Jesus Knows Me / Shaky Life of the Nearly Courageous

The Best Moments sometimes came too late.

Deana8 Comments

I love my mother, heart and soul.

She was an alcoholic who left recovery after ten years of sobriety to return home and do it on her own. That was the biggest mistake she ever made in my opinion.She never took another drink, but I wouldn’t call what she lived, sobriety. 

Mom suffered from severe depression on and off for most of her life. This blog post is not intended to tarnish her memory. Nor is it intended to trash AA, it’s a wonderful program. Mom was an amazing women. A force to behold most days.

She is my beloved. The bravest women I know.  

I will always be thankful for her.

I spent three months with her before she passed and  as crazy hard as those days were, I am eternally grateful for that time.

Nothing was left unsaid.

Our last words to each other were “I love you.” and “I love you too.”

I have peace knowing that my mother loved me and knowing that she knew she was forgiven by me and that I loved her as well. Not many people have that. What a gift.

Mom was laid to rest on August 22, 2015 after a long 15 year battle with COPD and severe depression and anxiety.

May she finally be at peace.

I grieved for three years as she died piece by piece. And I grieve now, not so much always for what we had, but for what we missed.

When she was happy she was a screaming riot, full of life and humor. Manic almost in her pursuit of joy, gardening and art. She would work around the clock creating beauty. I loved those moments as a child, even if I couldn’t keep up. Those were the best moments really. Baking cookies in the middle of the night. Painting ornaments. Creating jelly. Mom on a manic was fun, if not exhausting.

In those moments she was wildly creative and wildly beautiful. 

But when she wasn’t happy, she was a force to be reckoned with, a storm with no warning and no chance of surviving. She was brutal, cutting, and fierce to anyone and every one.

She was, in those moments, my greatest source of pain. 

There was a lot of anger in her depression and those closest to her were her best targets; a sister, a daughter, a niece, a nephew, a friend, it really didn’t matter. She became cold, uncaring almost. Her body would clench up and her eyes would fill with tears as she spoke of those who had inflicted wounds in her life.

Were they real or perceived?

I’ll never know.

It was too much to bear really.

For me anyway.

The suicide attempts or threats.

The lies.

The threats of abandonment.

The manipulation.

The tears.

The anger.

There were countless times I’d speak to her on the phone or visit during one of her “moods” and I’d wind up in the hospital or back in therapy sifting for the truth.

One time, my doctor told me to either have her committed or walk away to save my own life.

I was willing to do neither and chose rather to weather the storm, come what may and find a way to love her in a way that she could recognize. I eventually did towards the end and I have no regrets.

Someone in AA told her that she could not take meds and be “sober.” They said Bipolar disorder was a “lie and an excuse.”

What a load of BS. AA itself does not have opinions on outside issues, but people do and she listened to the wrong ones.

That little pill would have changed both of our worlds for the better, but she wouldn’t take it because AA told her not to.

So who do I be mad at?

A 12 step program that saved my life and sanity through Alanon? That’s not fair.

Should I be mad at her? After all it was her choice not to take meds.

God?

The doctors who didn’t tell her the truth?

No one I guess.

I can’t afford it.

If I spend my days finding someone to be mad at, I’ll never heal.

I’ll spend my life like she did.

A victim.

Alone.

Afraid.

Angry.

Keeping score.

She’s at peace now.

It’s time for me to be the same.

Breathe Darlin’. It’s going to be okay. And if it’s not okay – hold my hand. Let’s walk this together. 

8 thoughts on “The Best Moments sometimes came too late.”

  1. Deana, this is an incredible story of healing and victory for you! I am so proud of your transparency and honesty! I am honored to know you and consider you a friend!!!

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  2. This post, specifically what you went through because of a misunderstanding of How it Works, is really having a heck of an effect on me today… Dammit, Deanna, it’s breaking my heart. I hate it when bad things happen within the program that still saves my bacon today.

    I know a guy, known him for quite some time – more than 20 years now. He was freakin’ nuts back in his early days, and he was complaining about how the program wasn’t working for him. I piped up later on, after everyone headed for the door and said something like, “You know, if it’s not working for you, have you considered that you’re not working it right?” Hell, I thought it was just a cool, witty thing to say. Fifteen years later, he walked up to me and said that he’d considered killing me that night, but once he thought about it for quite some time (months), he figured out that I was right. He changed tactics and recovered fully. He’s now happily married and doing very well. Still sober.

    That’s the way it’s supposed to work. I am very sorry for any damage caused by an ignorant member. It just sucks. We’re all just trying to help each other out by sharing our experience…

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    • She stayed for 10 years. I did Alanon for 30. Yes, the program does wonderful things. She made different choices, and I had to learn how to just be there without demanding she go back. Which I did a lot until I learned how to let that go.

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  4. AA never told your mom she couldn’t take doctor prescribed meds. AA, as an organization allows for psych meds. It says, right in the Big Book of AA that these people can recover too, if they have the capacity to be honest.

    Your mother was told by a person, or even several people IN AA that she shouldn’t take her meds.

    That same thing, for that same problem, I told a very good friend several years ago. He was once a vibrant member of AA. Witty, fun, hilarious. His meds reduced him to a drooling, catatonic shell of a man (this is not an underexaggeration or a play on words, I’m talking literal here). How could I possibly not say something? How could I sit back and let that grown man be reduced to that by his meds?

    Still, even after saying, simply that his doctor messed up his meds, that they needed to get them right, he died due to an overdose on those very meds. What would you have us do?

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    • You are right, it does. People however in the program sometimes play doctor. Unfortunately she believed them. I know many people who take meds and find new groups if one particular group does not allow it. .I am sorry about your friend that’s awful.

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      • You’re right, they do play doctor from time to time, but that’s people, not AA. That was my only point. Say Bob and I ride together on Tuesday night. I tell Bob that if he rides enough he wouldn’t need his Bipolar meds. Did Specialized tell Bob that he doesn’t need his meds? Nope, Jim did. That’s all I was trying to get at.

        And yes, Jeff was a tragedy. Honest to God, one of the funniest guys I’ve ever known. I still have a plaque we made at a canoe/camp trip using a magnifying glass on a piece of wood. Of all of the people’s names on that plaque, we’re all still sober.

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