Mike Runner is our Sunday Guest Contributor, and he brings a perspective to Wings Like Eagles that is unique and challenging.
I normally cover topics relating to the horror of having someone else bring darkness into the home. Mike covers the same topics, but from a completely different angle. He was the one who brought darkness to his family. Mike is an alcoholic.
It is my hope that the perception of what we think we know about Family Crisis is shaken up a bit. Because there is far more involved than we think. Much can be understood by examining the other side, and I deeply appreciate Mike's willingness to help us gain understanding as he shares with us the mind as it is affected by alcoholism.
He isn't just an alcoholic. He is an intelligent mind, has a bright, hopeful future, and he is my friend. And this is his story.
I am now proudly wearing my black ankle bracelet. Big Brother is watching my foot. I can be out from 7am until 7pm on weekdays,
from 12pm until 6pm on Saturday, and from 9am until 5pm on Sunday. I’m fine with that and it sure beats working
off the side of a freeway in an orange jumpsuit all weekend.
My fellow contributor, Tracey Anne Halberg, wrote what I
consider to be a very important column last week. If you have not read it, I suggest you do
so. It deals with the issue of people
telling us to just get over it.
I bring it up because the biggest culprit screaming "Just get over
it!" in my life has always been me. For
most of my life, at times when I was upset or depressed, I would tell myself to
just get over it. “You have no reason to
feel this way,” “I have everything going for me,” “I have great kids and a
great family,” “I have a good job when so many people don’t even have a job,” “stop
feeling sorry for yourself,” “knock off the pity party,” “Half the world is
starving so you shouldn’t complain,” etc.
This type of thinking would lead me to stuffing feelings, putting on
masks, and not letting myself feel how I felt.
Not dealing with feelings, not knowing how to deal with feelings, definitely played into my drinking because drinking made the unwanted feelings
go away.
So, I am reporting to my readers that this week, I have been a
bit depressed. I’m not quite
sure why, it just happens now and then.
I’m a tad bipolar and I also let anxiety build up in me at times.
In recovery I have learned that feeling
depressed or upset is OK. We begin to
learn to deal with all sorts of feelings that we didn’t like to deal with in
the past. I don’t have to tell myself
that I have no right to feel a certain way anymore… I feel as I feel. Honestly, it has been a relief. I tell myself “This too shall pass,” and it
always does, so I just let myself go with it.
It doesn’t mean that I have been moping around all week, it just means
that I am telling myself it is OK to feel this way and I continue about my
life.
That being said, I have learned a few tricks that have
helped me immensely. I have already
mentioned the first one, simply telling myself it is OK to feel the way I feel, and know that it will pass. Another one I have
learned is to step out of myself and visualize that I am looking down on myself, asking, “What is going on with Mike?”
It sounds odd, but it is a way that I take a step back and do a self
check. Sometimes I am too far into
myself to clearly see what is going on.
I
have also learned that when we are depressed, our physiology changes which
leads to deeper depression. We don’t smile,
our shoulders slump, our movements tend to be slower as well as other
things.
Try these two things the next
time you are depressed: 1) Stand up as straight as you can, shoulders
back, tilt your head back and look at the ceiling and smile as big as you can
for about one minute. Strangely it is
very hard to be depressed when you are doing this, your physiology won’t allow
it. 2) This is a fun one. While driving, make yourself laugh as hard as you possibly can for two
minutes. I mean laugh crazy. Eventually the laughter will no longer be
forced and you will find yourself laughing and feeling completely silly in a
good way. It’s fun to watch other drivers' reactions. It is also fun to do this
with others. I used to do this with my
kids on the way to school and we had a blast.
People would look at us like we were utterly insane which would make us
laugh harder. My kids would then go to
school in great moods and I would still be laughing while I was driving to
work. Tools I have learned along the
way.
I wanted to mention this quickly because, as I have said
before, life is not always perfect now that I am sober, but now that I am sober, I am able to deal
with life. I don’t have to hide from it
anymore. I talk about and deal with my
life as it happens, or else I risk stuffing emotions which will eventually come
out one way or another. One way it could
come out is the bottle and that is no longer a luxury that I have. I know where
it will take me.
I have finally become
willing to listen to tips and tricks from others who have “made it” before me,
although I think I came up with the laughing one on my own. I never really listened before because I
always wanted to figure things out myself.
I always was trying to recreate the wheel which always ended up falling
off the axle. So I have been a little
down, but that’s just fine.
The least interesting thing about the jail process is
actually being in the jail dorm. Boring
is an understatement. You sleep, you
eat, you line up various times during the day so that the rude deputy can count
the prisoners, you get yelled at over the loudspeaker, sit in your bunk, take a
shower, maybe play a game of cards or dominoes, and that is your day, every
day. I was able to cope with it because
I made it my mission to help some of the younger guys and talk life, God and
sobriety.
One poor guy came in and
announced to us that he didn’t want to be talked to, and never left his bed
other than to eat or use the restroom.
I felt sorry for him. His days
must have lasted forever. There was
another man who came in, and could not leave his bed for three days because he
was shaking, twitching and sweating profusely.
He didn’t sleep at all for the first three days. He was coming down from crystal meth and I
felt sorry for him as well.
As would be expected, I got a lot of “don’t drop the soap,”
jokes before I went in. My poor Mom was
worried that I might get sexually assaulted.
In reality, there was nothing even remotely like that though there were
plenty of jokes about it in jail as well.
Jail humor is rather crude to say the least. There is so much racism in a humorous way
that no one is offended. In a weird way,
there was racial talk all of the time but no real racism.
There was a particularly grumpy older man in
14A. As he took a shower one day, a
couple of my friends did jump in with him and say “We’re ready!” which was
actually very funny. After cussing them
out, even the grumpy old guy was laughing.
Humor is good in jail because there is not a whole lot else to keep
people going. Depression and
hopelessness come naturally.
There are a number of things about jail that I didn’t care
for but two stand out in particular. I was
guilty. I deserved to be there and took
responsibility. There is no concept of innocent until proven guilty in
jail. At least half of the people that I
was in with had been accused of a crime but not convicted. They just didn’t have the money to make bail. Some of them I believe were innocent and some
guilty. A friend of mine had been in 14A
for three months and his bail was only $50,000.
A bail bond would have cost him $5,000 which he just couldn’t come up
with.
I found it sad that the deputies
didn’t even know who had been convicted, and who had only been accused of
something. The people who had not been
proven guilty were treated just as badly as the rest of us. This was disappointing to me as it mainly affected
people who had little or no money. I
believe that people who have not been proven guilty should be in different cells
and treated with more respect and dignity than they were in 14A. Treating people with respect and dignity was
not high on the deputies’ list of priorities.
I am on a couple of medications that you are not
supposed to stop suddenly, and it is best to taper off them, than go cold
turkey. By the night of day 3, my mind
was racing terribly and my body was shaking just a bit. That night my mind was racing so badly that I
couldn’t sleep and was just lying in bed saying, “Help me, God,” and “Help me
help others,” over and over.
I went in
with a letter from my psychiatrist saying this was very important, and I gave
them medical forms daily. They finally
got around to me on day four. I was told
by others that this was typical and that they had seen many people have
seizures or even a stroke because they were not given their medications soon
enough. I filled out a little emergency
medical paper every day saying how important my medication was. You don’t know where the paper goes or who
to ask. The deputies just shrug.
Next week: Jail People and How I Tried to Help Them.
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