Now that this has happened, what am I going to do about me?
Parents from 33 states sat down for two days of brainstorming ways to change the status quo of adolescent treatment and recovery. In respect to the lives damaged and lost to substance use addiction these parents choked back tears and finished their work today. Looking back at their bewildered minds in the days of trying to find help for their sons and daughters the parents diligently recalled the good, the bad, and the ugly. Looking but not staring allowed the parents to focus on ideas. The results were fueled by mercy not bitterness. Their sons and daughters have died or outgrown adolescents so no change in policy or attitude will affect their families. But it's not for themselves that they go to the dark places. It's for others--- Those who today may not see what's coming at them like a freight train.
Gigantic goodness grows from the tiniest seeds of hope. A visible, vocal national movement is growing in fertile soil. It has a chance because the seed is watered by the tears of loving parents pained by the produce of ambivalence which had it's start in an attitude of resentment. Americans care but the body count has gone unreported. We're killing our young people at rates that should trigger riots in the streets.
In a day when the United States Government is deciding which businesses are "too big to fail", I believe Americans are going to decide addiction treatment and recovery is too important to fail. Misguided national sentiment toward addiction is approaching the end.
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Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Families of Youth with Substance Use Addiction Second Day
A study shows alcohol commercials and movie scenes influence drinking
JoinTogether.org provided that link.
We heard today that there are exactly ZERO dollars in the 2009 stimulus bill for substance use addiction treatment. What was the final total $870 BILLION--- A Trillion dollars and not a nickle for substance use addiction? Once again our words say one thing and our actions prove another.
Parents at this conference have impressive attitudes. These are people who raised to believe doing right things... praying, meditating, would help keep their children safe. They trusted our government's promise to care about America's children was real. First they discovered when they needed help there were no resources, no understanding, no compassion. In fact, the best Uncle Sam would do was arrest their child with a charge of some violation of a get tough law. Treatment for addiction is simple--make the addict a criminal. After the government showed its true face, God was next to dissapoint. What parent didn't learn at an early age to pray to God for the well being of loved ones? My prayer went something like: "Dear God, thank you for my children. Please keep them safe through the day and at night. Amen." That should do it. Wrong. Uncle Sam told us he cared and showed us he doesn't. God never promised us freedom from death, but the expectation was reasonable for children, wasn't it?
The landscape in the United States favors the alcohol and pharmacutical industries. Top to bottom these people have friends who vote. Barriers to dumping their wares where we live are eliminated by politicians. Truth in advertising doesn't pertain to producers of intoxicants and pharmacuticals.
A suggestion was made today to fund treatment with dollars raised in taxing the companies who advertise alcohol and drugs. The excited cheers and supportive laughter said plenty. No one is asking for restitution. I think they are in favor of the contributors to their children's darkest days and deaths stepping up to join them in being part of a solution.
There is no possible way these industries can deny their advertising and entertainment marketing has a positive correlation to drinking. But, you know they will try.
JoinTogether.org provided that link.
We heard today that there are exactly ZERO dollars in the 2009 stimulus bill for substance use addiction treatment. What was the final total $870 BILLION--- A Trillion dollars and not a nickle for substance use addiction? Once again our words say one thing and our actions prove another.
Parents at this conference have impressive attitudes. These are people who raised to believe doing right things... praying, meditating, would help keep their children safe. They trusted our government's promise to care about America's children was real. First they discovered when they needed help there were no resources, no understanding, no compassion. In fact, the best Uncle Sam would do was arrest their child with a charge of some violation of a get tough law. Treatment for addiction is simple--make the addict a criminal. After the government showed its true face, God was next to dissapoint. What parent didn't learn at an early age to pray to God for the well being of loved ones? My prayer went something like: "Dear God, thank you for my children. Please keep them safe through the day and at night. Amen." That should do it. Wrong. Uncle Sam told us he cared and showed us he doesn't. God never promised us freedom from death, but the expectation was reasonable for children, wasn't it?
The landscape in the United States favors the alcohol and pharmacutical industries. Top to bottom these people have friends who vote. Barriers to dumping their wares where we live are eliminated by politicians. Truth in advertising doesn't pertain to producers of intoxicants and pharmacuticals.
A suggestion was made today to fund treatment with dollars raised in taxing the companies who advertise alcohol and drugs. The excited cheers and supportive laughter said plenty. No one is asking for restitution. I think they are in favor of the contributors to their children's darkest days and deaths stepping up to join them in being part of a solution.
There is no possible way these industries can deny their advertising and entertainment marketing has a positive correlation to drinking. But, you know they will try.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Families of Youth with Substance Use Addiction
Cling to the thought that in God's hands, the dark past is the greatest possession you have--the key to life and happiness for others. With it you can avert death and misery for them. p. 124 of the Big Book.
Five years ago no one would have asked me for my opinion on substance use addiction. Oh, I gave my opinion but no one was asking. I'm humbled to be sitting in a hotel outside of Washington, DC exchanging greatest possessions with people from all over the U.S.A. Moms and Dads are here to collectively put their dark pasts in the hands of a higher power.
I live in Wisconsin. A farming state. We think of farming as crops and cattle. There is a new kind of farming sweeping the country. Farming with a PH as in Pharming--the illegal use of legal drugs, typically obtained illegally. Oxycontin is the crop most commonly pharmed. Every state with medicine cabinets in their home has the fertile ground necessary to raise Oxycontin.
Governments and big business can not move people with their message the way moms, dads, and siblings can. Here's a powerful message from a mom I met at dinner-- www.Momsagainstpharming.com
Compassion of a Mother in pain is powerful. I heard words from her I've heard from other Moms and Dads--I was angry, but that wasn't going to make a difference, so I started telling the story. I don't know the young man who's Mother gave me this brochure-- Legal but Deadly. He looks like every 19 year old boy--young, pleasant, happy sometimes, frustrated sometimes. His pictures show an athletic young man. The grave stone looks cold and final. I don't think his life is final because his Mom lives.
Death and misery will be averted for some people because people in pain share.
Five years ago no one would have asked me for my opinion on substance use addiction. Oh, I gave my opinion but no one was asking. I'm humbled to be sitting in a hotel outside of Washington, DC exchanging greatest possessions with people from all over the U.S.A. Moms and Dads are here to collectively put their dark pasts in the hands of a higher power.
I live in Wisconsin. A farming state. We think of farming as crops and cattle. There is a new kind of farming sweeping the country. Farming with a PH as in Pharming--the illegal use of legal drugs, typically obtained illegally. Oxycontin is the crop most commonly pharmed. Every state with medicine cabinets in their home has the fertile ground necessary to raise Oxycontin.
Governments and big business can not move people with their message the way moms, dads, and siblings can. Here's a powerful message from a mom I met at dinner-- www.Momsagainstpharming.com
Compassion of a Mother in pain is powerful. I heard words from her I've heard from other Moms and Dads--I was angry, but that wasn't going to make a difference, so I started telling the story. I don't know the young man who's Mother gave me this brochure-- Legal but Deadly. He looks like every 19 year old boy--young, pleasant, happy sometimes, frustrated sometimes. His pictures show an athletic young man. The grave stone looks cold and final. I don't think his life is final because his Mom lives.
Death and misery will be averted for some people because people in pain share.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Different Life By Choice
Succumbo. Latin for surrender. I chose to succumb. Quitting was not an option. A door to life opened when I chose succumbo.
Happiness does not exist as a thing which can be held, acquired, attained, pursued, kept. Happiness is fleeting and the instant it fleets, a choice to be replaces the lost happiness.
Should I be quicker to forgive happiness? Should there be an apology for being abrupt before acceptance? Do I set myself up for dissapointment by not resisting happiness longer? Happiness doesn't leave me, I let it go. I'm grateful happiness has the patience of a book and the forgiveness of a saint.
Happiness does not exist as a thing which can be held, acquired, attained, pursued, kept. Happiness is fleeting and the instant it fleets, a choice to be replaces the lost happiness.
Should I be quicker to forgive happiness? Should there be an apology for being abrupt before acceptance? Do I set myself up for dissapointment by not resisting happiness longer? Happiness doesn't leave me, I let it go. I'm grateful happiness has the patience of a book and the forgiveness of a saint.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
River With No End Has Serenity
Two years ago a song by John Prine gave me a visual in a song. A river with no end. From my view point back then, the river of grief had no end. Fast flowing currents, sharp rocks, smooth boulders-- all brutally hard. Dangerous undertows, ice cold or just cold, no exit, frightening blind corners, no turning back. I expected to be tossed battered and dead into a serene pool at the rapids' end. Tranquility awaits the unwilling traveler. He will arrive---either dead or alive.
The book Grey Owl, perfectly described the final scene. I don't have the exact words but they depicted a traveler thrown from his canoe, struggling against the current, the rocks, the debris, bashed in the violence of water rushing with a purpose. The purpose was to kill slowly at first then quickly with violence and then toss the corpse into a quiet pool of still water. Freshly dead the body would float with a new calm. The only witnesses to the murder were the trees which toward over the river. They would turn a blind eye toward the details. Having seen everything they stood mute. The violence had no effect on their day. The trees saw it all and understood nothing. Had the man lived they would have cared no more or less. The river has no mercy. Trees have no compassion.
Grief is the river. The world I left towers and sways with the winds. Had I fallen from the canoe or chosen to abandon the safety of the vessel, my arrival at the end would have been without my knowledge. I know the canoe is battered. I survived. There is peace. Serenity is the gift.
The book Grey Owl, perfectly described the final scene. I don't have the exact words but they depicted a traveler thrown from his canoe, struggling against the current, the rocks, the debris, bashed in the violence of water rushing with a purpose. The purpose was to kill slowly at first then quickly with violence and then toss the corpse into a quiet pool of still water. Freshly dead the body would float with a new calm. The only witnesses to the murder were the trees which toward over the river. They would turn a blind eye toward the details. Having seen everything they stood mute. The violence had no effect on their day. The trees saw it all and understood nothing. Had the man lived they would have cared no more or less. The river has no mercy. Trees have no compassion.
Grief is the river. The world I left towers and sways with the winds. Had I fallen from the canoe or chosen to abandon the safety of the vessel, my arrival at the end would have been without my knowledge. I know the canoe is battered. I survived. There is peace. Serenity is the gift.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Who Owns the View?
Nine degrees above zero isn't cold weather on a sunny day...out of the wind. I wouldn't wear shorts but with a sweater, jacket, warm socks and shoes, and a hat a walk in the woods in 9 degrees is more pleasant than a walk in a park in 79 degrees and sunny. Sunday morning was one of those perfect March days for a walk. The snow has melted down to patchy white ice on the southwest sides of the hills. Falls flattened sheddings are a damp mat layering the ground. There are no insects buzzing and biting. Somethings about to happen in the woods and these are the final days of calm before the tree and plant people wake up.
Doc and I followed the beaten path until we reached a fork in the woods. The path going up was well worn. To our left going down the hill was a snow crusted trail. I would likely be tresspassing to leave the trail but the road less traveled led to uncertainty. I have to know where I'm not invited to go. Surely there must be something more interesting where no one has gone.
The route having been left unventured through the winter was easier walking. The road more traveled was mostly ice. A treacherous walk but the destination was certain because it was well marked for the snowmobilers. The unmarked trail had the potential of adventure. Doc walks like a good boy now. He stays within 20 yards. Every few minutes he stops to see that I'm still with him, smiles, and runs back to me as if I just returned home a week away. Doc makes sure other four legged people know he's been there. He carries an incredible amount of pee which he deposits after thoroughly inspecting various stops.
Northern Wisconsin has an abundance of evergreen trees. A more aware person would know the difference in species. I call them all pine trees. Southern Wisconsin is not as green as the north woods. When I see a pine in the souther forests I'm drawn to it. How'd it get there? How'd it survive? Where I grew up the lush green and spicy aroma is something I took for granted. Here the pine is less fragrant to me but each tree is a green land mark. Doc and I came around a bend and our virgin trail disappeared. We weren't the first to travel here since the snow fell. Turkey by the dozens used this trail. Their tracks told the story of their journey. The clump of pine trees might have given them protection from the wind. The big oaks were likely roosts.
Doc led the way to the pines. Something with their mass must intrigue him. He had to inspect, snoop, pee, sniff. Standing next to the pines, the view to the north west was spectacular. Eastern Dane County is flat. The glacier leveled the land on its way south, and deposited debris as it retreated. To the west the glacier pushed heaps at its edge and then retreated. What it left us to the western edge of our county is beautiful rolling hills and deep valleys.
I have a walking stick I made from an ash tree. Five years ago I cut the tree and left it to dry in Aaron's room thinking he would carve something out of it. He came home and died before doing anything with the wood. I carved a walking stick for Patrick. It stayed with me. A symbol was carved into the handle. A stick man walking between rain drops, cool and slow. I leaned on the stick and admired the view. Three houses dotted the scene. Some people possess the land. The view is free.
My thoughts were with Thoreau. Is it the farmer who has the land or the land who has the farmer? If I owned the hill and the valley would I appreciate the view? I said a prayer of thanks for all that does not have me.
Doc and I followed the beaten path until we reached a fork in the woods. The path going up was well worn. To our left going down the hill was a snow crusted trail. I would likely be tresspassing to leave the trail but the road less traveled led to uncertainty. I have to know where I'm not invited to go. Surely there must be something more interesting where no one has gone.
The route having been left unventured through the winter was easier walking. The road more traveled was mostly ice. A treacherous walk but the destination was certain because it was well marked for the snowmobilers. The unmarked trail had the potential of adventure. Doc walks like a good boy now. He stays within 20 yards. Every few minutes he stops to see that I'm still with him, smiles, and runs back to me as if I just returned home a week away. Doc makes sure other four legged people know he's been there. He carries an incredible amount of pee which he deposits after thoroughly inspecting various stops.
Northern Wisconsin has an abundance of evergreen trees. A more aware person would know the difference in species. I call them all pine trees. Southern Wisconsin is not as green as the north woods. When I see a pine in the souther forests I'm drawn to it. How'd it get there? How'd it survive? Where I grew up the lush green and spicy aroma is something I took for granted. Here the pine is less fragrant to me but each tree is a green land mark. Doc and I came around a bend and our virgin trail disappeared. We weren't the first to travel here since the snow fell. Turkey by the dozens used this trail. Their tracks told the story of their journey. The clump of pine trees might have given them protection from the wind. The big oaks were likely roosts.
Doc led the way to the pines. Something with their mass must intrigue him. He had to inspect, snoop, pee, sniff. Standing next to the pines, the view to the north west was spectacular. Eastern Dane County is flat. The glacier leveled the land on its way south, and deposited debris as it retreated. To the west the glacier pushed heaps at its edge and then retreated. What it left us to the western edge of our county is beautiful rolling hills and deep valleys.
I have a walking stick I made from an ash tree. Five years ago I cut the tree and left it to dry in Aaron's room thinking he would carve something out of it. He came home and died before doing anything with the wood. I carved a walking stick for Patrick. It stayed with me. A symbol was carved into the handle. A stick man walking between rain drops, cool and slow. I leaned on the stick and admired the view. Three houses dotted the scene. Some people possess the land. The view is free.
My thoughts were with Thoreau. Is it the farmer who has the land or the land who has the farmer? If I owned the hill and the valley would I appreciate the view? I said a prayer of thanks for all that does not have me.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Proverbs
Two Wise Men and a student.
Wisdom was handed down to our grandparents by their ancestors and they perfected their knowledge in the great depression. My parents grew up in the households of wisdom. I wonder how often King Solomon's Proverbs were read in living rooms and at kitchen tables across America in the 1930's? Given the choice of the newspapers or Proverbs for starting and ending the day today, I'm choosing the King.
Talk about depression. For how much longer will failure and finger pointing be news worthy? Attitude is the greatest depression. There are stories in the world about Americans who are taking action, keeping businesses open, paying employees fair wages, creating jobs, and making life better for someone. A test of faith is to believe it's happening because you wouldn't know it by what's being reported.
I quit reading the paper and put my TV in the closet. There is no reason to go to madison.com anymore either. I'll watch YouTube and Thirty Rock on-line for entertainment--but not at home, I have no cable.
There are 31 Proverbs. One a day for the month of March. I'm guessing on April 1 my attitude will be better than had I read the paper for a month.
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