My Baby: The Biggest Challenge Yet

This is my baby, Shelby. Just look at how beautiful she is. Plus, she is brilliant and extremely funny, her sense of humor a mirror image of mine.

I realize that she is all growed up, but she is still my baby. She always will be.

Just a few weeks ago, Shelby and a friend came by for a visit. She was excited because this friend had some sobriety and Shelby felt that it would be a positive influence on her, as she wants some semblance of sobriety as well. We all had a wonderful visit.

That was the last time I actually laid eyes on her until 8 days ago. We talked and texted plenty, but I didn't see her. She's a busy teenager, right?

Shelby was baptised on April 28, and I remember how excited she was to be back in the embrace of a solid foundation of faith. 2 days later, she called me and said that she was having some very "intense" dreams, almost nightmares. She also mentioned that she was hearing voices. These voices were the locutions of good forces and evil forces, according to her. She felt that there was a battle in progress, a battle for her soul. Fortunately, she told me, the good guys won. She felt that her recent baptism played a key role in the result of this battle.

A few days later, her mother called me, at work, and asked me to go pick up "your daughter" at the hospital. WTF?? I told her that that was impossible. I couldn't leave work, and my relief wasn't due for several hours. Besides, the hospital was a few miles from her, 30 miles from me. Do the math. She wasn't making any sense, and she hung up on me. She never did fully explain why Shelby was in the hospital, but we've been dealing with ER's for a long time with our daughter. That was on Thursday, May 1st.

Saturday morning, Shelby's mother called to tell me that our daughter was in the JPS psyche ward ER. Now, Shelby has been there before, but the circumstances were different. This time, her mom told me, Shelby was acting strange, thinking the she was God and that she and Jesus both died for our sins. She has "saved the world", she said to her mom. I hate to admit this, but at first, I entertained the idea that Shelby could be faking, as she tends to be a bit dramatic, for the attention. I was wrong.

When I got to the ER, on the 10th floor at JPS, one look into my baby's eyes was all it took. Shelby was no longer there. Oh, she knew who I was, but that was the only indication that she was my daughter.

The ER environment was horrible. She stayed in like a small waiting room, sleeping in a recliner for the time she was there, which was 3 days. The hospital had to wait for a bed to open up in the Adolescent unit, which is where she is now, thank God.

The few of you that have faithfully read this blog know all about my journey thus far. I've been very open about the trials and tribulations of my recovery. Bumps in the road? There have been a few, and I have kept true to my altruistic message: Clean house, trust God and help others. This is the secret to my success in recovery. It's as though I can deal with anything that comes my way, right?

Well, I never DREAMED, imagined, suspected, blah blah blah that something like this could happen to my baby. NEVER. Yes, she has been abusing drugs for several years. She has been to a few rehabs, yet I know thousands of people that have abused drugs, me included, and I mean REALLY abuse them. Sticking needles in every vein in their body, smoking anything they can get a hold of, etc.... But nothing like this ever happened to them??! You know? I'm talking decades of drug abuse, and today they are sober and in recovery.                                                                                                                

Then there's my sweet daughter, out there doing the deal as we say, and after an intensive meth binge ( about 30-40 days, according to Shell ), she gets a hold of some K2, and now she is a textbook schizophrenic. I just don't fucking get it.

My poor baby. GOD, this is just SO HARD. It's horrible, going to visit her, staring into her beautiful eyes, and seeing a stranger. Unbelievable, really. She knows who I am, and her mom, etc.... But she has these psychotic mannerisms, thoughts, statements and such, and it's just unbelievable.

Nothing in this fucking journey of mine has prepared me for THIS bullshit, NOTHING! My journey in recovery has nothing to do with the pain involved with looking into the eyes of the most precious human being in my life, and seeing a stranger. NOTHING!!

Please pardon my language. As you can imagine, I am very angry right now. No, I am not angry with God. I would have in the past, but not now. My girl made every choice, you know? She had a choice.

Later today, I will hopefully talk to the ever-elusive Doctor in charge of her case. Yep, that's right. Shelby has been there for 10 days, and I have YET talked to a Dr. I've been there every day, and talked to plenty of her nurses. I believe the nurses know more about what's going on anyway.

I have a few things to say to this Dr.

Thanks for reading, I will keep you posted.

God bless,

coop-

Emotional Growth

Well, hello once again, all. I said I was gonna write, and so here it goes, as promised.

I don't know, really. Things have been kinda odd as of late. Lots of things have been happening in my life, both good and bad, but it is still a learning and growing process. According to Sobriety 101, once we started using and abusing, we stopped growing emotionally. Which translates as- when I began this sober journey, I was the emotional equivalent of a 12 year old kid. So...that means that I am approaching 20, I guess....

Well, that's what they say, anyway. That being said, if you're struggling, and things don't seem to be going as well as you think they should, just remember this: give yourself a break, you are still maturing. WE are still learning how to deal with life as mature adults, something I've never done before.

I don't know, anymore. There was a time when sitting down and writing about my experiences was just the easiest thing to do. Now, I just can't seem to be able to evoke the same emotion as I once used to. I don't think my passion for sobriety is gone, it's just that I don't feel motivated to write about it anymore. Sobriety is still the most important factor of my life, but my desire to "save the world" is gone.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about this. It could very well be my ego, possibly. Since no one seems to read what I write, it makes me feel like I'm not reaching anyone, you know? BUT, I hesitate to mention 'ego' because it's our ego we begin to quash once we enter into recovery, fulling intending to work the program. So, it frightens me to think that my ego is still lurking in the background, seeping into the fallible weak spots of my program. YIKES!!!

If I proclaimed that 'it ain't so', then I might have a problem. But since I'm presently aware and actively addressing it with you, well, maybe there's hope for me yet! Life has been steadily presenting new and improved challenges for my alcoholic mind. Thankfully, with God's help, I'm trudging my way through it with my sobriety intact.

Anyway, there you have it. There's my little offering for now. I'm still growing, as you can see. Certainly better than being six feet under

Coop-

Another Year Comes To Pass

Well, here's to another year. I am quite comfortable with closing the book on 2013.

2013 started with my Father-in-law's birthday on the 1st, then my Mother-in-law's death on the 2nd. Six hours later that day, my wife had a heart attack. Several months later, my father had a heart attack.Wham Bam, Thank you ma'am.

Things are still not quite right with everyone. But, my wife and my dad are doing fine.

Let me explain 'not quite right': it seems as though the family has not been the same since Sarah's demise (my Mother-in-law). With the recent holiday season being the first time without her, I'm guessing it was weighing heavy upon everyone's heart. We didn't really get together and celebrate like times past. Isn't that strange? At a time when one would think that the family would draw upon each other for strength to endure the missing link, we were satisfied with taking the path of the Gypsy and remaining remotely aloof and distant. The Teflon brood, we are. Nothing sticks to us, let alone to each other.

Well, as the old adage goes, we all deal with stuff in our own way, right? I guess.

So, is anyone out there struggling with the temptations of the holidays? I hope not. You know, we will use any excuse to drink. The holiday season is is high on the average alcoholics list of "occasions to imbibe". When I actually take the time to think back to the days of my drinking, I try to recall my actual thoughts in regards to my reasoning to drink. Of course, every day was a good day to booze it up, but the holidays were not only an occasion, but a valid reason to not only drink, but to do so in extreme excess (even though, I drank excessively every day). So, when sobriety was becoming a subconscious necessity, I would wonder to myself, but what am I going to do on the holidays? I have to drink on those magical occasions. Of course, I would ponder that point to the Nth degree, never bringing to mind all of the other 'special occasions' I would reason to drink: birthdays, weekends, after a hard day at work (every day was a hard day, of course), my next divorce, funerals, maybe a friends wife would have a baby? What would I do then???

The ugly truth is that every day was yet another reason to drink. I could come up with all kinds of insane reasons. I had to. I needed to drink. People wanted to know why I drank so much, so I had to come up with valid reasons. And no matter the dreadful result of each blind blackout, I would go back for more.

In my recovery, I have learned about the nature of alcoholism, specifically that it is a two-fold disease. There is a mental obsession accompanied with a physical craving. Put another way:

 1) alcohol is all I can think about; it's existence in my life is first and foremost; simply planning ahead, when approaching an inevitable fearful, dreaded moment without it, will direct my every thought and movement in order to acquire more (this is compounded with the fact that my wife is somewhat unaware of my passion for the drink, so I have to be sneaky). 

Whenever I over-analyze my disease, one of the many quandary's that still elude my reasoning to this day is why? Why was I mentally obsessing over this stuff? About the only logic I can attach this to is that feeding my brain was my primary coping mechanism. I couldn't deal with life without being under the influence of some sort of mind-altering substance. Self medicating? Probably. I became accustomed to being 'buzzed' in order to put my foot forward. I garnered a kind of confidence that was otherwise alien to me, left to my own devices. After awhile, this became as routine or natural as breathing. Little did I know that what I was really doing was hiding behind a mask, presenting a false identity to the world, stunting my mental and spiritual growth in the process.

When one finally reaches a point in which they are receptive to or ready to make a change, it's the process of rebuilding their mental and emotional maturity that is the process of Recovery. The actual act of taking a drink is only a symptom of a much broader problem. I guess you could compare it to a Civil War, after which all is said and done, begins Reconstruction. This is the actual difficult part. Stopping "drinking" is really the easiest part, which is a bit of a anomaly, because it ain't easy.

2) once I take that first drink, I simply cannot stop. If there is booze on deck, I'm gonna swig until I black out (which was usually the case) or until it's all gone, regrettably. It's at this point that I will begin obsessing over how and when I can get more. You get the idea, I hope.

Isn't that an ugly way to live?

As I was saying, all of those silly reasons (excuses) to drink were really just convenient self-assurances that it was okay for me to drink. And it was never really okay, you know? I was destroying my life and more importantly, the lives of those around me. The ones that Love me. Or loved me. 

After a few years of this sobriety thing, I no longer stress over going to a Christmas or New Years celebration. I just show up, don't drink alcohol, and have a good time watching others make fools of themselves! In reality, there aren't many people at these parties that drink excessively. In fact, they are always leaving unfinished drinks all over the place, which really drives me crazy!!! 

I used to think that everyone drank like I did. Boy, how wrong I was.

Well, I hope I haven't bored you to tears and thanks for reading. I'm looking to improve my skills at posting this stuff, because I have this crazy urge to write a book. I know that it will deal with addiction and recovery, but I'm still outlining the heart and soul of the content. But, I will continue to keep writing in here, 'cause I really need the practice!

Happy New Year to y'all. Let's be nice to one another, ok?

-coop

Holiday Hangover

Exactly 7 years ago today, this evening to be exact, I was behaving badly.

I was in a drunken blackout. My wife and son had vacated the premises, taking refuge at her Mother's house. Incidentally, this was the evening we were celebrating Christmas at my In-Laws' house, so we were all supposed to be there, yet I wasn't.

Instead, I was running around my front yard, threatening to kill my daughter's Step Dad. My ex-wife is the one that informed me of my exploits on that dreadful evening, since I have absolutely no recollection of the incident.

And, as was tradition at the time, Arlington's finest was dispatched to my abode to handle the situation. At one point they had me on the ground with their Nine's drawn, a deadly bead on my noggin. My 10 year old daughter revealed this little nugget of info to me. She was watching her Daddy. To this day I am still bothered by this particular part of the evening.

I remember coming to, on the couch, with Christmas Vacation playing on the DVD player. I was alone, wondering where everyone was. My only thought was to call Sarah, my Mother-In-Law, and tell her I was coming over. She said, "okay". It was at this point that I figured something might be wrong. In a fog of waxing anxiety, I drove on over. 

When I got there, I was greeted by my Brother-In-Law and James, my Father-In-Law...oh, and the Police.

James declared that he wanted me off of his property. Well, I wasn't leaving without my daughter, so one of the officers went into the house to ask her if she wanted to leave with me.

She told him that she did NOT want to leave with me. I don't blame her.

So, as I stumbled to my car, one of the officers offered to drive me home, which was incredibly kind and unbelievable, since they could have easily arrested me for driving while intoxicated. The sad story of my pathetic life.

The entire family was terrified of me. I'm sure it's a Christmas they'll never forget. Nor will I.

So, the 'Hangover' the title refer's to is the memory of my ultimate, drunken romp. It finally ended on Jan. 11th, 2007. I will always remember my last 'drunk'. It will forever hang over my head as a healthy reminder of how things used to be. I will not dwell on the past, nor will I shut the door on it.

Somewhere this holiday season, there's a homeless mother, with kids, wondering how she is going to shelter her family for the evening; wondering how they're going to eat. While we sit around making merry about a jolly old man in a red suit, delivering toys, those kids are probably simply grateful just for receiving a meal on Christmas. 

I'll wager that that homeless family is very aware of 'the Reason for the Season'. Today, I sure am.

With that hanging heavy upon my heart, I know that today I am truly blessed. I am the wealthiest man in the world. I am also extremely grateful. One thing in particular I'm grateful for is that I no longer have to drown myself in alcohol to suffer the Holidays.

Today, I focus on being with my family this time of year, and reflect upon what could have been if I never got sober. 'Grateful' just scratches the surface.

Today, that same Father-In-Law welcomes me into his home whenever I want to visit. Our relationship is on an entirely different level. We truly love each other immensely. What a blessing. Yes, I'm still married to the same woman. And yes, she is quite possibly insane!

Merry Christmas, Everyone

-coop

"A Descent Into the Maelstrom"

Please forgive me if this comes off as pretentious, but I cannot understand how a reference to one of my favorite authors hasn't occurred to me until now.

The author is good 'ol Edgar Allan Poe. The short story is A Descent Into the Maelstrom.

Of course, I'm using this as a reference to the disease of Alcoholism. Now, the story bears no resemblance or insight to the typical journey of an alcoholic. But, what I wish to confer in this epistle is a series of uncanny, seemingly harmless occurrences that I consider the incipiency of my alcoholism.

In my elementary school days, I vaguely remember hearing of a mysterious author by the name of Edgar Allan Poe. I believe it was The Raven that first peaked my interest. But, it wasn't until Junior High that I came across the story A Descent Into the Maelstrom. And, I can clearly remember what vexed me so about this particular title: what in the hell is a maelstrom??

The rest of this story unfolds in a predictably typical, mundane fashion: I discover that a maelstrom is a gigantic whirlpool, I read the story, love it, Poe becomes my favorite author, alongside Conan Doyle. It's also around this time that I discover the wonderful, pleasing, warm, cozy embrace of King Alcohol.

Thus, this marks the beginning of my own descent into the Maelstrom. Yeah, this does seem to be a tad bit cheesy, but it really does present an accurate metaphor.

My drinking career, early on, is a classic study in adolescent experimentation. It was fun. I was breaking the rules, yet I was being hailed a rebel. A ground-breaking visionary, representing my fellow Jr. High Schoolers as a force to be reckoned with!

I will admit, my early drinking career was quite fun up until I I graduated High School. That's when things really started to go south. My behavior slowly went from decent to despicable, and it was then that I started drinking to forget. That, in turn, began the deterioration of my self esteem. All of that combined with spiritual bankruptcy makes for one miserable alcoholic. Only, I really didn't know I was miserable. 

Now, from that point up to the time I embraced sobriety, there were moments of happiness, but they never lasted very long. It also seemed to me that I was drinking to extinguish those rare moments of happiness. I'm pretty sure my ex-wives will corroborate this detail. 

So, there's my metaphorical presentation for the week. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I am grateful I survived my encounter with the maelstrom. In the story, three brothers were in the maelstrom and only one lived to tell about it. That's a 33.333...% survival rate. Compared to alcoholism, that's pretty good.

-later, coop

Status: Quo

I have to admit, these past couple of weeks have been very nice and quite uneventful.

I find that when I am being hit from every direction, I tend to forget about myself and focus on everything BUT me. My sobriety is everything to me. Without it, I am no good to anyone else.

Funny how that works.

For so many years I didn't care what use I was to others. All I cared about was me and when I could guzzle the next bottle.

Even though I'm sober, and have been going on 7 years, I still have to stay involved with the recovery process. Many people think, "hey man, it seems like you are doing good with not drinking. Why do you still go to meetings? You're cured, right?"

Wrong

One can never be cured of this disease. Like they say: In order to keep it, you gotta keep giving it away.

This is how cunning this disease is. Think about this for a second: A person gets Cancer, but the doctor says that he can treat it, and pretty much guarantee you a complete recovery. Without a doubt, that person's first words are, "When can we START?!?"

Now, take an alcoholic, and tell him or her that you have a program that will guarantee full recovery if they work it diligently, and you know what their first words are? "Ummm, let me get back with you on that."!!!

It's true. I've heard it a hundred times, at least. And don't be disillusioned about the mortality rate concerning alcohol. It is a Killer. Look it up for yourself. Plus, I don't think I've ever heard of someone having cancer and getting behind the wheel of a car and killing someone.

We all know what drinking and driving results in. Prisons are full of those individuals. I know. I used to carry the message to those prisoners.

Bottom line is, I have to maintain a steady connection with my recovery fellowship for the rest of my life, if I want to stay sober. But, sometimes life can get extremely complicated and become saturated with time consuming events. (and the events I'm referring to are of the long term variety).

When this happens, it is difficult to keep up with the little things that we need to keep us on track. And that's the kicker, is it not? It's during these times that we need our program the most, but the lack of time to be engaged keeps us away. Thus is the anomaly of our plight.

So, what do we do? We just keep doing the best we can. For me, my family is first. My mind cannot see it any other way. But, when I share this information with my sponsor or another close recovery member, they always say, "Well, Cooper, you still gotta take care of yourself." Well, no shit, Sherlock! Like I don't already know that?

But, if my wife is having a tough time, or my daughter, son, father-in-law, etc., needs me for whatever reason, I'm not about to say "well, honey, I'm sorry you're having a bad time right now, but I gotta go to a meeting. See ya later. Good luck." Unfortunately, that's exactly how life happens sometimes. Then before I know it, it's been 2 weeks since I've made a meeting!

As bad as that is for my recovery, I am able to evaluate and pinpoint the importance of what I am doing for my family, and realize that what I am doing is actually a part of my recovery. 

It's called a 'living amends'"

I'm making right that which I made so wrong for so many years.

And when that elusive extra hour finally does present itself? You're damn skippy that I go to a meeting! I'm too afraid not to.

I openly welcome the 'fear' that keeps me going.

Anyway, things are going fairly well right now. But, I will share with you that there is a slight squall on the horizon: this will be the first holiday season without my wonderful, beautiful, brilliant mother-in-law, Sarah Ethridge. That is beginning to put a damper on the general mood of my peeps, including myself. I've actually thought to myself that I'd just rather skip the upcoming holidays and move on.

But, that ain't gonna happen! We shall prevail, though.

God will see to it.

take care
-coop

A Minor Detachment?

This is a beautiful rendition of the Horsehead Nebula, located in Orion, taken by the Hubble Space Telescope; where Stars are truly born. You like?

My daughter is in rehab, in Corpus Christie, again. She has been there a little over a week. She has expressed to me that she actually wants to get sober.

The last time she was at this particular facility she did not want to be there. She made this quite clear from the get-go at the time. And, upon her discharge she made it abundantly clear that she despised sobriety. She openly discussed her defiant behavior she exhibited while in rehab.

She didn't want it, so she didn't get it.

I finally talked to her this past Wednesday, and I have to tell you, I almost didn't recognize her. Yeah, I knew it was her voice, but it was her mature delivery that threw me off. She sounded like a different person. And, she wasn't spewing empty promises. It was as if a switch had been thrown within. It was very strange, hearing this new and improved version of my baby.

The change in her couldn't be an immediate result of rehab, I'm certain (she's only been there about a week and a half). I believe it is something of a spiritual nature that has finally broken through her mental fog. I could actually hear the process of enlightenment in her words and in the timbre of her voice.

Of course, she is a drug addict, which qualifies her as an expert liar. As are all addicts and alcoholics. Time will tell.

Now to my purpose for writing: why am I seemingly apathetic towards this new and improved teenager? I feel as though I'm a detached, numb-headed nomad, confused as to how I want to feel about all of this. I mean, the last time she was there, all I could think about was making sure I sent at least 2 letters a week to her. Today? The thought of writing her just doesn't appeal to me. The feelings are similar to those pertaining to one of the many mundane chores we humans have in common that accompany our everyday existence. Like loading the dishwasher or filling up the gas tank.

That sounds horrible, doesn't it?

But, of course I have a good idea why I feel this way. I don't trust her. And, since I don't trust her, my mind is doing what it is designed to do; it is protecting me from all of the dreadful feelings I've felt for so many years.

After all of the disappointments, lies, and treacherous behaviors she has presented to us over the years, I think my mind is now officially on alert. Instead of my instinctual response of immediately going to DEFCON 1, (which is the most severe fear and worry mode), I'm hanging steady at DEFCON 5, refusing to allow myself to self destruct (which will be the end result if I continue to make myself sick with fear and dread).

I just cannot do that anymore. At least, not at this point. Hopefully, this time, I won't have to.

Hmmm, maybe I'm finally beginning to herd some acceptance into my program. God knows I've battled it for years. (Thing is, I've been able to settle into a comfy bed of acceptance with most other areas of my alcoholic life. But when it comes to my daughter, it has been a difficult, hostile crusade).

So, to all of you new to sobriety, just know that acceptance is a huge part of recovery. Don't be too hard on yourself if you don't get it at first.

Thanks for reading

coop