my dad and for the emotional abuse I suffered from them as well. Grief for the pain my dad lived with, for the family of the young man he killed, and for my dad not loving himself enough to prevent his own death (refusal to take care of heart condition). If you recall the “3 A’s”, I’m now in Awareness but having a lot of trouble with Acceptance. I journal about all of this, but I appreciate that I have the opportunity to share some of it with you. My fortune cookie from 2 nights ago read “Life is a gift. Don’t waste it.” I’m doing the best I can right now to take those words to heart. Thanks, Melody.
I can hear your pain on so many levels. Sick as our secrets? Sounds kind of negative to me. How about as healthy as the people we took a risk and loved? I like the sound of that better. As I have told others, I will tell you: I’m not glad you need to be here, but I’m grateful you found this site. Not only are you dealing with the loss of your dad, you’re dealing with reframing your entire past — how everything and everyone fit in, and the reasons for this and that. That’s tough and plays mind games with our head while grief does its number on our heart. Please stay in touch. Best, Melody
Lost my husband seven months ago and finding it hard to cope, and a friend told me about you. I don’t know what book to get?
Hi. It’s hard to know, but if you haven’t read The Grief Club or Language of Letting Go (and no, you don’t have to “let go” of your husband if he passed; you can stil love him just as much as you do) — either of those may be a good place to start. You can scan pages of most of my books at Amazon, or read a portion. I don’t like pushing my books. My intuition says you’d benefit most from The Grief Club. You can read a chapter of it here at the site. It’s a collection of free-standing stories, each about one person’s experience with loss and how he or she dealt/is dealing with it. Language of Letting Go is a reading for each day that validates our emotions and experience, no matter what we’re going through. Thanks for posting, and please let us know how you’re doing. Melody
Melody, Thank You for what you shared about your experience with your mother . I can choose to love my mother in spite of not because of, the same as I believe God Loves me, unconditionally. You made a “decision” to do so and this is where it starts. Thank you for the good words. I also wonder about the epidemic of long term marriages breaking up. My own divorce was many years ago, but I was married for 25 years. A neighbor recently divorced after 28 years and there are many others I have heard or read about. My reaction to my ex-husband was the same as I read with the woman who said she walked on eggs shells and tried to be good enough. It took many years but I came to see my response as my disease. I blamed him for how I felt rather than dealing with my own ism’s and issues. If only you didn’t… then I wouldn’t have to… My entire focus was how can I make him see the light once the spiral of addiction started. It is such a powerless place to exist. I blamed everything I did or didn’t do on his drinking or drug use or infidelity. Truth is I didn’t have a clue as to how one did life any other way.