GUESS WHAT NORMAL IS

Book of Note - Wayne Kritsberg's 'The Adult Children of Alcoholics Syndrome: A Step-by-Step Guide to Discovery and Recovery'

 

The shortest and probably the most concise book about why children of alcoholics have the problems they do is The Adult Children of Alcoholics Syndrome: A Step-by-Step Guide to Discovery and Recovery  by Wayne Kritsberg. (It's $8 on Amazon.com)  You'll see yourself written in this book -- you'll see your whole family.  The book answers the essential, "How do I know if I'm from an alcoholic family?" questions immediately, then goes on to show how, why, and what now.  Of course, like most self-help books, the words ADULT CHILDREN OF ALCOHOLICS is written in large, upper-case letters across the front cover, so that everyone can see that you're reading a self-help book with one glance. (I got very good at making homemade book covers out of wrapping paper when I used to ride the subway...)  

The book is a great first text to read when you're just getting into finding out about why it's hard to be the child of alcoholics.  A first book because it's short (155 pages) and because it cuts to the point, describing the heart of the matter:  the types of alcoholic families that exist (4 types) and the roles that kids in those families play (6 roles).  For me, it was an eye-opening book.  It's the kind you underline and make notes in as you read, something you truly identify with.   

"Adult children of alcoholics can and do recover.  Thousands of ACoAs are in the recovery process right now, and thousands more will be joining that process as more and more information about alcoholism and its effects on the family becomes available to the public.  It must be remembered, however, that recovery is a process, not an event."

4 Family Types.  According to the author, a counselor, there are 4 types of alcoholic families: 

If you're from family Type 1, your family line is riddled with alcoholism, your parent(s) is drinking and there are drinking aunts or uncles and grandparents and there are rumors of great-grandparents having had issues with "the bottle."  

If you're from family Type 2, the alcoholic(s) has stopped drinking, and gotten sober, but their behavior and the dynamics in the family are still very much in line with that of an active, drinking alcoholic.  So it's a dry but sick family.

With family Type 3 , there hasn't been active, alcoholic drinking for a generation, or more.  This family type is fascinating!  This means that your parents don't drink and don't have drinking problems, but they still act like they do because they're inherited the emotional characteristics and behavioral handicaps from previous generations.  

Type 4 is the kind of family that doesn't have an alcoholic history and nobody is an alcoholic, but then someone becomes one.  This is a brand new alcoholic family. 

The family I grew up in was family Type 1, my father being the alcoholic, until it became Type 2 when I was in Junior High and my father became a sober, recovering alcoholic. There wasn't much difference between the two.

"ACoAs are full of repressed emotions.  They have carried these emotions around with them for years, and these must find a way out.  They must be felt in order for the ACoA to let go and be free."

The 6 Roles We Take On.  The author also talks about the 6 roles that we grow up embodying -- the Hero, the Scapegoat, the Lost One, the Clown, the Placater, and the Enabler.  You might guess which roles your played just by their titles.

The Hero makes the family look good, and like everything is OK, by being successful in school or, later, work.  The Scapegoat gets into trouble, which takes the focus off the family and onto them.  The Lost One hides, doesn't 'make waves,' and has a non-presence (invisible). The Clown is obvious, it's the child who tries to keep everyone laughing and is always cracking jokes.  The Placater's role is making everything "better" by smoothing over conflict (the human resources person).  The Enabler works to protect the alcoholic from experiencing the consequences of his or her behavior.

I played the role of a Lost One for many years -- quiet, polite, asking for nothing, making no demands, and  sometimes played the Hero -- going off to work in the Big City, being independent, and definitely played the Placater role from time to time, too -- helping my siblings pretend everything was normal so that we could get through the day, so that my siblings could feel less pain and confusion.  Placaters can't say "no."

"Letting go of the chains of the past and finding forgiveness for both themselves and their families is an integral part of the recovery process for ACoAs.  To do this takes many hours of work that is both painful and at times frightening.  The question asked over and over by ACoAs is "Is it worth it?"  The only answer can come from within."

Written by a Counselor.  Where the book is weak is that it's not particularly warm or talkative, and it reads like it's written for psychology professionals more than for children of alcoholics themselves.  It's about "them," not about you and I, if you know what I mean. (That's typical of these types of books.)  

Worth it for the Charts. There are some superior charts in the book.  I love this book's charts because I can see, "Yes, that's my experience!" with a short glance.  That was my reaction to the Chronic Shock Flowchart which illustrates how children raised in alcoholic homes deal with shock versus how children of "functional" families do. You'll look at this chart and within 30 seconds have a much greater understanding of why your mind gets fuzzy when you have decision to make or your emotions are out of reach.  

The chart shows that when a serious, upsetting event occurs (divorce, for example) that "functional" families (a) talk about the event, (b) put the event in context, (c) support and love one another, (d) allow one another's various reactions to the event to play out, (e) and integrate the event into their lives, and (f) then it becomes a resolved event.  I'm sure you can predict what the "dysfunctional" family's process is, right?  (a) the family is silent about the event, (b) there is no support of one another, (c) there is generalized emotional shut-down among family members, (d) and the shock is never resolved - there is memory loss and disassociation and a state of chronic shock stays active in us. Sound familiar?

"There are two general types of family myths.  The first is the myth of how the family perceives itself.  The second type consists of those unsubstantiated stories that exist in every family that are not necessarily fact but add richness and a certain color to the family history.  Alcoholic families abound with family myths."

Not Just Emotional Characteristics. The book also talks about the various characteristics of children of alcoholics, and talks about the physical characteristics, too, which I think are so very important (some of the physical characteristics are lower back pain, tense shoulders, gastro-intestinal disorders, sexual dysfunction, and allergies).  The author divides the characteristics into Emotional (fear), Mental (confusion), Physical (back pain), and Behavioral (manipulative behaviors).

Suggestions for Writing & Thinking.  In the second part of the book, there are some writing and thinking exercises for getting a sense of your own personal history in the context of the characteristics and ideas outlined in the book.  This part of the book is extremely worthwhile -- one of the exercises is writing an honest letter from yourself as a child to your adult self, reporting on what that child saw and heard at that time in childhood. Ow, right? 

--ae. 

  

On Mother's Day

"There is nothing so difficult to arrive at as the nature and personality of one's parents. Death, about which so much mystery is made, is perhaps no mystery at all. But the history of one's parents has to be pieced together from fragments, their motives and character guessed at, and the truth about them deeply buried, like a boulder that projects one small surface above the level of smooth lawn, and when you come to dig around it, proves to be too large ever to move, though each year's frost forces it up a little higher."

We all want to understand our parents, no matter what kind of parents they were, whether we admired them or despised them. (I think this quote gets at that craving beautifully, and is from the novel, "Time Will Darken It," by William Maxwell.) We must learn about our parents to understand ourselves, especially our differences. So we dig, and we dig. I have a new analysis of my mother and my father, and my stepmother, too, every year that passes and certainly as I have more experiences and grow older. I then see new angles, perceive new reasons, have new appreciations. 

Mother's Day was always a haunting day for me. My experience of her wasn't captured in any of the Hallmark cards down at Wallgreens. There was no card that I could send to my mother, and I don't think I ever sent her one. This weekend, however, I'm thankful to tears to the universe that my mother and father created me;  because without this life, I wouldn't get the chance to know the enormous love of a child, my son.  It's a love that can't truly be measured, weighed, or described without sounding gooshy, but I suspect that it's why Earth remains in orbit. (I don't exactly plan to share that theory with NASA.) 

Mother's Day is complex. Bittersweet.  That's just the way it is. Whatever you do, however you celebrate your mother, directly or indirectly, try to celebrate yourself, your life, your dreams, and your goodness. Your life is in your hands now; you're raising yourself.  

My great discovery is this:  we can give what we didn't receive--to ourself, our partner, our children--it's within us.  And that giving will transform you if you let it. 

On Forgiveness

People sometimes refuse to forgive what someone has done because they think of forgiveness as giving in or condoning bad behavior;  that's not it.  Forgiveness doesn't mean saying that something was okay, just that you are at peace with what happened -- forgiveness means that you're no longer enslaved by it.  

Years ago, I lived in New York City.  I did a lot of journal writing then.  In cafes, on the subway, in cafes, at burrito shops, and in more cafes.  I was writing to try to understand myself, my mind and heart, my pain then, and how to dissolve the pain.  Journal writing and the thinking that went along with it was my Dawn dishwashing liquid, dissolving the hardest, most clingy pain. 

The complexity of my issues with my mother was particularly tough to cut through then.  My mother allowed my stepmother to adopt me as her own daughter when I was six-years-old.  I was opposed to this with every fiber in my small person's body.  But I had no voice.  I didn't live with my mom after age four, I lived with her parents from age four to five.  She was eccentric (read crazy) and plagued by addictions.  The word "abandoned" is overused these days, but my mother abandoned all her mothering responsibilities.  She stopped mothering me when I was four, so she had memories of us together, while I have none.  She spent her entire life trying to get back on her feet and sober but never succeeded for very long and she died at age 53.  You can read about her here .  

She would call me at two a.m. to talk as if it were two in the afternoon, she sent me Christmas ornaments for my birthday in August (wrapped in newsprint); her strangeness was extremely hard for me to handle and I longed for a normal, loving, nurturing mother.  I ached for it.  I rejected the narcissistic one I had, the one who'd left me to her parents to raise (later she would call this act of abandoning me "setting you free." )

One day the weight of her, and my anger towards her, was too much.  I was in my own way.  I needed to be lighter. 

So, I forgave my mother.  I traded my hate for lightness.  Here's what I did:  I lit a candle and turned off my bedroom light.  I watched the flame of the candle, and tried to put everything else out of my mind--the loud city outside my window, my roommate in the bathroom, all of it.  

As I began whatever I was about to do (I didn't really know), I realized that I had to not just THINK the forgiveness, but I had to say the words, too.  So I found myself whispering.  I said things like I forgive you for hurting me.  I'm not going to carry this anger around after this moment.  I forgive your selfishness, your turning your back on me.  I forgive the world in which this pain happened. 

Whispering was essential.  And the formality--the candle--as simple as it was, was essential.  Every word I whispered to the candle I really, really meant and felt.  That act of forgiveness was a bargain I was making, a bargain of complete forgiveness in exchange for a bit of lightness.  A lot was at stake--I had felt the anger and disgust toward my mother for a very, very long time.  I was attached to that anger and disgust.  It had occupied a space in my heart for so long that it was actually like saying goodbye to a dear but crazy friend when it was time to let it go. 

I whispered the words, and cried and cried.  The relief was immense.  It was real.  I never looked back, I was propelled forward. 

Not surprisingly, other layers of emotion revealed themselves over the years, and there was of course more to think about and work through regarding my mother.  Much!  But the act of forgiveness of the abandonment specifically was a really important, freeing step for me.  And I learned that we're all built to self-heal.  

Don't Tell Me About Authority Figure Issues!

Authority figure issues anyone?  Oh, yes.  We've got them. 

I've posted before about our complicated relationship with authority figures (in college, it's professors, in the work world, it's our bosses, our new "moms" and "dads").  Mainly, I wrote about authority figure issues in the context of handling criticism but I also mentioned it in terms of our assets as children of alcoholics. 

How would you know if you have authority figure issues?  Well, you almost certainly have them if you grew up in an alcoholic household, because you were raised by an unreliable authority figure (with his or her own authority figure issues). Your first model of an authority figure was a problematic one. People with authority figure issues often have problems with their bosses, stemming from an inability to respect the position of authority their boss has.  People with authority figure issues will pick fights with people in positions of authority -- a cop, a teacher, a coach, or anyone who has the power to say "no," or tell someone what to do, such as a clerk, a waiter, or a ticket taker who seizes the food you brought into the movie theater.  

Know the saying "Question Authority"?  I used to see it on bumper stickers a lot in the 1980s.  I think it's an important concept. An ideal. I think kids should be able to question their parents' thinking, and feel free to do so. And I think employees should be empowered to question their bosses, and have open lines of communication between them.  However, questioning authority and inveighing against it are different, and it's important to know where the line between the two is -- and when your actions are productive and when they're counter-productive. 

I witnessed my father have more public arguments than I care to remember with people in positions of authority while I was growing up.  I hated being the girl whose father was creating a scene in public. And, of course, it was always the other guy who was the asshole. What I hope I've inherited is his confidence to confront others, but in a fashion that doesn't have dramatic consequences.  

Anyway, it took me a while (that is, years) to realize that I had my own issues with authority figures. I don't pick fights, I grapple with my issues internally.  I have a history of finding it hard to respect my bosses. I always start out liking them.  But over time, that liking feeling fades--and, soon, I start to see them as "real" people, real flawed people, and then I start to feel resentful, to feel shortchanged for having such an imperfect boss. I then find it hard to want to work hard for the person. Eventually, I caught on to my issue. I saw it for the pattern it was. I realized that bosses are imperfect, all of them, and that I better learn how to work effectively with them -- if I wanted their respect. 

It never occurred to me that bosses were human, imperfect.  I don't know why I should be so surprised that my bosses were flawed.  Of course they were.  Just like parents!  I'm sure that I was re-living an emotional drama from my childhood--the disappointment that I felt as a child when my parents failed me due to their flawed characters and lacking emotional wherewithal.  (That's why it helps, as parents, to 'fess up to your poor decisions, acknowledge to your children that you got mad or did a stupid thing -- it helps them categorize it, and contextualize it. And know you're human, and humans make mistakes.  Even human parents!) 

In any case, none of that is the point of this post.  Rather, this is: lately I've been reading a lot of books about raising children and caring for babies.  One book in particular inspired this post:  Unconditional Parenting, by Alfie Kohn.  It's not for children of alcoholics in particular, it's for anyone raising a child or children.  Kohn's belief, and experience, is that over-praising children backfires and creates insecure children.  He believes that if we tell children that they're "great" all the time, that we love them for doing their chores, being "good," or for sharing a toy, that they will come to rely on praise so much that they won't want to do things not tied to praise (they'll need praise to be motivated to do anything).  

Similarly, he talks about threats and use of authority, and how the use (or mis-use) of authority will always backfire. (Authority figure issues are always from childhood!)

He writes:

"When we make children feel powerless, forcing them to submit to our will, this often generates intense anger, and just because that anger can't be expressed at the moment doesn't mean it disappears."  And, "When we make children obey by force, threats, or punishment, we make them feel helpless.  They can't stand feeling helpless, so they provoke another confrontation to prove they still have some power.  And when do they learn how to use that power?  From us.  Not only does authoritarian parenting make them mad; it also teaches them how to direct that anger against another person.  Such children may grow up with a constant need to thumb their noses at authority figures."

I had to read that last line again when I saw it:  "Such children may grow up with a constant need to thumb their noses at authority figures."

For sure! 

I've always maintained that we distrust authority figures because we had untrustworthy authority figures in our childhood lives.  But the Kohn book illuminated something new for me:  we had parents who were rigid, controlling, authoritarian alcoholics (among other things) and they expected us to do what they said.  Maybe yelling at us achieved results in the short term, but in the long run, their yelling did us a disservice.  

Now we're faced with the task of disengaging from our authority figure issues.  

Perhaps the next time you bristle at feeling like you're being told what to do or you're irritated with someone in a position of authority, ask yourself who really has the issue - them, or you?  What end-result do you want - think about that. 

Perhaps the next time your child questions your authority, have the confidence and calm to allow them room to comfortably ask "Why?"  Nurture your child's sense of reason.  Explain your thinking.  (If you always tell them, "Because-I-say-so," that doesn't teach them much.)

As always, we can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Kindness garners better, longer-lasting results than hostility, always.  

--ae

Be Spontaneous, it will Bring You Joy

 

There are moments in which I feel terribly grateful that I didn’t break things apart in my life. Not that I’m itching to break things apart, but I think we all live with the occasional urge to flee the scene and dismantle our lives, jobs, friendships, or romantic relationships. These satisfying moments are fleeting, but they are also powerful—in them I know with complete certainty what is good in my life. And those moments prove my theory that it’s worth it to stick with things and not run from life. (And I don’t mean ‘stick things out,’ I mean stick with things, things that are good.) 

I often credit my old therapist with my current five-year long relationship because without her telling me, “Just wait and see how things are tomorrow, next week, next month…” I might have listened to the ‘jump out the door and pull your ripcord’ voice in my head. That therapist also helped me learn how to determine from where the voice originated—whether from a old, scared childhood place or from a new, adult, courageous one. More frequently the voice originating from a new, courageous place wins, and I am oh so grateful for that. The more I stick with things, the more valuable life skill I learn—like learning to work with coworkers or managers who have completely different work and communication styles from me (rather than quitting just because someone new was hired above me or because I don’t naturally get along with was transferred to my team).

I had a feeling grateful moment recently. And I learned something new about when life feels magical when it occurred. It was a sunny day, almost hot, with just a few cottony clouds. After running an errand in town, we spontaneously decided to take a drive to Sonoma to get Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Once we got to Sonoma, a short half-hour drive away, I realized that my relatives who were visiting the area might already have arrived at their hotel, and called them.*  My timing was good; they were just arriving at their hotel. We postponed the ice cream for the moment and walked through town to their hotel. We spent the next couple hours talking with my uncle and his wife, catching up on their lives, having coffee and wine, and sitting in the sun in one of the gardens of the hotel. When he became hungry, I fed my baby—outside in the sun under the clouds and the trees. What a joy. After a while, my relatives needed to take their naps, and we left to get our ice cream and sit in the park. As we drove back home, it hit me: the afternoon was perfect. 

I felt that sensation of welling up, not to cry nor to laugh, but a huge yet containable welling up of emotion. I was grateful for it and, I thought, “So glad I didn’t break things apart in my life,” and I was glad for having stuck with all the decisions I’ve made so far. Only by sticking with things can you feel the gratification of longevity. And therefore we could be there—we three, driving through the hills, a family.

But I’m analytical so I had to know, Why did it feel perfect? 

It felt perfect because it was all spontaneous. There was nothing controlled, or planned about the afternoon—just the errand we began with. And because nothing was orchestrated, there could be no expectations. If the exact afternoon had been planned ahead of time, the conversation wouldn’t have been enjoyable, we probably would have been running late (you’re on-time if things are spontaneous), and I’d be preoccupied by where I had to be next. It wouldn’t have felt ‘perfectly lazy’ because it wouldn’t have measured up to the plan, the expectations for it. (I think of these kinds of afternoons as “European,” always.) 

I’m convinced that our prescription for joy is healthy doses of spontaneity. Think about it. It’s not a waste of time, because an afternoon spent spontaneously will give you a feeling of being alive. Try it. 

It’s the best medicine. And you don’t need a prescription. 

--ae

*A note about the phone call to my uncle:  because I didn't want him to think that we'd driven to Sonoma to see them on their one day alone (we actually hadn't; we had plans to see them the next day, and the next), I made a point of telling him why we were in Sonoma. So I said,  "We're in Sonoma anyway, we came here to...run errands."  My fiancee nudged and me,  laughing, "Tell them why we're really here!"  And then I laughed and said, "Actually, correction:  we're here to get Ben & Jerry's ice cream, we're not here to run errands."  My uncle got a laugh out of that.  I'm not sure why I didn't want to admit to being there just for ice cream.  But it was the truth.  And refreshing to say it.  And of course I thought of the characteristic of children of alcoholics:  "Adult Children of Alcoholics lie when it is just as easy to tell the truth."  Why did I tell that silly lie? Was I embarrassed to admit we'd driven to another town to indulge in ice cream?  (Not really.)  Was it because I was worried about their not wanting to see us till the next day, that I felt the need to alter reality? (Yeah.)  Did I not think they'd believe that we were in town just for ice cream?  (Yeah, again.)  For some reason, I was really concerned they'd think we were barging in on them...even when we weren't.  That last bit comes from growing up in a family where appearances were incredibly important to maintaining the fiction of our family being 'just fine' when it wasn't.  

Are You Most Comfortable One-on-One?

Are you the kind of person who has always spent time with friends, family, or co-workers one-on-one, rather than in small groups

It seems to me that people tend to fall into two types, being either 'group' people or 'solo' people. I'm not naturally a group person. In the past I've never been one to suggest that a group do something together. "Let's all go to the movies!" Nope. That was not me. I'm drawn to the individual, because one-on-one time feels well-spent, by which I mean deeper, more interesting, and less superficial. 

But, as always, it's in my nature to double-check my assumptions, to do a 360 degree walk around my habitual behaviors, to investigate myself. So, when I began to wonder why is it that I have spent more time one-on-one than in groups, I came up with the answer that it's got to have something to do with growing up in an alcoholic household. 

People who grew up in a family that spent a lot of time with other families and extended families where lots of people-centered events took place will grow up to find themselves comfortable and naturally drawn to spending time in groups. They were raised that way!  (An image of a first-generation Italian family comes to mind -- food-centered and family-centered gatherings of people, with large amounts of hot, homemade food, jolly conversation, and laughter.) In any case, the alcoholic family isn't one like that -- alcoholic families tend toward isolation. An alcoholic family tends to breed loners. 

If we grew up in a family that was isolated because of its "illness" of alcoholism, then we're not going to be naturals at enjoying group events. Just the opposite; we tend to feel extra-awkward, lost, or left out and insecure in groups of three, or four, or more. We grew up uneasy with our own spontaneity. We haven't let our spontaneous self out to play very often, or not at all. We're out of practice, and some of us are likely afraid that if we let our real self loose, we'll be laughed at for being us, and ultimately be rejected. 

Guess what? It's harder to control one's spontaneity in group settings. Spontaneity is required for groups, and it's impossible to pretend to be what the other person seems to want when you're in a group setting.  (If you're a people-pleaser, then it's easier to be one-on-one and just reflect what the other person seems to need -- not so with groups of people. )

Small talk and large groups go together like pasta and garlic bread (i.e., they go together deliciously.) 

People from alcoholic families don't feel very talented at making small talk (brevity is even a challenge on Facebook).  Small talk is hard because we didn't do much of it in our families. Talk in our families was loaded with meaning, accusations, longing, and suggestions of betrayal.  And, so, we are hard-wired to REACT to what is being said to us. And, also, we never learned how to RELAX, stop reading things into every word people utter, and just have a simple, meaningless conversation.  Let's have more meaningless conversations, let's just simply enjoy one another's company!  Lighten up, laugh.  Let go of your old habit of unconsciously monitoring every conversation for threats to your safety. That's an old habit. 

So, why don't we hang out in groups more often, and let our spontaneity out to play? Why not say 'yes' next time you're invited out, or take initiative and invite a group of people to do something (don't worry what people will talk about or if they'll get along)? Wouldn't it be a relief to let go of your analytical, over-active mind, your self-checking apparatus, and have fun? 

I often admire eccentric, loud, or brash people -- not because I like them, but for their spontaneity. 

If you're a narcissist, this may be hard because one-on-one situations are best for captivating (or would that be monopolizing?) a person's attention entirely -- you only have to fight one person for the spotlight, not three or four. And it's harder to enjoy yourself in a group because you have to draw on skills that you infrequently use, like listening, having interest in what others have to say, and good conversation skills. But, do try it. 

You'll learn more about life listening than you will talking, I guarantee it. Listen with interest, not an agenda. This takes practice, incidentally! Get used to asking people "Why?" a lot, or "Really?" or just, "Yeah?" and waiting, quietly for the response. 

Shut off your head, and open your ears. 

We're growing up, bit by bit.

What I've been up to lately...

Creating life, a son! 

I promise I'll be back on Guess What Normal Is soon as I'm able... 

--amy eden

A Gift is Just a Gift - How to Not Meet Expectations

Right after Thanksgiving the holidays pounced on us, like it or not. And whether or not it's a religious holiday for you, everyone is expected to participate. Macy's, KMart, and Home Depot, and all the rest, will be sure that you don't forget: expectations are upon you.

That is, if you accept those expectations.

This holiday season I remembered a gift that my uncle once gave me. I was in seventh grade. It was a box of Wheaties. Yes, that orange-colored box with cereal in it. Healthy, and high in fiber (and preservatives). None of us believed it. "There must be a real gift inside...?" But the boxed was wrapped with wrapping paper--it was the gift. The top was sealed. "This must be a collector's edition...?" But there wasn't anyone significantly important on the box. "Hmmm." We concluded, "Must just be a box of cereal. Huh. That's weird." We chalked it up to his being in law school, and poor. And a bit quirky...anti-establishment.

Not only did I think about that box of Wheaties recently, several times, but realized that I was fantasizing about giving similarly cheap, odd gifts to my family this year. As if to say, "This is the best I could do this year, this gift will not complete you, and I hope you will be satisfied with what you already have."

100 Ways to Live Better Now

Here's a great list of actions--one hundred of them--we can take to improve our lives immediately. One hundred things makes for a long To Do list, but this one's inspiring, not defeating, and I like how the list is organized into types of things - ways to Stay on Task and be Productive, Staying Connected, ways to improve your mind, your body, your wallet, and the environment as well.

Enjoy:

One hundred ways to improve your life today.

Are You In Your Own Way?

From what frame of mind do you view your world?

The frame through which you view your world is made up of all your life experiences, your emotions, your education, relationship experiences, your social class, financial situation, and obviously your personal issues. You and one hundered other people, in the same situation, at the same gathering, post office, carnival, farmer's market, airport...will each interpret it differently. It's very hard if not impossible to exist objectively - and there's no reason to, unless you want to be a scientist and uncreative about it all. But it's important to consider what your point of view is made of. What's the frame through which you view and interpret the world composed of?

Any time you are in a situation (in line at the coffee shop) or in conversation, you are interpreting what's going on. Think about it. If you text or call your friend while you're waiting in line, you might comment on how inefficient the people behind the counter are, you might comment that the line is really long (but what's "long" given the time of day and amount of time you have and how good their coffee is? Probably the line feels longer if you have less time - that's subjective, an interpretation) or that your day is completely off-track because nothing has gone right, especially not this "quick" trip to the coffee shop. Plus, the jerks are out of your favorite scone. Of course! What a disaster.

Do you think everyone in line is having those same thoughts? Probably not. Look around you - how are the other people in line seeming to 'be' in this situation? At peace? Frustrated? Distracted? Reading? I don't know about you but I am amused by the people who look frustrated and irritated by the situation because they seem like victims of their own personal drama (and unnecessarily so!) Occasionally someone will turn to you, and say, "Can you believe the inefficiency of these people?! Remind me not to get my coffee here!" And it's often a surprise because strangers will be coming from a very different frame of mind than your own. Yet, we often do the polite thing and shake our heads, "Oh, yeah, I know." Unless you're honest enough to say, "I really like this place and I'm happy to wait." (Meanwhile, you interpret the other person as being uptight, and they interpret you as being unobservant.)

Anyway, my point is that while we're all in the same situation, we're not experiencing it the same because of what's in our heads and the frame through which we view the world. We're in totally different but identical realities.

CONTINUED...

October is Anti-Depression Month, Get Your Depression Basics Here

I would go ahead and declare October Depression Month, but I bet it has already been declared by some higher authority, psychologist, or (most likely) the marketing arm of a big pharmaceutical company.

I like Anti-Depression Month better anyway. 'Anti-depression' is encouraging and hopeful to my ear.

In this post I'll share the basics of depression symptoms and summary of many treatments, with links for further reading, like the Discovery Channel's Depression 101.

As always, and I will never had said this enough (I say this for me as much as you all): you owe it to yourself to get cardiovascular exercise every day and eat fewer high-producing foods as well. Heal from the inside-out.

If you're depressed, chances are you already know it. Being depressed is not a state of being to feel ashamed of. It happens--a lot, to a lot of people. Are you hesitating to seek treatment because you don't want to admit to yourself or a therapist or doctor that you're depressed? Depression is normal, and common, and the sooner that you admit you're depressed, the sooner you can work to feel better (then you'll wonder why you waited).

CONTINUED...

Fall is Here, You Depressed Yet?

Long ago I noticed that overcast days and Sundays were days on which I felt blue. And, oh God, a combination of the two--overcast and Sunday--was a guaranteed day of dreariness, during which I felt as if I had slabs of granite cuffed to my ankles.

Since fall is here, the days are going to get darker, cooler, and many of us are already worrying about what our brain is going to do to us now--will it let us fall into a horrible funk?

The grass is always greener: if you live in Iceland, fall is really, really, really dark and dreary. It's about as bad as it gets. I have spent time there during winter and it's hard to imagine what living through so much darkness would be like, year after year (once or twice is a novelty). In Iceland, you see the sun rise, partially, at 11 a.m. and set again at 3 p.m. It only partially rises, there's no high noon sun there, just a low sun. Most of us don't have it that bad, right?

As fall approaches, be ready to handle its affect on your mood. For starters, don't travel to Iceland if you're sensitive to darkness in the afternoon! Figure out what's going on (are you 'depressed' or DEPRESSED?), and take action to manage your mental state. This may mean adding exercise and modifying your diet for some people and medication and therapy for others -- in all cases, it'll require a forgiving, nurturing frame of mind.

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Read Before Eating: Simple Ways to Educate Yourself about Food

You are what you eat, just like you are what you think. What you put into your body will be reflected by your body, and your mind.

Eating becomes an act of love as soon as you begin to educate yourself about what you're putting in your body. (The food manufacturers don't care about your health like you do. They care about making a buck - your hard-earned buck.) For a meaningful book about eating and emotions, I really like Geneen Roth's When Food is Love - but, to be honest, I recommend all of her books.

Geneen Roth's Eating Books

We all need to make changes to how we eat. That is a constant. The idea is to make small changes, nothing drastic. The idea is to succeed in adopting healthy habits. For example, if you don't exercise and you want to start a running routine, then start walking fast first. Add the running bit by bit. If you want to cut your caloric intake to loose some weight, then make small changes (eat one cookie not two, eat half a sandwich, not a whole one, or skip dessert and have tea instead half the time, etc.)

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5 Tips for Coping with Commitment Issues (Theirs)

Some people find this blog through Google searches, others find it through Wikipedia, or a link they find on a related site. Last week, I clicked around in my stats to see what Google searches brought people here. I noticed a pattern (I was hoping for that): the word "commitment." Completely shocking that one of us would have questions about commitment, isn't it?

Commitment, by definition, is a pledge, promise, or agreement to engage in something. Committing to something means we made (or they made) a promise to follow-through. Words like commitment, engage, and promise are real and definite; would it surprise you that anyone who battles alcoholism or a similar addiction might have issues with commitment? Promises kept are not an alcoholic's strength.

They're not ours, either. We, just like alcoholics, have issues with promising ourselves. Partly because we've done more promising of ourselves than we ever intended to do (beyond our boundaries) and partly because we were raised by a role model who had issues with commitment -- we're like them by nurture.

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Criticism, You Can Take It - Your Issues at Work Part III

There are all kinds of criticism. Three main types are regular criticism, constructive criticism, and unproductive criticism. The first two types can be helpful to your professional growth and fairly easy to cope with. The last one can occasionally be hurtful, but can sometimes be useful if you learn how to extract the helpful information from it.

Most people value criticism given to them from people they trust and admire. It's more of a challenge to have an open mind about criticism given to you from a manager, boss, or supervisor -- mostly because we, as adults from alcoholic families, tend not to trust authority figures. Sure, we have good reason not to have trusted the original authority figure in our lives, but need we apply that to all authority figures? I don't think so. Remember, everyone is human, has their strengths and weaknesses -- including your manager. (If you dislike your manager, ask yourself if that attitude is in some way 'protecting' you from having to look at yourself more closely and make changes to your approach to work. It may well be that your attitude is keeping you from growth that you badly need.)

Let's say that you are someone who, for whatever reason, does not always meet deadlines. If your supervisor were to talk to you about this, she might say (using regular criticism): You're inconsistent with making deadlines.

If she were to refer to this issue using constructive criticism, she'd say, "I suggest you start to give yourself double the time you think you need to complete tasks, so that you can always get them done on time and meet deadlines," or something like that.

The key difference between regular criticism and constructive criticism is that constructive criticism offers a solution.

If you're supervisor said, "You never make deadlines and you're making me look bad," well, that would be the unproductive brand of criticism.

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a short story

A friend recently sent me this short story; I hope his story resonates with you as much as it did with me.

* * *

I went to the cape this weekend. I packed up some miscellaneous camping supplies, threw my surfboard on the roof, charged up my ipod and hit the road.

I didn’t really want to call Rose. I know she’s as sweet as can be, but she just brings back nothing but memories of my old man. And unfortunately, for me, those are mostly bad. When she didn’t show up at my fathers funeral she sent me a consoling email. We went back and forth a few times – me somehow telling her I’d come visit. It’s not like I didn’t want to - I did, I just didn’t want to deal with all that went along with the encounter. I’d avoided all such encounters for over 2 years before my father died. I got busy and moved to California so I thought I was off the hook even though I know that’s just my head talking. But then I moved back. I felt obligated but also felt that maybe it would do me some good to actually face up to my fears. Experience has shown me that it really does help in the long run.

STORY CONTINUES...

Making a Decision? 10 Questions to Ask Yourself

We make decisions all the time, some small, some large -- asking someone out on a date/accepting a date, joining a club, moving, looking for a new job, breaking-up, changing your hairstyle, joining a gym, having a difficult conversation/confrontation, going to a party, buying a computer or car, or going on a trip, buying groceries, making new friends...

Decisions abound!

To make good decisions, "good" being what's right for you right now, you need to know yourself, respect your boundaries, and be willing to stretch your comfort zones.

Stretching your comfort zones is healthy because it adds variety and newness to your life experience. So, if you're not very social, if you isolate easily, then you should say yes to plans that include social activities and anything that gets you out of the house. And if you hate committing yourself to plans because you enjoy having the flexibility of doing 'whatever-whenever,' try committing yourself to one thing that you know you can satisfy.

It's just as important to protect your boundaries, that which keeps you feeling calm and content. Say you know that you tend to say yes to everyone and everything then, consequently, feel stressed-out and over-committed--then it's best to be aware of this, slow down, and say 'no.'

Here are some questions you can ask yourself when faced with making the next decision that comes your way (or just consult the new magic 8 ball):

1. Do you feel impulsive about this decision - are you obsessing over it? If so, you must take a break from it. Don't get caught in the clutches of imagined pressure -- take control, detach.

2. If you feel you need to make a decision quickly, why?

3. What impact might delaying the decision have on the outcome, if any?

CONTINUED....

Still Blaming Others for Your Lot in Life?

Ask yourself, have you totally gotten on with your life and stopped blaming other people, your parents, for your problems?

Here's the way I look at it. I'm not saying you should adopt my mind frame, but I'm offering it up to you because it's helped me a lot. My parents were responsible for how they raised me, treated me, talked to me, etc. while I was in their care, until I left for college. At that point, once I left for college, I became my own charge, my own responsibility, and my own parent. I was the one responsible for me then. Once we leave home, we became the one single person responsible for figuring out who we are, who we want to be, how to be a good person, and how to acquire the tools to do all that. I think that to blame anyone else at this point is a decision to stop evolving; you'll get stuck.

For sure, it's unfortunate that we got a less than ideal foundation laid for us by our family. And it's unfortunate that we don't have the kind of support and encouragement from our family that we see other people receiving. But, there's nothing we can do about that. There is nothing we can do about the childhood we had, it is what is was. Sure, you can complain and blame, but don't spend too long doing that or you'll lose out on creating a life you want to enjoy and participate in. (Far as I know get just one of these lives, so I want to make it count.)

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Alltop, a New Place to Find Information about Recovery

Guess what? I received an email from Guy Kawasaki, author of The Art of the Start, this week. He wanted to let me know that Guess What Normal Is has been added to the recovery section of Alltop.com, a "digital magazine rack." How nice! (Thanks, Alltop!) You can see the recovery section of the site HERE.

Alltop is a website that offers another way to find information. Alltop's wish is that we get to skip the searching and searching and searching part of finding information. I looked through the Alltop site, which I think of as "all" the "top" information you care to read. The site, which is an information clearinghouse, or aggregator, has a lot of promise. I'm glad to be part of it. The site presents an alternate way to find pre-organized information you may want to read--news and blogs. Alltop is organized in the same way we'd organize information in our own lives (if we were that organized).

I can imagine visiting Alltop when I'm seeking just the "top" blogs and news on a specific topic (this takes trust, buy Guy has mine). It's an appreciated alternative when you're wanting to avoid an overwhelming Google search that delivers thousands of results (I know that I don't always have that kind of time or patience.)

What I like best is being able to "window shop" the site--you can just roll over the data with your cursor and get a previews of what's there without having to commit and click into the links.

They're building up the site now, so you can expect to see more topics and categories as it grows.

Unhappy Customers: Your Issues, at Work II

Unhappy customers are a fact of work.

I've been waiting in this line for an hour! Can I speak to the manager?! Are you people doing this for the first time?! Are you alive? I've emailed you for weeks - I deserve at least an explanation! Why are your prices so high? Why can't you get my delivery there? Aren't you a little young for the level of expertise required? Why didn't you give my son an A? You're late. Again. I said 'Non Fat, No Whip'!

How do you react to an unhappy customer? Do you think you're being blamed? Do you feel guilty, embarrassed, blamed, at fault, or frightened? Do you want to solve the problem as soon as possible just to get it over with?

Unhappy customers? It's not personal. Here's how to keep your cool.

CONTINUED...

Your Issues, at Work

You spend a lot of time at work. I do. Too much. So, it's likely that one or two of our issues would get in the way during the work day, right? I mean, it's not as if we can stop being people from less-than-perfect childhood homes and turn into emotionless robots at work, right? Too true.

So, what are our issues at work and how can we keep them out of the way of getting our jobs done?

Continued...

Get Confident about Your Intelligence

I was out with the neighbor's recently, after dinner at their house. Their other guests were a couple they've known for many years -- a seventy year old archaeologist and his fifty year old wife, a high school teacher. She is his fourth or fifth wife. I classified him as a narcissist within one minute of meeting him, then an alcoholic an hour later. (You all know what it's like to have such a finely-tuned radar.) The archaeologist writes books and was very interesting, so I tried to listen to him and filter out the noise of his dreary behavioral tics.

"You're not very educated, are you?" the archaeologist said to me after an hour, rhetorically, after having monopolized my attention and quoting the Koran only to find out that I have not read it. He said it like he meant to think it to himself, but happened to say the comment out loud. It wasn't a question, he was just kindly letting me know this thing about myself. The irony was that at this point in the evening he was inebriated and slurring his words and out of focus. So, his telling me that I'm not very educated earned about as much respect from me as would a child molester trying to give me parenting advice.

But it reminded me about something. It reminded me that we often feel dumb - or, rather, worry about being thought of as dumb. It's part of the hiding mindset that we're used to from childhood when everything was embarrassing. We assume that we don't know all the things that most people know. We think we're under-educated. And we're super-scared of this fact being found out, and we work to avoid it.

CONTINUED...

Give Yourself a Break

Give yourself a break. You don't have to do it all. You don't have to measure up to other people's standards. You may want to reevaluate your standards - are your standards fair? If you feel like you're disappointing other people, release yourself from that kind of thinking. it's not doing you any good. Live according to your own standards. Don't worry about what's normal, or not. Don't worry about "what they are thinking," just -- begin! Begin to trust your own instincts, your gut. Act according to what's right for you. It won't take long to get very good at hearing and trusting your gut; it takes practice. Begin to trust your gut, and it will lead you right. Give yourself a break. You're okay in every way. You're a work in progress. You are loved. Keep making good decisions, one at a time. --ae

There's Been a Change of Plan - Are You Going to Freak Out?

Have you ever noticed that when plans change--even a little bit--you get widgy? Itchy? Uncomfortable? Cranky? You thought you were going to run an errand, but your husband took the car without telling you. You planned a party, and half the people cancelled one day before. Your boss tells you that you need to give a presentation, at the last minute. Ever notice that you feel caught off-guard when it happens, and that the unexpectedness of it is what's hardest for you?

When plans change mid-stream, it's irritating. But for adult children of alcoholics, it's anxiety-provoking and even paralyzing. When plans change, which can mean something as small as making an out-of-way stop for your sister on your way home; or that your boyfriend isn't feeling up to a movie you'd agreed to see; or when all the items you want to order at a restaurant is everything they've run out of that night; or your doctor has to re-schedule your appointment...these are all changes to a plan. (Changes to our plan, not the plan of the Universe.) And we don't know how to cope with them very gracefully. We're used to rigidity! That's what we were taught. Control is king!

The world, however, is fluid. We were brought up rigid. But you can't be rigid in a fluid world. We've got to learn to be fluid, bendable, flexible, nimble, and plugged-into spontaneity.

CONTINUED...

The Characteristics of the Alcoholic Household

My jumping-off point for this post is the Wayne Kritsberg book, Adult Children of Alcoholics Syndrome. I've owned it for a long time, and the spine of it has become very relaxed! It's the book I buy for others or loan out to house guests the most. It's a great short, to-the-point discussion of what it means to have grown up in an alcoholic home.

The "rules" of an alcoholic household tend to be: Rigidity. Silence. Denial. Isolation.

RIGIDITY.

For most of us, when we hear the term rigidity we relate to it and think of some scene--or scenes--from our childhood. All the black-and-white thinking we do comes from living with rigidity. You were either "good" or "bad," no in-between. No excuses allowed--save your excuses for someone who cares. If you had an excuse for doing something late or not at all, you were just whining. You loved your dad, or you didn't (and he decides that fact). You had to be in a good mood, chipper, when requested, no matter what mood you were in--dad, or mom, needed your good mood for their own ego. You're with me, or against me. That kind of family law is all about rigidity. Maybe you wanted to share your opinion about an issue at the dinner table--likely, if it was in opposition to your parent's, then it was unwelcome, and you were given the option to shut up or become 'the enemy.' Clean was never clean enough. Perfect is always a goal in the alcoholic home.

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