Waste in worry

A day full of errands and meetings has me tired this evening.  I went to the noon meeting, met my local sponsor for lunch, worked out doing interval training, got clothes to the nursing home, had a sailing club meeting tonight and am finally getting a few moments of quiet.

Tomorrow we are going on the boat for the weekend.  A good friend of mine has offered to visit the father-in-law at the nursing home and chat with him.  He still does not want to see either me or his daughter.  But it isn't right for him to be left all alone in a strange new place.  This friend likes to listen to stories about the war, and he is patient.  He thought that it would be good for him to visit the old man and keep an eye on him, take him some snacks and just chat.

I am ready for some "blank" time in which I listen to the waves hitting the hull and feel the gentle rocking of the boat, not thinking of anything really.  The past week has been a trying one.  I am looking forward to escaping for a few days.  It's amazing how easy it is to get an attitude adjustment by being on the boat.

Today's meeting topic was on worry.  God knows I have done my share of that.  The worry was more like an anxiety that truly was a symptom of just how unmanageable my life was.

I inherited the worry gene from my parents who were telling me all kinds of things to watch out for--mostly people who were going to screw me in some way.  So much negativism creates anxiety.

I can remember worrying about money, grades, relationships, parents, work projects, animals--so much time spent worrying about things that I really had no control over.  I would put together lists of things to get done and then worry that the lists weren't inclusive enough.  It was sheer insanity.

Some time before coming into Al-Anon, when I was at my worst in terms of unhappiness,  I quit caring about the lists and worrying about what might happen in the future.  I didn't know about the idea of One Day at A Time then.  But I had gotten to the point that I didn't much care what happened today or tomorrow.

Not I know that worrying doesn't help anything go smoothly or get better.  It doesn't help me get things done or have a better day.  In fact, it pretty much ruins the day.  I can't explain the change in me, other than to say that I have been able to let go of outcomes and have come to a place of accepting what happens.  And somehow that is enough to switch off the worry gene most of the time.

I'm going to keep the worry at bay for the rest of this day.  I'm too tired to be worried about anything.  Tomorrow isn't here yet.  Who knows what it will bring?  I'm not going to worry about it.

Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.  ~Leo Buscaglia

What money can't buy

Today, my father-in-law is supposed to be discharged from the hospital.  He is going to a nursing home where he will have a private room.  None of us, including the doctors and social worker, think that he should come home.  This is reality, but it is still difficult.

Yesterday, we put together clothes for him.  The clothes included the new ones that he got for Christmas.  It was just a little over a month ago that he was here, opening his presents, having a good meal, and sharing Christmas with us.  He seemed happy.  We added his new robe to the pile of clothes--the one that he got for his birthday on January 15.  Something happened between the time we gave him these things and now.

I talked to a lady after the meeting last night.  She said that her father went crazy after recent surgery, hitting his son, spitting on her, screaming and throwing things.  He is now in restraints and is wearing a face mask at a local hospital.  She said, "This isn't my dad. What happened?".  I don't know really.  What I think is that parts of the brain are dying, and the circuitry that is left isn't really enough to sustain what used to be a sociable person.

I have learned that money talks in all of this. It is all about money.  The nursing home manager wanted to know whether there was enough money for him to have a private room and for his wife to have her 24 hour a day caregivers at home.  Is this something that is any of her business?  I don't know.  I simply said "Yes.".  She was sure there was a great room for him then.

The bank manager was suspicious of my wife when she went to inquire about how much her dad had withdrawn when he escaped with the car the other afternoon.  She was told that he did not want her to have access to any of his accounts.  C. said she felt like a criminal but bravely produced the durable POA.  The bank manager then asked her a lot of questions about what happened and how he seemed so nice the other afternoon, just before he came home and went crazy.  None of her business, but C. answered as best she could: "I don't know really. He just went berserk. Maybe dementia or Alzheimer's. We don't know."

We left the bank knowing that we had to find the money he withdrew and deposit it back in the bank.  Eventually, we found it--a fat stack of $100 dollar bills.  What was he planning to do with it?  It was enough to pay for one month in the nursing home or go on a nice cruise to the Mediterranean.  I don't know.

There is so much that we don't know right now.  What we do know is that he will be in a safe place, have a nice room, be well taken care of, have clothes and food.  But he won't be with his family.  Money can't buy that.

Quieting my head

I've been doing my best to catch up on blog posts.  I still have a long way to go on that but am getting there.  I'm glad that you write a lot because blogs have become a way of gaining knowledge and growth in my program of recovery. And the comments you make help me as well.

I was reading a comment from Mark (The Walking Man) who asked if I ever quiet my mind.  I can do that when I am at peace within.  In fact, a quiet mind is my usual state on the boat.  Sometimes, my mind is so quiet that it is blank--I'm not thinking about anything really.

At first, I wasn't sure that having a blankness was good.   I have been an analytical person all my life.  I was paid to think and analyze.  When the world pushes too hard at me,  I look for a solution.  Most of the time, I don't find one.  But I like the idea of thinking in terms of solutions and not about all that is wrong or problematic.

I don't like to have the wheels going in my head all the time though.  I believe that there is some action on my part that I can do, even if just to observe a situation and learn from it.  After that, I leave things alone and let others be.  I do think that things will work out the way that they are supposed to without my trying to orchestrate them to my liking.  And if my mind isn't necessarily quiet at times, at least I am making consistent efforts at keeping my mouth quiet.

I am still struck by reacting, especially when I am confronted by ignorance, hatred, bigotry, unfairness, and toxic behavior.  I want to reason with those who are unreasonable.  And it doesn't work most of the time.  As an example, it is rare anymore to have a civil discussion about politics.   Engaging in a political discussion is the quickest way that I know to lose quietness of the mind. I either say nothing when the accusations start flying or walk away--most of the time.

I do believe that some of us are born to live inside of our heads.  I was one of those who thinks a lot.  But I also know that it's good for me to talk or write about what I think.  That has been a big improvement for me--to not keep everything bottled up inside or to ruminate over and over on something.  Processing events takes time.  Eventually,  I let go and get back to having quietness and stillness.  Ebbs and flows.  Ebbs and flows.  Light and dark. Quiet.

Be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign

that you’ve died.

Your old life was a frantic running

from silence.

The speechless full moon  

comes out now.

- Rumi

What I Needed

We decided on the spur of the moment to drive to the AA conference in Hilton Head. I am so glad that we went. We heard some wonderful speakers yesterday. They provided humor and inspiration. I came away feeling that I had been exactly where I needed to be. After the last week, it was time to surround ourselves with those who could offer their solution to difficult situations.

As we were driving back last evening, we talked about our resolve to make sure both parents have what they need. Neither of us is happy that they may have to live separately for a while. But until we know that Mom won't be verbally abused, we are going to keep them apart, except for visiting.

I want this to be over. I want my wife to feel good again. I want the family unit to be together. But I realize that this isn't up to me. I cannot make things be okay. We simply will work through all this stuff as best we can. Things change so quickly. Others live with horrible situations every day. That doesn't comfort me. But I am grateful that we have a fellowship from which we do draw comfort. We are able to get what we need from the collective strength of so many.

A brand new day

Over the last 24 hours, I have come to a much better place in my head--a place of forgiveness for me and for my father-in-law.  I talked to my sponsor,  I talked to my Higher Power, I read your comments and emails.  TAAAF over at Through an Al-Anon Filter wrote the following to me:

"I've been in that place of being appalled at my own "reptilian reaction" and it was excruciating; I'd really thought I was getting somewhere in my recovery.

I'm grateful for my first sponsor, who reiterated enough times for me to hear her, that I was only human, and the reason we have Step 10 is because we are going to continue to be wrong. No way around it. We may have only a few years in 12-Step, we may have 25, but we are going to screw up. Regularly. At times, spectacularly.

 

When we lose control, we may feel shame, or unworthy, embarrassed, humiliated, depressed. Perhaps we begin to wonder whether our perceived recovery is all a smoke screen we're hiding behind, and we haven't really changed at all - all perfectly normal responses to that rush of rage, and however we acted while in its grip.

 

You're a good man who loves his mate, and she was being threatened - that bypasses all the civilized veneers, and taps into the primal self.

 

Examine it, take your own inventory, make an amend however you choose to do so, and after discussion with your sponsor, then move on. You are not one scrap less of a wonderful loving and good-hearted man now, than you were the second before your response. You're the very same man, who has learned something new about himself."

 

Yes, I have learned something about myself, although I knew the survival and self-defense mechanisms were there already.  Another comment led me to read about elder rage (thank you, Lena, for suggesting the book--it has been ordered).  I have a much better understanding of the Jekyll and Hyde personality changes that we have been seeing.  Hopefully, more will be revealed from evaluations by geriatric psychiatrists and the internal medicine doctors.

I do have flashbacks of what happened.  I am forcing the images out of my head, but they aren't gone. And I am grieving the change in, and perhaps loss of,  a relationship that I have had for a long time.  But I am not blaming myself.  My wife feels better as well, after reading your comments and information about elder rage.  Neither of us has experience in dealing with a situation like this.  We are learning, have the legal system backing us, have talked with DSS, and know that we are doing the best that we can to protect both of the parents and keep them comfortable.

The best thing is that my mother-in-law was playing cards and listening to jazz yesterday.  She was happy and having a good day in her little world.  No one was yelling at her.  We each deserve peace in our lives no matter how it is achieved.

A chasm of rage

The fissure of the tentative rock that sort of held us together as some sort of cordial family unit has become a broad chasm.  All attempts at civility and kindness have been replaced by anger and full out rage.

We spent all of last night in the ER with both in-laws. She was in because she fell in a melee of anger.  He is there for a psych evaluation and an attempt to stabilize his mood.  It was one of the worst nights that I have spent in a long time.   My father-in-law wants nothing to do with his daughter or with me.  We are dead to him at the moment.  All the seething rage that could be brought forth was spewed on us.  And there was also spewing back.  I feel sick and sad.

Right now, I don't know what my amends will be.  When he shoved and screamed at his own daughter, it was too much for me.  Enough said.  I am out of his life.  After all these years, it has come to this.  And his daughter, my wife, has also been ex-communicated, rubbed out, and hollowed out by all of this.

I have much processing of my reaction to do.  I am appalled at my own reptilian reaction.  That being said, I am somewhat relieved to no longer be a part of some tragic play where people are pretending that there is no elephant in the room.  Right now, all is calm because the elephant is in restraints.  Yet the echo of his rage is still ringing in my ears.

Time for some merciful sleep.

Sit close to the fire

Last night, we had a nice fire on the beach. The nights have been cool so it felt good to sit near warmth after a long walk on the beach. We sat for a few hours until after dark, watching the flames flicker and lick at the driftwood. Too soon, it was time to leave.

This morning, we were up early to make our way back to the marina. I could have stayed out another two weeks. It is one of the most peaceful feelings in the world, and it was over too soon.

We stopped by to see the parents on the way home. My father-in-law was being ugly again. My wife was talking to him and he exploded, telling her to get out of the house, and saying that he didn't need anyone helping him. He said so many ugly things to her. They were screaming at each other.

Now, C. feels bad for losing it with her dad. I was angry but stayed out of it. I could not see how further angry words would help. What I want to do is give him a wide berth and let him think about what he has done. He is effectively driving everyone away. His wife is afraid of him. And now his daughter wants nothing to do with him.

I think it's best to wait, see what happens, and adopt an attitude of compassion. He is sick. Perhaps the doctor will prescribe something that will take the edge off his anger.  For now, I am not going to stand too close to his fire.

PS: Pop took the keys, drove off in the car, saying that he was going to "ride into the sunset".  We alerted the police because no one knew where he was.  He eventually came home around 6 PM.  The police went to the door, but he wouldn't let them in.  

He doesn't have dementia--his mind is sharp and his memory is excellent.  There is no cerebral event.  Nothing remarkable has happened except an explosion of anger.  He has a terrible disposition and has had one for most of his life according to his siblings and C.  I believe that things are not going the way that he likes because he is getting old. And he isn't getting old in a gentle way.  Perhaps this is simply too much to write about.  But it is what it is.  

Another beautiful day

We awoke to a foggy morning. I couldn't see the shore. It was eerily beautiful. And so quiet, with only the distant sound of the surf.

We eventually rowed to shore, walked on the beach and had a nice warm fire. Of course, I could not help but think about my old dog who would usually be right here next to the fire. Part of her ashes will be placed at the camp site. She will join a lot of other souls on this island that was the site of a ferocious battle during the Civil War.

We are enjoying this time on the boat. I included photos of what it looked like today. So much gratitude for our life, our love, and our recovery.

Sunday peace

Yesterday, we had a nice lunch at a local restaurant and then headed out on the boat.  It was a blustery day, overcast and threatening to rain.  By the time we got to the anchorage,  it was dark. Then a bad thunderstorm hit, but we were already anchored and having some tomato basil soup for dinner. 

It's still blustery today. We slept in this morning and enjoyed the sound of rain coming down on the cabin top. We have just finished breakfast. This is incredibly relaxing, being here on the boat and being away for a few days. 

I know that this is a brief geographic cure, but it is much appreciated. Soon enough, it will be time to get back. But for now, we are going to read, watch a couple of movies, and go for walks on the beach.  

I will be reading blogs as you provide my recovery readings each day.  Job changes, dealing with sons and daughters who are out there or having troubles, dealing with relationships with alcoholics, dealing with life--I learn from each of you. There are no formal meetings out here, but I have you. Thanks!