Mental Health

What a year.
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So, here is your Christmas card.
If you are a diehard,
you can print us out and put us up on your wall
so you can prove to all incomers
that you really do have friends.

This year was the kind
that we didn’t have a professional photo.
We also didn’t want to spend for the
cost of printing and mailing.

To put it lightly,
our family has been tried tremendously.
To put it honestly,
we have walked through hell
and we are hoping that we are on our way back.

It was the kind of year that made me grateful
for a simple family snapshot.
Even if it was
as an afterthought,
and we ended up with a crappy backdrop,
and the sun was in our eyes.

You see
we were on our way to church,
together.

And together
is
huge.
It’s more than anyone can ask for.

This morning
I realized that I wanted a living record
of the end of this year,
as I looked at my daughters
and the love of my life.
We were all in the colors,
black, white, and red.

And I saw that as a great representation
of a very hard year.

We are all
still trying to do the right things.
Together.
And that pretty much sums it up.
God has held us together
in the palm of His hand.

And I am extremely
humbled
and
grateful.
And happy.

I look forward in faith.
Even if the sun has been blinding.
And what better Christmas message is there?

My daughters would not be any more beautiful
with a professional photo to prove it.
My marriage would not be as strong
without the trials and intense work.
My friends would not have reached out to us
in such love
without our pain.
Our gratitude for loving parents
would not be as deep
without the struggle.
And our testimony of a loving God
would not be as intimate.

I think we have every reason
to
rejoice.

Jesus Christ makes all things possible.
He is love and light.
He will blind you
if that is what it takes
to heal you,
to love you,
and
to know you.

And when you get through it,
you will be grateful for a sun so bright.
Even if it hurt temporarily.

Merry Christmas to you.
Especially if the sun is blinding your eyes.

Stuck
This morning while trying to fold laundry
the baby was out of sight
for a few minutes.
She began hollering.
I ran to the rescue.
She had climbed onto the kitchen table.
My last post makes this story even funnier.
This morning someone had left the maple syrup
in the middle of the table.
Of course that is Caroline’s spot.
I assume she had climbed up to claim it back.
In her 16 month old mind
I guess she decided to take that syrup out.
Out of the bottle to be exact.
The table had a healthy layer of syrup
across it’s whole surface.
And of course Caroline
had it all over herself too.
She was hollering because she didn’t know
how to get out of the mess.
If she moved, she would stick in place.
I scooped her up and put her in the bathtub.
Clothes, shoes and all.
I’m experienced like that.
We got the job done.
Caroline was stick free.
The clothes were in the dirty laundry pile.
And the shoes were washed out.
The table was also scrubbed
to shine.
Now that Carline is down for a nap,
I’ve had a minute to reflect
on my relatively unproductive day.
About how this little incident
parallels my life right now.
I feel stuck in the middle
of a lot of sticky goo.
No matter where I choose to move to
or even if I choose to sit,
it’s still not fun.
And I want to holler out for help.
I wish someone would scoop
me up and throw me in the bath.
And then clean up all the messes.
And then I remember that I am 37 years old
in three days.
And no longer 16 months old.
And I have to find my own way
out of messes.
Even if I don’t like syrup
and would have never
spread it across my living space.
I need an
Aunt Jamima size miracle.
And I am sure that God will deliver.
Because I am his 16 month old
who cries out of help.
Even when I am 36 and 362 days.

My kind of Craft Project and Chore Chart
I am NOT crafty.
That is not a confession,
like the kind you have to hide in a closet,
but a declaration of this is part of who I am.
More power to those of you who are crafty and take joy in it.
I would rather buy your stuff than attempt it myself.
Because I am a shopper.
Shopping is a talent I like to spend my time working at.
I’ts also something that I have learned how to curb.

You see, God made everyone different.
It’s o.k. that I am not crafty.
It’s o.k. that I don’t want to spend my time
trying to be like most of the other moms I know.
It’s o.k. that I would rather spend my time
reading and writing and bargain shopping.
It’s o.k. that I don’t care if my girls hair is perfection.
And that I don’t even like those horrible
crazy HUGE bows on the modern babies’ heads.
It’s o.k. that my house is simple.
That I don’t need a showroom
for my friends.
It’s o.k. It’s o.k. It’s o.k.

I recently came across a friend’s cool craft project.
It involves a T-shirt and a can of spray paint.
It’s my kind of project.
I am going to try it.
But, I will probably never post a picture of it.
Because that’s just not who I am.
I would rather blog about my
thoughts, opinions, ideas, and funny stories.

Go over and check out how to do it at Jennifer’s blog.
She’s most definitely a crafty.
In fact her mom tried to teach me how to sew once.
It was a disaster.
The only way my ugly skirt got done
was because my sister took pity on my
and finished it after she got done with hers.
We were 14 and 16,
and she was and still is a million times craftier.

And to add to that
Here is an example of the simplicity I prefer.
It’s our chore chart.

I will show you how to make your own
if you are craft challenged.
Like me.

This system made it through the whole summer,
and is still in full swing
into the first week of school.
I’m very proud.
Not of its gorgeous display,
or the effective system,
but I am proud of the fact
that I pulled out
the electrical tape,
crayons,
scissors,
paper,
contact paper,
and magnets,
and my kids made it for me.

The kids were crossing their weekly jobs out
with a dry erase marker
as they get them done.
Now, we just know when they’ve got them done.
The sooner the better.

Each of the girls were assigned a row.
Oldest to youngest.
And there is even a spot for Caroline.
Because we are putting her to work
as soon as possible.
Trust me,
the older girls
can’t wait to pawn stuff off on her.

And they each have three columns.
One for everyday jobs.
And a column of weekly jobs.
Because Excel spreadsheets,
I can reinvent.
We rotate the dailies on a weekly basis.
And they get to choose their own weeklies.
First come, first serve.
They love the grab.
And the competition.
We’ve initiated the concept
in family scripture study too.
Scripture chase:
Old Testament.
Go.
Proverbs 3:5-6
They are memorizing the
scripture songs
so they can get faster.
Watch out seminary kids.
The Gold Girls are in the house.

The last column is completely unrelated.
They are not rewarded any longer for chores.
They are expected to comply.
They don’t get allowance.
But, they do get warm fuzzies
for good behavior.
Kind of like
dad gets warm fuzzies from mama
for bringing home the bacon.

The black circles are worth 1 warm fuzzy.
The yellow are worth 2 and a treat at the store.
The red are worth 3 and a rented Redbox.
The blues are the biggest hit.
They are worth 10 and a date with mom, dad, or a friend.
The green are worth 20 or $5.
They haven’t learned to save up yet.
They like instant gratification.
In the form of candy and movies.
Lucky for dad.

The term warm fuzzy was coined
by my first grade teacher.
And you will hear me use it as a threat often.
“Go take two warm fuzzies for hitting your sister.”
But hopefully, more often than threatening,
you will hear me rewarding:
“Everyone gets three warm fuzzies
for being so helpful today.”

It’s on the fridge,
like every other important thing in my life.

And did I mention?
That it’s been working
at my house
for three months!!!

Kids doing chores = one very happy uncrafty mom.

One last sidenote:
At church the other day,
a teacher was explaining to me that
in his training he has learned
that you don’t want to divide and conquer your kids.
For example,
“Look at Bella, she is such a good cleaner.”

I am trying to figure out a way that I can
make this system
more of a Harry Potter style.
Where
everyone
gains
and
loses
together.
I am thinking that may
unify the girls
a little bit more.
Go Griffendor Gold Girls.

What’s your addiction?


So, as I have mentioned before I have been spending one night every week at a Codependent Support Group. It has been so eye-opening, supporting, and validating. The ladies range from being in physically abusive relationships to those who have had complete mental breakdowns. Many but not all have significant addicts in their lives in the form of a spouse or a child. The addicts are addicted to drugs, alcohol, sex, or they have personality disorders or just plain have character flaws that keep them from living normal lives.

We, the codependents, come to our meeting to get support on how we are supposed to deal with the chaos in our lives. We come to get support on acting like we know we should. We come to find our voice. Codependents are addicts too. We have everything very much in common with the people that society refers to as “the real addicts.” We come to our meeting to take responsibility for our part of the cycle. We come to recover from our own addictions, even if they are more socially acceptable.

The women in my group are all addicted to love, for that reason, they are also called codependent. You don’t know them, but I am sure you know somebody like them. It may even be you. You may be unaware that people like this can actually have an addiction too. Codependent people are self described as SuperHuman. They get it ALL done and more. They take care of everyone which means that they also attract needy people. They take self sacrifice to an all new level. Even though they are the ones that everyone goes to when they need something done, they are really a total mess, and should be the one seeking support, not dishing it out. They have no voice, except “do whatever it takes to keep the peace, to help people, and to stay loved.” They are totally unhealthy. Sometimes the people on the outside start to catch on to their problems. Why are they on their 20th loser boyfriend? Why do they stay with that man that beats the crap out of them? Why do they complain about so much yet do so little to change it? Why do they go crazy at the slightest turn of events? Why can’t they set boundaries?
This link was interesting to me this morning. It’s an article from Psychology Today about new thinking in regards to addicts. In the past we have all just thought that addicts were spiritually weak, or mentally ill, wired wrong, or maybe just given “the gene”. But, the more time that goes on, the more the experts realize that we are all addicts. Every single one of us. Humans have a mentally evolved reward system. We find things that make us feel good and we gravitate to those things. Some people choose exercise. Some people use food. Some have preferences for shopping, online gaming, pornography, tobacco, caffeine, alcohol, drugs, sex, or feeling loved by other people. So, you see, those of us who have in the past loved pointing fingers, are now stuck with only one option..turn that finger around, and evaluate yourself.
What is it that you are addicted to? Addictions can be rated at different levels of problematic. Your addiction may not be a problem because you have learned to control it. Everybody has something that attracts them. Some things are just more socially acceptable. We all put on the pedestal those people who have amazing bodies, but to look like that, they are probably more than likely addicted to exercise or body image, or both. Funny, that those model bodies have always been praised while the overweight have been ridiculed, and they really have the same problem deep down inside…addiction. One has chosen exercise and one has chosen junk food, but really it’s the same problem. They are looking for love in all the wrong places. Sorry I couldn’t resist using that lyric. They are both getting a mental feel good moment from whatever their choice of drug happens to be.
The thing we all hold in common is that we are each looking for things that reward our brain. Things that make you go OOOO. Things that make you go OOOOO. Some of us (OCD) find that fix in a clean house or an immaculate yard. Some prideful people are addicted to making their children perfect or at least having everyone think that they have a perfect little family. Many addicts are addicted to work. Again, one of those socially acceptable addictions. I think my kids are addicted to making messes. I don’t know how this makes them feel good, but it must because they do it all the time.
I love that of course, once again, my church was ahead of the game. Look here for the manual they put out on how to use the 12 steps to overcome addiction. They have a class at church once a week for addicts to attend. If they want help overcoming a weakness, they can use the class, the manual, and the 12 steps, to personally apply the atonement in their life and to let God help them overcome their addiction, no matter how socially acceptable. On the part of the person who wants to change, all that is required is the desire and commitment. Then when you seek out help, you will be given the tools to apply the grace of God and makes weak things strong.
The scriptures are true. The verses from the Bible that talk about moderation in all things were God’s way of telling us to bridle our passions, control the feeding rewards to our brains. We have to avoid our natural man telling us that we NEED the good feelings caused by our worldly passions. Get our rewards from God because there is one place where we can never have too much and that is God’s love.
Let go and let God. That’s what they teach in AA and it is gospel truth.

Codependence

Most people I know have no idea what codependence means. In fact, blogger does not even recognize the term. Here is the short definition from the wikipedia link:

Codependency or codependence is a tendency to behave in overly passive or excessively caretaking ways that negatively impact one’s relationships and quality of life. It also often involves putting one’s needs at a lower priority than others while being excessively preoccupied with the needs of others.

This post may not be really entertaining, as it is meant to be informative. I wish I would have heard of codependency a long time ago, as my recent study of codependency has made me an extremely healthier person. If you have known me for any length of time, you know codependent behavior. I fit the “controlling” part of codependency to a tee.
Control patterns:

  • I believe most other people are incapable of taking care of themselves.

  • I attempt to convince others of what they “should” think and how they “truly” feel.
  • I freely offer others advice and directions without being asked.
  • I lavish gifts and favors on those I care about.
  • I have to be “needed” in order to have a relationship with others.

Here is a little blossom analogy to help myself past trying to control. A few years back the girls and I were at my friend Valerie’s house. Her tree was full of gorgeous blooms. I lined my girls up for a great photo op. For over ten minutes, I kept telling them EXACTLY how to sit, look, and act. I got some good photos. It was so important to me to have that picture perfect photo. At the time, I wasn’t in touch with WHY this was so important to me. Through therapy I have finally discovered my need to be loved…part of that is my need to look perfect. I perpetuate that onto my family.

Aren’t they just about perfect? God has been good to me.


Well, after we were through with the torture session, the kids were free to be themselves again.

I kept shooting. They got into a blossom fight. It was so enjoyable to watch them have fun. It dawned on me that I had controlled them out of having fun for ten minutes. I was now getting BETTER photos with REAL expressions. And they were HAPPY. At that very moment, I realized that I was my own worst enemy. I had issues.

It was an ah-ha moment. I didn’t get to put a name to it until a year or so later. Codependency. Codependency has given me so much grief throughout my whole life. It has kept me from being happy so many times. It has also kept many of my loved ones from the happiness they deserve.
Codependents are people who need to be loved. Pure and simple. Many codependents are closely involved with addicts. I am not talking about the addicts in my life in this post. Maybe another time, but I am addressing my co-dependency. Why? Because people need to understand. Why not?
It is hard to know which comes first, a codependent or an addict. It is almost like that old riddle about the chicken or the egg. It is however easy to understand why codependents and addicts are attracted to each other like teenagers on Friday night. Addicts are a mess. Codependents are a mess. They feed off of each other. Codependents pick up all the pieces all the time. Addicts dish out all the problems. Codependents thrive on being needed because that makes them feel loved. Addicts need a codependent to help them to remain an addict. There is no one better to love or need a codependent more than a person with a bunch of problems.
Sometimes codependents create addicts. People get sick of being controlled and they rebel in form of addictions: alcoholism, abusiveness, sex addiction, gambling…they turn into addictions as a way of escaping the damage that their codependent loved one has etched into their sensitive soul.
I am working very hard at not being a codependent. I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be the one who needs to be needed. I don’t want to be the one who has to control. I also don’t want to enable others. Most assuredly, I don’t want to negatively impact the people around me, especially the people who I love the most.
I mostly don’t want to be the crazy witch that goes nuts when everyone and everything she has been trying to hold together falls apart. I don’t want to take responsibility for others’ actions. I want to take responsibility for my own.
I don’t want to need to be loved. I want to love myself. I want my love and God’s love to be enough because anything I get on top of that is like an amazing overtime paycheck. I don’t want to suck all the energy from everyone in my life because no matter how much they love me, it’s never enough.
I will not be codependent any more because I want to be whole. I don’t want to be broken.
And more than anything, I want my children to be able to live lives full of carefree fun. I don’t want them to have to worry about their old mom who needs them so badly. I want them to be able to make mistakes and know that it won’t destroy their mother. I want them to know that their mom is happy, confident, and healthy, and that they can rely on her.
I encourage you to go to the link at the top of this page. Read about codependency. Educate yourselves so that you can recognize bad patterns and stop them before you do irreparable damage to yourself, your spouse, or your children. I think everyone has codependency to one degree or another, so it wouldn’t hurt to learn about it. And, even if you aren’t a codependent, I am sure that you know one, or two, or twenty, and it will help you to understand and love them better to be more aware of their challenges.
And you gotta admit it, you know you love me even more after reading this post. Even if I don’t need you to love me any more.

Fear is the opposite of faith.
Matthew 8: 26 “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?”

When we have that kind of faith and trust in the Lord,
we have true security and serenity in our lives. ~ Oaks
Fear is the antithesis of faith. ~ Hinckley
Recently, a friend of mine revealed a new concept to me.
All humans are either driven by anger or fear.
Interestingly enough,
this is in direct correlation with our flight or fight modes.
If you fear, you want to flight.
Anger makes you want to fight.
I have been reading some evidential arguments
for fighting being a healthier reaction to terrorism.
In fact anger is a driving emotion.
It builds energy.
While fear is an energy draining emotion.
It creates digression.
No energy.
It made me think of this poem that I wrote.
I will choose the faith, not the threatening fear.
Observe the children at play and not their danger.
I will hear the laughter, not see the tear.
The love of a friend, not the threat of a stranger.

Life is not lived if we choose to retreat.
If all we see is wrong then we have failed our test.
Let us not all give up, stay home, be beat.
Choose to live and give and take from life the best.


It’s not my best work,
but nonetheless telling of my unchosen emotion.
I don’t like fear.
I am an anger girl for sure.
I’m not chiding on fear.
I get it.
Fearful people have their place in this world.
They are needed to balance out us angry folk.
But, what if we all tried to overcome
either our anger or our fear?
My husband is full of fear at times.
He has come to learn of it’s debilitating effects.
He is overcoming it.
I just asked him if he had fear conquering strategies.
“Only one”, he said.
“Fear is the opposite of faith. I am going to choose to have faith.”
I asked him how that translated into
conquering the fear in those moments
that seem to have nothing to do with faith.
You know, like, how does he find the courage
to fix that dishwasher when he has never done it before
and he’s afraid because he doesn’t know what he is doing?
What does that have to do with faith?
He didn’t answer.
My thought is that if we have faith in God,
he will give us faith in our own abilities.
So, back to the picture above.
Sophia hates to have her picture taken.
People trying to force her to get her picture taken
isn’t so good for the final shot.
I think we are like that.
We have to choose to have faith.
When we choose it, we open ourselves up to God.
And we will get the perfect final picture.
And then we can look straight into
the lensof whatever fear we have,
and smile.
Because we know that God is over all.
And even if that picture isn’t the way we wanted it to be.
Or even if we are getting a picture,
we never wanted at all.
It will be God’s will,
and that is all that matters.
Because he knows what is best for us.
And when we believe in Him,
we can have trust.
Perfect trust.
And then we will also have peace.
And interestingly enough.
I would say that peace is the opposite of anger.
Hmmm.

Book Review: A Million Little Pieces

A Million Little Pieces A Million Little Pieces by James Frey

My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I want to start this review out with the F word somehow because I probably read it at least a thousand times in this book. I kept telling myself I should quit because of the language and the questionable content but I was riveted as I was transported into a body that was experiencing detox and drug rehabilitation. I felt like every one of my 5 senses were awakened as this book was a chilling piece of fiction. I justified reading the questionable material because it was a part of the typical drug rehab center. The author did an amazing job of helping me to experience the touching, seeing, hearing, tasting, and smelling that druggies engage.

There is so much I could say about what I enjoyed about this book, but the ONLY real reason I kept reading was because I felt completely educated by each word found on the pages. I feel I can understand addicts of all kinds better now. I can love them better and judge them less. In fact, I found myself thinking of all the addicts I know and wishing I could give them a copy of this book. In the words of the author is found the precious key to combating addiction: getting in touch with your inner self and learning how to control your out of control emotions.

I know there is some controversy surrounding this book. In fact the librarian mentioned it when I checked the book out. She wouldn’t tell me WHAT exactly was the controversy, but I did glean some things during the course of reading the book. As I mentioned my reading it to friends, they said that the author James Frey had this book published as a piece of non-fiction, when it is very much fictional. I do have to say that it would be much more powerful if it was actually non-fiction, but the fact that it is untrue, does not completely rob the book in enlightening the reader about the workings of addiction. I plan to go and read everything I can about this controversy, but I wanted to write my review before I do, so that I won’t be tainted.

There were parts of the book that I didn’t like. I wish it could have been written with less offensive language; I don’t think it was absolutely necessary. I also don’t really agree with the author’s criticism of the 12 step program or his agnostic views. However, I did learn some things from the referenced Tao teachings and find those in sync with my religious views. I find myself adding the Tao book to my to read list. For some reason, A Million Little Pieces was a long read for me. I kept telling my husband that I didn’t know why it was taking me so long to get through it. I was interested and reading consistently, yet it still took me a good week and a half and I’m not really sure why.

Overall, I would recommend the book to anyone struggling with addiction or with an addict in their life. I would also refer it to anyone having an inner struggle learning about themselves. But, I would NEVER refer it to any of my Mormon friends, as they would probably suffer a heart attack from all the language.

View all my reviews >>

Mini Me

Recently my sister-in-law posted a status update on her facebook. She was so entertained because Bella had asked her Grammy to turn the radio down in the car to alleviate her headache. Grammy replied that if she would stop talking it would help her headache go away.

Bella’s response amused many other FB users that know me as well as Michelle.. “I can’t stop talking, I am just like my mom.”
I have taught my children to only speak truth. Sometimes it bites me in the butt.
Onto the serious part of the post. I wanted to write this down before I forgot.
There are three things that I have learned recently in therapy. They were key in helping me along my journey with codependency. They were BIG parts of the puzzle in teaching me to fight my codependent need to be loved.
1-I could not handle criticism.
All of these things came into play with my parenting today. You see, Bella is a mini-me, in almost every single way. She is not just my only brunette child, she is a codependent. She came that way. She has an insatiable need to be loved. It’s exhausting. God knows what he is doing because parenting her has been vital to my own healing.
Today I decided that it was time for me to share some of my therapy with Bella. If I didn’t learn about fighting my need to be loved until 37, how much better will it be for her to understand it earlier? Well, I pretty much botched trying to take my knowledge from my brain to Bella’s. There’s a reason that therapists are licensed and I am not. I found the story a little amusing.
Bella was throwing a jumbo sized fit because Abigail had wrongfully criticized her. Apologies had been made, but those of you with codependent experience know that an apology never equates the end. Bella couldn’t make herself let it go. She can’t handle criticism. Remember that was #1 from the above things I learned about myself. She was abandoned and she wanted us to know about it. She also wanted us to hurt because in her jumbled mind, us experiencing pain, makes her pain turn into a sad form of love. She started going on and on about how nobody loves her. She screamed at me that she always does things for me and I never do things for her. You have NO idea how horrible this is unless you have lived through it. And we have lived through it hundreds of times.
I caught my smirk before it surfaced as I finally understood what I had to do. Months ago I quit trying to coddle to the girl while she created her own hell and ours as well. In fact remembering this prior post, I am a little stunned that my love declaration had actually worked. It usually does not. Usually coddling or sympathizing makes things a million times worse. Today was the day to teach Bella about her love tank.
I happened to be making chocolate chip cookies. I told Bella that she would not get to play again until she was ready to have a talk with me. She took about an hour to come around. Just enough time for me to prep my discussion. We sat at the kitchen table.
I brought a pitcher of water, a glass, and a large spoonful of cookie dough. I made sure I had her full attention. As she watched me, I handed her the cookie dough. As I stretched out to her, I said, “As the first part of our talk, I just want you to know how much I love you. I am giving you this abundant amount of cookie dough just because I love you.”
She pushed it away. Actually, she whacked it out of my hand. Hmmm. At this moment I knew my assumptions are right. The kid needs to be loved, but just like her mom she is not good at receiving love. Remember that was #2 thing learned on my step to recovery. I said, “Oh, I am sorry, I guess you don’t want this. You must not want to know how much I love you.” She was still angry. I asked her if she wanted it, and in her “I don’t know what the heck I am feeling and why I am feeling this way” mood, she spit out, “No.” I give her one last chance, “O.k., that is fine, because it looks really good to me and I will eat it.” I put it up to my mouth and she snatched it out of my hand. So, she does want to be loved after all. Progress.
I then explained the theory of the love tank to Bella. I said to her that everyone has a love tank like this cup inside of them. It is what holds their love. People get their love tanks filled in many ways. They can fill it themselves, or they can get love from other people, or even their Father in Heaven or Jesus Christ. It can be filled when someone compliments them, or when they get a hug……etc. etc. Bella was intrigued. She started participating in the conversation, giving me ideas of how people feel loved. I then reminded her that I had just given her cookie dough and that it should add a few drops of love into her love tank. I also reminded her that she almost didn’t get that love because she so rudely swatted it out my hand.
So, we physically filled the tank, I mean the cup. Then, I said to Bella, “This next part is really important and I want you to understand this so that you can be happier. Bella, you are a lot like your mom and I didn’t learn this until this year and I wish I would have understood sooner.” “Bella, you and I, we have leaks in our love tanks.” Then, by her suggestion, we got out a plastic baggy and filled it. We cut off a corner and watched the love tank shrivel and die. I explained that because we have leaks in our love tanks, it stays shriveled up most of the time. When someone criticizes us, it hurts more than it does for other people because it’s not like them when they just get a scoop taken off the top, it’s like they take our shriveled tank and step all over it.
It got through to her because she immediately burst out in tears. “I don’t want a leak in my love tank!! Why do I have to have a leak in my love tank?” Yeah for me. It only took 10 minutes to successfully teach her item #3.
I said, “Don’t worry, you can fix it.”
Bella: “I don’t know how to fix it. I am going to have a broken love tank for forever.”
Me: “You can fix it. I’ve been fixing mine.”

Bella, crying in agony, “How?”
I then went on to explain that all she has to do are some really simple things. I got out some toothpicks. And demonstrated that she uses tools to stop her leak. At this point, I was glad she had gone back to sulking on the couch because I totally lied and told her that the toothpicks worked brilliantly at stopping the leak, when really they didn’t work at all.
I came up with four ideas for her. The first toothpick was that she should pray to her Heavenly Father to help her fix it. The second was to love herself. The third was to remember that people love her even if they correct her from time to time. And lastly, and most importantly, don’t forget that she has a leak and when she starts feeling sad, think about the love that leaked out.
So, needless to say, the kid now may not figure anything out for herself until she is past the age of 37 because I just completely screwed up a botched therapy session. But, I tried.
And because I am working on fixing my love tank, I am going to tell myself I did a great job, even if I didn’t.

Addicted to Love

“You might as well face it, you’re addicted to love.” The lyrics and music to the song keep ringing through my ears like a perched crow taunting the starving cat who waits and hopes. The cat forgets that he has a full bowl back at home. He also forgets that he really doesn’t like crow, but it’s his instinct to hunt and so the song goes on.

Just two months ago, I reached my breaking point in therapy. What was my final lesson? I’m addicted to love.
I haven’t quite figured out the real reason why I am addicted to love, but I get the concept and that is all that really matters.
As I learned in The Five Love Languages, we all have a love tank. Much like the water coolers shown here. Throughout our days, months, and years people fill our love coolers. Sometimes they fill them with Kool-Aid, or water, or maybe sometimes they attempt tea, even though you don’t drink tea. Many people have learned to fill their own water cooler and some people are so good at it, it’s as if their water cooler is located directly beneath a broken spigot.
Well, my spout has a leak. No matter what people fill me with, it has never been enough. In technical terms, I am a codependent. “Hi my name is Alice, and I am addicted to love.” This is a hard lesson to learn about oneself. Nobody wants to be broken. And more than anything I never wanted to be needy.
But, codependence is sneaky. While one is so busy keeping up the facade that they are strong and courageous, on the inside, their mind and emotional well-being is subconsciously in warfare. A co-dependent IS the person who takes care of everybody else. They won’t admit it, but their drive in caring for others is to somehow to gain approval and love. A co-dependent needs to be needed. Being needed somehow makes them relevant. As a lifelong codependent I have a really hard time even identifying my feelings at times because I have trained my mind to believe something that isn’t true. I have trained myself to think I am strong when really I am just this little wounded girl who needs extra attention. Well, guess what? It’s fine time I grew up. I don’t need extra attention and I also don’t need to be strong for everyone else.
The problem is that co-dependents don’t know it but they drain the people close to them. The people close to them get sick and tired of trying to meet a need that can’t be filled and they turn away. If the co-dependents loved one is not healthy or strong enough lots of times they will turn to an addiction. If you know an addict, trust me, you will soon come to know the co-dependents that surround them. Every addict needs an enabler. I can’t say that I blame them. I understand because my mother is also a co-dependent. In fact, I think my dad might be too. It is exhausting to try and give someone something that they really can only give them self.
The blogosphere is a great place for co-dependents. If you are addicted to your comments, you may want to ask yourself why.
So, every day of my life is now spent in trying to fight this insatiable need. I try to combat it in many ways. One, I try to love myself. Another thing that I have found essential is always self-talking. I use the phrase, “You don’t need to be loved”. I also catch myself doing silly things every day and I try to stop them.
I can NOT volunteer for a millionth thing this week. I can not fish for that compliment. I can be content NOT knowing every last detail about my spouse. I can laugh if they are talking bad about me. I can quit trying to be perfect. I can quit trying to make my husband and children perfect. I can admit that I have needs. I can try to make my needs healthy. I can quit clinging to people. In jest, I can let go.
I know I’ve got you thinking. I am happy to have this newfound knowledge about myself because I am happier then I have ever been. It’s o.k. that I’m addicted to love, as long as I am in recovery.
Let love go and if it doesn’t come back to you, it was never yours in the first place. If it does come back, hold on to it forever.

I AM BECAUSE


I want to start a revolution.

I want I AM_______BECAUSE_____ to become commonplace.
Forget “hello” or “how are you doing” or “I am fine”.
I want friends and family to start using I AM __________ BECAUSE _________ in our everyday interactions. Especially the people at my house.
Why? Because I need to know how people feel without reading their minds. I need for the people around me to identify their feelings because I love them and I want them to be happy. And we can’t turn our frowns upside down if we don’t acknowledge that we are walking around with a frown in the first place. We also can’t rejoice together if nobody ever communicates their triumphs or happiness.
So, I will go first. And then you can try. My goal is to have slightly more positive things to say than negative. Because I am a realist and I am not ready to completely ignore the negative quite yet.
I AM proud of this “I am” idea BECAUSE it is simple and I think in all it’s simplicity, it could make a profound impact on the amount of therapy my family needs.
I AM Alice Gold BECAUSE I married LeGrand Gold and I couldn’t wait to take his name.
I AM not going to be buying any Arbonne from Sarah BECAUSE I cannot afford it.
I AM somewhat frustrated today BECAUSE no matter how much things change, so many things stay the same, especially the ones I want changed.
I AM grateful for my friends BECAUSE they put up with my tendency to overshare, but I stand by my philosophy that it is better to overshare than undershare.
I AM worried BECAUSE my 5th grader is going to middle school next year and those kids at orientation today were looking kind of scary.
I AM hoping for a break from my baby BECAUSE I am over it today.
I AM mostly happy BECAUSE I am trying really hard to look for the positive.
I AM ignoring life with this blog post BECAUSE I am trying to avoid the things that make me feel crazy, depressed, or unloved.