A Short Whine

One of the things they don't warn you about when you decide to quit your job and go freelance is that all people hear when you tell them that is, "I quit my job." In their imagination, you are retired and you now spend your days watching soap operas and surfing the internet.

They also think that you have no schedule or time constraints. While that is true to a certain extent in my case, what I do have to do is block out a certain amount of time every single day, including weekends, for either writing or research, or both. If it's research, I often have dozens of facts I'm tracking down, clues to follow up, and documentation to write. If I stop to run an errand or answer a social call, I can lose the trail. It sometimes takes as much time to pick it back up again as it did to find it in the first place. If it's writing, I may be in the process of typing out the best work I've ever done. (Hey, it could happen!) But a quick trip to the store can erase every word that was bubbling out of my brain as fast as I could type.

What's probably worse is that I have to battle my own, very short, attention span. I can start the day at the keyboard, firmly resolved to do whatever work is at hand, when suddenly I remember I need to shop for a good price on a flight, like I did this morning. I found a good price, but I had to sacrifice an hour of writing time to do it. For a person who frequently gets distracted just putting on her socks, this is a challenge. I'm working on staying on task, but it's entirely self-driven. When I was working for the man, the job at hand usually drove me in an orderly way. Now I'm working for my...ooh, shiny!

I know this post probably sounds like a big, whiny complaint. It definitely falls into the category of first-world problems of a very lucky sort. I am vastly, overwhelmingly grateful for this opportunity to carve out the life I've always wanted to live. I'm also very blessed to have wonderful people in my life to talk to and care for. Mostly, I'm writing this to myself as a reminder that I'm not a lady of leisure. If anything, I'm much busier now than I ever was when I had a regular job to use as an excuse not to do things.

There's a certain learning curve when it comes to acquiring the self-discipline to be regularly productive on one's own, and I'm still smack in the middle of it. I have to learn how to say, "No, not now, I'm writing," and schedule interruptions around that time, just as I would if I had a regular job. I also have to tell myself that. As I've been writing this, I've thought of at least ten other things I could do right this minute instead of what I'm doing. It's often all I can do to keep my butt firmly planted in this chair and my browser firmly planted in this window.

That whine dispensed with, my glamorous life has me back home from a very productive research trip for www.findinghenry.com. There really is some glamor in my life, since I got to go to Florida last week. Now I just need to decide if I'm going to dive straight into organizing the research and getting another post written, or finding the motorcycle jack and building a yellow submarine (yes, really!). Decisions, decisions...ooh, shiny!

Meeting Henry

I often joke about my "glamorous" life as a freelancer, hence the subtitle to this blog. But, today, my life is just a little bit glamorous, or it will be tomorrow. Tomorrow we go off on vacation, because nothing says "starting a new job" like immediately going on vacation.

Likewise, nothing says "starting a new blog" like starting a different new blog, but that's exactly what I'm going to do. This morning, while diddling around on the internet, interspersed with various glamorous pre-trip preparations, I was struck by a bolt of inspiration. This doesn't happen to me very often, so when it does, I need to jump on it. Most of my writing is a product of forced labor, and I'm not much of a task-mistress.

I love inspiration, because the minute it strikes, I can see all the preparation my mind went through leading up to the moment when inspiration dawned on me. Some people call this an "aha moment" because all the signs were there, but the light doesn't come on right away. When it does, for me, it can be blinding.

I've been a history buff for most of my adult life, dating back to when I saw the movie "1776" when I was a senior in high school. This dates me, I know, but my graduation was the USA's bicentennial, and everything was red, white, and blue, even our graduation gowns. I didn't get to walk to "Pomp and Circumstance" because the composer, Sir Edward Elgar, was British. But I digress.

My favorite era of history has always been the American Revolution, closely followed by the antebellum period, which for those not that into history, is the pre-Civil War era. One of the eras I didn't pay much attention to was World War I. Someone my age could hardly ignore World War II history, since there was so much aftermath that still goes on, even today. After all, the internet rule is that once you mention Hitler during an internet argument,  you automatically lose.

Just recently, however, my husband John and I began watching the PBS series, "Downton Abbey". For those not familiar, "Downton Abbey" is set in pre-WWI England and proceeds to the war in the second season. We were instantly hooked and I highly recommend it to anyone. It's a fascinating look into the lives of the nobility and serving class of the era.

I've always known that my great-grandfather, Henry Etherington MacLennan served as an Army doctor in the Great War. I also vaguely knew he lost an arm in the war and that he served in France. I never made the connection between what he went through and the book, "All Quiet on the Western Front" by Erich Maria Remarque, which I read a long time ago. But shortly before she died, one of his daughters, my great-aunt Faith, sent me a box that contained a fairly large amount of his memorabilia and papers. At the time, I glanced through them, thought they were very cool, and then put them away in a box for later perusal.

That later perusal ended up being yesterday, several years after I received them. I was attempting to organize my office, a never-ending and usually fruitless task, when I came upon the box again. It was starting to fall apart, so I decided to re-box the contents for "later perusal". As I roughly sorted the papers into postcards, pictures, letters, and documents, I realized that Henry must have written home to his wife and daughters nearly every day he was in France.  And that I was sitting on a potential treasure trove of historical perspective, at the very least family history, and quite possibly a personal peek at world history as well.

So, here's what I'm going to do. I'm terribly bad at grand projects of an enormous size. But I really want to get to know my great-grandfather through his papers. I also feel that in my role as one of the repositors of family history, I should transcribe all these papers into digital format in order to preserve them for future family historians. So, I'm going to do it as a blog.

I'll start with the little I already know about Henry, and fill in as I remember more and find more things in my archives and digging around on the internet. I'll transcribe a little at a time, and give background from my great-aunt Helen, who was another daughter of his and a prodigious writer. The title of the blog will be "Meeting Henry", and those of you who wish can follow along on my journey into my family's past.

I'll still be writing "Dubious Luxuries", of course, because that's my here-and-now life and observations. But it's looking like Henry deserves a blog of his own, and I'm going to do my best to give him one. My family has always focused on the accomplishments of its female members, which are somewhat legendary and will be interspersed with Henry's since they're related. But I think it's time for at least one of the men in the family to stand up and be recognized. Stay tuned for the first post!

Dubious Luxuries Reimagined

Once upon a time, about fifteen years ago, I was a newspaper columnist. It sort of happened by accident, as a result of several letters to the editor that I'd written to The Salisbury Post when I lived in Salisbury, NC. The response to the letters inspired me to submit a column idea about being a Yankee living in the South. The Post decided not to run the columns, but they did give me a guest spot for one of the submissions, and I was hooked.

About a year later, I had lined up enough paying gigs to go freelance. I then submitted a new column idea, a series of humorous essays about the English language. The Post had just gotten a new editor-in-chief, and she liked the idea, so I received a spot in the lifestyles section every other Thursday.

Some time after that, as they went to full color and a reformat to go with it, I received a phone call from the Post. They asked me if I could write about more general topics.  Clever girl that I am, I replied, "Of course!" For the next couple of years, my essays appeared on the front page of the lifestyles section's Sunday edition. I achieved a moderately enthusiastic following, as well as payment in glowing compliments and a surprising amount of fan mail.

I tell you this story now as my way of announcing a format change for Dubious Luxuries. I founded this blog when I was newly sober as a way to explore some of my experiences in recovery. But, like my old newspaper column about the English language, I feel that writing solely about sobriety has, for me, run its course. My commitment to my recovery has not faltered, but I find that as I develop my normal life, I feel the urge to expand this blog to topics of a more general interest. References to recovery will undoubtedly sneak their way in from time to time, since it is still the philosophical base from which I operate, but it will no longer be the main point. I hope you're cool with that. You are? Excellent.

I suppose I could have started a new blog to do all this, and I did consider it. Truth be told, however, I'm unnaturally, perhaps even neurotically, attached to the current title. I think life is full of all sorts of dubious luxuries, things which seem desirable, but often have major, and sometimes humorous, drawbacks. It's a take on the old saying, "Be careful what you wish for." Besides, I'd also have to change my custom license plate. It's frankly not worth a trip to the DMV.

You'll probably also notice that I have retained the A.A. symbol on the sidebar. I'd like like to tell you that it's there as a constant reminder to me of my commitment to my sobriety. I'd like to tell you that, because I do maintain that commitment. However, I can't tell you that, because the reality is that I can't seem to delete it. I'm taking this as a sign that the symbol is supposed to stay put.  I've also kept the old blog entries intact, for those who would like to read them.

And so, onward and forward. I recently quit my paying job to return to my old life as a freelance writer. I feel certain that this state of affairs will turn out to be a dubious luxury all by itself. I invite you to come along with me as I explore the glamor and the pitfalls of my new existence. Cheers!

Alcoholism and Addiction as Disease

In the wake of the recent death of Whitney Houston, I've observed (and participated in) a number of arguments about whether addiction to alcohol and other mind-altering drugs is really a disease. I had thought this debate had long since been put to bed, but apparently the fact that addiction is a disease is not as well known as I imagined.

The fact is (and I can't put enough emphasis on the word "FACT") addiction IS a disease. You can ask any doctor or mental health professional and you can do your own research. It is well-documented. It is both a physical neurological disease, like Tourette's Syndrome (http://www.medical-online.com/addict.htm) and it is a mental disorder classified under impulse control (http://www.sis.indiana.edu/DSM-IV-Criteria.aspx). It is also progressive, which means it slowly gets worse over time, but slowly so it isn't noticed until it's a big problem. It is chronic, which means it is recurring. Just when you think you have it under control, it comes back. And it is frequently fatal if left untreated.

It is not a question of willpower. Let's take a legally-sanctioned example. If you put me, an alcoholic, and normal drinker X together in a controlled experiment where all other factors are equal and have us each drink three shots of liquor, X will be drunk, but will be able to stop drinking. I will be drunk, and I will feel absolutely compelled to continue drinking until I pass out. It's not a choice. My physiology demands it.

The mental disorder part is tricky, and that's the part non-addicts have a hard time understanding. My disease tells me that I can drink like normal people. It tells me that I am not an alcoholic and that, just this one time, it will be okay to drink, that I won't want to drink tomorrow, too. My own brain tries to fool me into thinking I do not have a disease.  I can't control this thinking by myself, which is why I'm so grateful that I was finally able to understand that and avail myself of the help that was offered.

Understand also that I was born this way, just like normal drinkers were born that way. Because it's progressive, it didn't show up right away in me, but much like congenital risks for heart disease show up in families and may not be a problem at first, it was there all along.

I would like to make a request of those of you who will not be convinced, no matter the evidence. Your steadfast claim that I get to choose does not help me. Everybody makes mistakes in their lives, but when addicts make mistakes, the consequences are more dire.  If you'd like to see an end to addiction, please help the cause rather than making it worse. If there's an addict in your life, help them seek help. It could save their life.

Stop SOPA

http://sopastrike.com/#how-to-strike

Craig Ferguson's Sobriety Story

Understanding Guilt

When I quit drinking and joined AA, I had no idea that I was embarking on a journey of self-discovery. Like many new AAs, I just figured I could learn how to drink like normal people.  It was not the first notion of which I was disabused and I'm certain it won't be the last.

Through working the steps, I've learned a lot about who I was and how to change thinking that was harming me. I never thought I was a particularly angry person, but that was because I stuffed my emotions in a mental closet and locked them up tight. I also didn't think I was a people-pleaser, but practicing rigorous self-honesty taught me otherwise. I knew I had been trained growing up to respond to manipulation through guilt, but believed I'd thrown off the shackles of that worthless emotion. Wrong again.

Many people come into the rooms of AA horribly wracked with guilt and shame over their drinking behavior. Unfortunately, alcoholism is still poorly understood by the general public, so, on the surface, many of those behaviors might lead the drinker and those around them to believe they are entirely worthy of those feelings. However, if you ask an alcoholic if it's likely they would have done anything differently knowing only what they knew at the time, they will usually tell you they would have done exactly the same thing, even though they aren't proud of their behavior and would not have done those things if they were sober.  One of the primary differences between an alcoholic and a normal drinker is that alcohol will lead an alcoholic to engage in uncharacteristic behavior, i.e., it changes their personality. This does not in any way excuse or exonerate that behavior, but it does explain it. An alcoholic is powerless over alcohol.

Just knowing that can sometimes alleviate some of the guilt.  Doing so is important because harboring negative feelings can get an alcoholic drunk faster than just about anything. Guilt is one of those "dubious luxuries" of normal drinkers.  We can't afford it.

In order to free ourselves of guilt, we need to come to a fuller understanding of just what guilt is, and where it comes from.  Simply put, guilt is a by-product of control. Most of us learned it in childhood from our parents and other authority figures. In an effort to mold our behavior, we often heard things such as "Nice girls don't do that," or "No son of mine will ever (insert behavior)." Because we instinctively want to be on the good side of the people who feed, clothe and house us, we learn to feel badly when we don't live up to their expectations. Because we are alcoholics, even before we start drinking, we develop disproportionately large guilt mechanisms. We are experts not only at feeling guilt, but at wielding it as well. We become people-pleasers and manipulators. Unconsciously, we believe we are running the world and everything that happens in it is a direct result of our actions or inactions.

Now, not everyone who is self-centered in such a way is an alcoholic, but every alcoholic I've ever met is disproportionately self-centered. The purpose of the 12 steps is to teach us to think differently about ourselves and the world around us, and that is why they are so extremely powerful. They can relieve us of the desire to drink when nothing else on earth could.

In a nutshell, when we feel guilty, it is because of our unconscious desire to please others. We still believe that we can control others' thoughts and feelings by our actions. To some extent, we can, but it's an imperfect science.  Anyone who tries on a consistent basis to do so knows what an impossible task it is to please everyone, but the alcoholic still believes it is possible in the face of their failure.

The alternative to guilt is a release of control and the honest attempt at right action. In AA, we call it "doing the next right thing".  In the third step, we give up our will and our lives to the care of our higher power. In the eleventh step we develop our relationship with that power by asking only for knowledge of its will for us and the power to carry it out.  In the twelfth step we attempt to practice these principles in all of our affairs.

It is in this practice that we are able stay sober and free of guilt. We take life as it comes to us and let our higher power lead the way.  We aren't perfect at it, because we are humans.  But we do progress.  As a consequence, we are able to learn how to lead happy and productive lives that enhance the lives of those around us.  Thus the powerless become powerful.  I call that a win-win.