Silence of the children...

Most of the people who contact me are spouses of an alcoholic. But the alcoholic family extends far beyond the wife or husband. The children of the couple become damaged just as much as the spouse. A blog follower contacted me about her son’s acting out. She was in tears because she didn’t know or understand what the problem his adolescent mind was addressing.

Way, way back when Riley was in his very first ever rehab center – a Navy mandated and operated facility – I was fortunate
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A place called "denial"

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There is a place I want to visit. It’s Denial Bay, South Australia. It’s really just a fishing and tourist village on the western side of Murat Bay about 350 miles from Adelaide. This bay and village was named from the “deceptive hope [they] had formed penetrating by it some distance into the interior of the country.” In other words it was suspected that the bay would provide an entry into the interior regions of the country, but instead was simply a bay and not an entrance. Denial Bay is now a stop for tourists who wish to enjoy a change of scenery from the salt bushes. It doesn’t sound like such a bad place to visit. It doesn’t conjure up visions of doom that the phrase “floating up the river of Denial” seems to generate. Let’s take a look at the word “denial”. It can be a verb deriving from the word “deny” or it can be a noun indicating a place called “Denial.” In this case, the real place of Denial Bay and the fictional river of Denial. I think the word “denial” has gotten a bad ra...
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A bowl of cherries...

  Since Riley’s death, I’ve had a hard time focusing on a single goal. I call it “floundering.” There are lots of things than need my attention, but I can’t seem to do one thing to completion, but rather switch back and forth, back and forth. I wake up in the morning and say to myself… “Self, you will do something today that is positive and will set the course for more positive things. Today you will complete just ONE thing.” Self listens to me – for about half a nano-second. Then it’s a little of this and a little of that. Back and forth… back and forth. Back in the day, when Riley went to rehab, and there were lots of those times, I would sit in the empty, quiet house and think about all the things I needed to do. I made a mental list. Followed by a written list. Followed by organizing and categorizing the list thereby creating more lists. I would hold the list in my hand, smooth it out on the desktop, fold it into fourths, turn it over, unfold it, then tell myself I would start ...
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Are you playing the Hero? Part Three

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