Celebrating

I'm celebrating 20 days sober today, and I don't feel as if I can tell most of the people in my life right now.

God Shall Set You Free

Image Source: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/Can-Auschwitz-Be-Saved.html

Ever since I was a little girl, even before I knew of a Holocaust, I have had dreams of arriving in a concentration camp. These weren't just dreams, they were terrifying nightmares. I didn't know how to explain or share about them when I was so young; I just didn't have the words to speak of the atrocities I should have known nothing about. For years, I have been haunted by these dreams. Not just because of the crimes being committed, but because I was witnessing myself living through it. 

There were three types of dreams. There were the ones where I was arriving to the camp on a train, the ones where I was watching people arrive on a train (kind of like I was floating above it all), and the ones where I watched myself arrive at the camp while still experiencing everything as if I were arriving (some sort of out of body experience where I hadn't left my body completely, perhaps?). Anyway, the dual experience ones have been the most common over the years, and also the scariest. The out of body dreams usually come with a form of omnipotence. It's like I know what is happening to me before it happens, and with the DE dreams, I experience it twice. 

Now, I have never been to a concentration camp myself. The first time I can recall reading anything about WWII was when I discovered the American Girl books, specifically the Molly books. But the dreams started years before that. I don't believe in reincarnation, so I don't believe that it is possible for me to be dreaming of things that happened in a past life. I do know that the dreams became much more vivid and graphic after going to the Holocaust museum in Washington, D.C. when I was 13. 

On that trip there were only a few things that stuck with me, other than my intense desire to move through the museum as quickly as possible. Honestly, I believe that I spent more time hiding in the bathroom than I did touring the museum. Some of the images that I carry with me from that trip include:

I literally ran through this part:

Both of these photos are from the website: http://www.ushmm.org

While I have experienced periods of haunting Holocaust dreams throughout my teens and twenties, they have returned in full force recently. We (another teacher and I, along with 10 of our students and several parents) went on a field trip to the Holocaust museum in Skokie, IL about three weeks ago, and it seems to have triggered this latest series of dreams. This time the visit was different. This time the dreams are different now too. 

Always before, the dreams have left me exhausted and terrified.This time, I have a sense of peace. I know that sounds weird, based on the graphic content which I see before me. Yet, somehow, I am at peace. I am undeniably certain that the Holocaust (and other genocides, both before and after) are not a part of God's will, but that the human desire that produced such evils is evidence of the free will that we all possess. I am still angered by the crimes against humanity that were committed, but I know that healing is possible.

I knew that I had found peace in these dreams when I was at the museum in Skokie. It was in the rail car that they have as one part of their permanent exhibits. While many of my students (and their parents) were immediately stating that they didn't like it in there and complaining that they were becoming claustrophobic with just our small group, I felt the urge just "sit and be." I've dreamt of being in rail cars just like this one probably dozens of times, but I've never had this peace before. Instead of wishing to race on like the others, I wanted desperately to sit down and pray. To pray for those who had lived through this, that they might find healing. To pray for those who would come after us, that they might remember the history. To pray for those who hate, that their hearts might be warmed by the love of God. I even wanted to pray that as God heals the lives of those who survived such atrocities, that he would heal my heart of the injustices I have witnessed and committed. 

As these dreams continue, there is sadness in my heart for the amount of lives lost.There is hope that the next generation will continue to talk about these events, so that they are not forgotten and cannot be denied. There is outrage that someone could be so cruel to a friend or a neighbor. But again, there is peace that God will never abandon His children. 

Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic

How many of us have heard the phrase from Alcoholics Anonymous "Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic." I know that many people believe that this is true, that there is no way around it, that it is just a fact. I hesitate to subscribe to that ideology, because I find no hope in it. Why would I want to place my trust in something that leads me to believe that the feelings I experienced in my early sobriety were going to always be with me. Those were brutal days, and I don't want to relive them forever.

I believe that there is the possibility that there is such a thing as a recovered alcoholic. I understand that for some, the best possible outcome is long term sobriety. But for some of us, I believe that there is something more. The possibility of being capable of drinking socially, not to excess, but a glass or two of our favorite libation.

These are thoughts that I started writing back in April, when I was reasonably happy with my life. Unfortunately, I was angry in my sobriety. I wanted to be "normal." I wanted to be able to be "like everyone else" and able to stop at one drink. I didn't want my husband to become upset with me because I had a drink when I was out with friends. I didn't want to deal with all of the drama that went along with an alcoholic who was attempting to drink in moderation again. Eventually, this reached a breaking point.

I surrendered to my addiction. This isn't a pretty concept, as I well know. When I am allowing God to be in control, I am much happier. I don't have to struggle with the anger that I'm not supposed to drink because I had a problem with alcohol. The guilt that comes with feeling as though I've failed everyone around me, everyone who believed in me, is enough to drive me deeper into the bottle. I wish that I could go back so many years and undo the pain and suffering that I caused everyone in my life.

This time, when I gave into the alcohol, it almost killed me. I'm not being dramatic, either. I've got issues with my blood sugar. When I drink, it goes too high. I'm not an insulin dependent diabetic at this point in my life, and because I'm diet controlled, not medicated, there isn't much I can do except wait for it to come back down. While uncomfortable, that wasn't enough to put me into the hospital. It was the after effects that were the worst. I've been known to describe withdrawal as a bitch in the past, but this was like nothing I have ever gone through before. The first week, my guilt made it hard for me to sleep well. Crying myself to sleep from the pain of not sedating my emotions was brutal. But the second week was even worse. I still wasn't sleeping well, and on top of it was the extreme migraine that lasted nearly 4 days. My head hurt from crying, I was congested from crying myself to sleep, and my sugar kept falling because I couldn't keep anything in my stomach for several days because my head hurt so badly. Eventually, I resorted to my emergency glucose, because it dissolves so fast. But every time my sugar dropped again, my head would hurt worse, increasing the nausea. I've never been so scared of the withdrawal before.

I know that there are diabetics who can drink, and I know that there are alcoholics who are diabetic. But I can't see myself ever wanting to live through the last week again. Today, I'm 16 days sober. My stomach is still a bit tender from all of the vomiting. My emotions are out of whack from drinking them numb. The anxiety is ridiculous. Yet, I still hear the Siren's song calling me back to the bottle. It is only through the power of God that I know I can maintain my sobriety and find the healing that I am in such desperate need of.

Odd mood

Today is one of those days where I struggle just to keep going. I'm not suicidal, and I'm not interested in cutting at the moment, for those who have journeyed alongside me through those terrible days before. I do just want to crawl into bed and sleep for days. I've had yet another day where I want to drink before I've even managed to walk out the door. The biggest incentive to get out of bed is the thought of a cigarette, because I'm still trying to hide my smoking.

I know that I have people in my corner, but sometimes it just doesn't feel like enough. I'm dealing with some serious issues from my past, and in this moment, crawling into a bottle of Jack, Jim, or Jose feels a lot safer. A cigarette is simply a way to take the edge off of things. 

I know that I'm not supposed to want these things. I realize that God is the answer. But that doesn't make life any more comfortable in this moment. I wish that God felt close, I really do. I feel really removed from God right now. 

I got brave enough to talk to a couple of friends last night, and they are trying to help me through this. I'm also hoping to complete part of the challenge I was given by talking to my pastor tonight.