Spirituality...Examined

There seemed to be a bit of a theme to my day yesterday, Spirituality.  That's kind of unusual for me.  I don't typically spend a whole lot of time focusing on my Higher Power.  For me, I recognize that there is something out there that is bigger than me, but I pretty much leave it at that.  And when it comes to religion...well, I don't do religion.  Don't get me wrong, it fascinates the hell out of me, but in the same way a car accident on the freeway fascinates me.  I suppose it's a morbid fascination.  In the event that I do discuss religion, it's usually in the context of me tearing organized religion to shreds, much to the dismay of some poor, unassuming church goer.  However, yesterday was a different experience entirely.

It began in group therapy.  One of my fellow depression sufferers mentioned that he doesn't believe in a higher power.  He went on to discuss his negative experiences with Roman Catholicism.  This turned into an hour long discussion about religion, spirituality and the belief in a higher power.  Strangely, I found myself arguing for the belief in a higher power (a very unusual position for me).  I was hearing from him an intrinsic association of religion and spirituality, an association I know all too well.  I spent much of my life rejecting anything relating to religion, spirituality and god because they were inseperable.  While, I still choose not use the term god, because I feel that it is too closely associated with an interpretation of a higher power that is held by organized religions, I do feel strongly about the existence of a higher power.  However, it has taken me a lot of soul searching and education to understand the inherent difference between the two concepts, religion and spirituality.  So, I felt for this guy.  But the experience was bigger than that.  I also found myself being able to see eye to eye with a woman, who is very much a Christian ,on the matter of god/higher power speaking to you/showing you the way/the universe giving you a sign or whatever you choose to call it.  And while she spoke of it in terms of praying to god before she read the bible and finding that god will guide her to the writings that she really needs to read at that time, I could understand that in terms of the universe giving me a sign (i.e. coming down with a cold that forces me into bed when I'm already feeling overwhelmed).  I can honestly say, I have never experienced that type of understanding between myself and a religious person when it comes to experiencing ones spirituality.  It was kind of enlightening.

Later that evening, I, along with my mom, sister, niece and a few friends, attended a service at a church where the pastor is a Medium.  Since the passing of my brother-in-law, my family and his have developed a great interest in the ability of Mediums to connect with the dead.  About a week ago, the sister of my brother-in-law, met with a Medium privately.  Her experience with the Medium was very convincing.  The woman communicated with my brother-in-law and revealed to his sister pieces of information that were very specific to my brother-in-law and his death.  So, last night, we decided to try it for ourselves.  The Medium did connect with my brother-in-law, as well as, my maternal grandparents and while it wasn't as convincing as my sister-in-law's experience, it still had me in tears.  I'm still on the fence regarding my faith in the power of Mediums, but I'm certainly considering the possibility.

So, all in all, my day was filled with spiritual awakening, I suppose.  As I wrote that, I found myself cringing at how very cliche it sounds, but for lack of a better term, I'm sticking with spiritual awakening.

90...and Counting

Last night, I joined my mom, sister and niece in giving my dad a cake at a CA (Cocaine Anonymous) meeting for his 20th sobriety birthday. It was an interesting experience. We did the same thing last year for his 19th birthday and I spent most of the meeting outside on the phone talking about how much I wanted to get high. This year, having been marijuana free for over 90 days, I had a whole different perspective.

I've never been a fan of the 12 Step ideology. My dad got sober when I was five and I probably knew the 12 Steps before I knew how to write my own name. As a little girl, I frequently accompanied him to meetings. I've always had a sense of pride about my father's sobriety and have a great deal of respect for anyone who has conquered their addiction. But as I grew up and developed my sense of understanding about the existance of a higher power, the 12 Step program didn't really fit with my feelings on the topic. They always talked about God, and I didn't do God. When I began to identify some of the issues I held with my father, most of which revolved around his addiction, I tried Al-anon. But it just wasn't my thing. I spent so much time trying to block out all that God mumbo-jumbo, that I wasn't hearing much of anything.

The outpatient program I do, uses the 12 Steps, but within their own program. And while I still have issues with a lot of it, it is a better fit for me. Quitting marijuana was never going to be the solution to my problem. My issues lay in the mental and emotional realm. For me, marijuana use was meerly a vain attempt at self-help. I still don't see myself as an addict. I had a substanse abuse problem.

When I started smoking, it was for fun. Something to do once in a while, like drinking. It stayed that way for a long time, for as long as I was healthy. But as my depression crept back up, my motivation for smoking changed. I was getting high to avoid dealing with all the feelings I was having. And before long, I was pretty much always high. Once I sought treatment and began to recieve the help I really needed, quitting marijuana was easy. It was never the solution I was looking for.

On Thursday, I hit 90 days of sobriety. Now, I should be honest and admit that I still drink. And if I were to tell one of my counselors or someone in a 12 Step program, they would tell me that I don't have a single day of sobriety. But like I said...I still have my issues with the program. I'm very proud of my accomplishment. Honestly, I didn't think it would be as easy as it has been. I don't know if I'll ever smoke again. I've kind of lost interest, but that could always change.

I've made a lot of headway since I quit. I'll never know how much of that is due to sobriety and how much is a result of intensive treatment and medication, but I don't doubt that it helped.

Drugs and Depression

I'd like to start this post by mentioning that I took a Xanex about 30 minutes ago.  And for some reason, in spite of my typically high tolerance for drugs (I consider 4 advil to be a minimal dose), Xanex fucks me up.  So, if this post turns out to be an incomprehensible rambling mess, you can't say I didn't warn you.

I grew up with a mother who tended to lean towards the holistic persuasion when it came to health care.  I still remember the first time I took an antibiotic, because it was such a big deal.  It was Christmas.  I was in fourth grade.  I had the worst flu I've ever come down with.  I actually slept through Christmas dinner and present opening festivities.  In my house, when you scraped your knee or got a cat scratch, you went out to the backyard and plucked off a leaf from the aloe plant.  And while my family has become gradually less holistic over the years, the idea of taking anti-depressants was, at first, a little daunting.

When I was first prescribed an anti-depressant, it wasn't for depression at all.  It was to help me quit smoking.  Ya, a lot of good that did.  Well, it worked for awhile.  Then I started having panic attacks, so I got another prescription for a different anti-depressant.  Ironically, however, my depression began not long after that.  I often wonder if the two are connected, but that's neither here nor there.  Since then I've been through my fair share of anti-depressant drug cocktails.

Unfortunately, these drugs aren't exactly magic happy pills.  Each one comes with its own laundry list of side effects.  Some of my favorites include excessive sweating, insomnia and weight gain.  And if you can stand the side effects, you still have to do all the hard work yourself.  But, in spite of all these "perks,"  I swear by them.

You see, there has been more than one incident where I decided that I didn't need those pesky little pills.  Both times I found myself in an intensive outpatient program, jobless and living with my mother.  So, reluctantly, I've come to terms with the fact that anti-depressants and I share an inseparable bond.  And just maybe, we'll live happily ever after together.