Mom of Two Knocks Out Big Mouth Irish Boy!

In addiction the addict stays camped out inside our head, ready to put its two cents into a situation whenever it can if we don't keep it locked in its cage. We do that through recovery groups, helping others in recovery, spiritual development and logical thinking. Logical thinking is the rub. An addict lives his life emotionally, feeding unwanted feelings with the drug of choice. He reacts first and then sorts out the damage. I let my emotions spill out on paper without thinking logically about what my wife's legitimate concerns were. I acted first and asked questions later.

Over the last few weeks I have been caught up in my daughter's problems,  theatre production, a comedy showcase and an offer for a film called "Sidetracked" while I await word on another project I am very interested in for later in the summer. There is also the renewal of "The Chicago Code" and some student projects I have volunteered for at Columbia College Film School, where I am a proud alum. Basically I have let myself get chaotic and emotional.

My wife is thrilled with my career and doesn't want me to stop what I am doing. I let an emotional outburst she laid on me effect me and I got defensive. "Mom of Two" was quick to point out that there were probably many times when I shot my mouth off when I was using or drinking. She is spot on. My wife made a comment that she knew would hurt me, to get my attention. This is another practice I used to participate in frequently.

I have no resentment with my daughter getting child support. You missed the mark there, "Mom of two." I am frustrated that I don't know where she is. I went wrong by not listening to my wife's lashing out and hear where she was coming from. There were some simple things she needed me to do. Going back to sales and giving up acting isn't on the list. I reacted defensively instead of compassionately. That is old behavior. I am still an alcoholic. I do not use alcohol but there is still some "ick" that pops out sometimes. Recovery is a lifelong process. My wife and I are wonderful. She is the next greatest thing to my sobriety.

God does not come down with fire and burning bush so much these days. He speaks through us. "Mom of Two", thank you for being a messenger for me to see things clearly. I needed your third party slap in the face to get back on page. I have passed on the film "Sidetracked" and will be managing my projects more efficiently to accommodate my personal universe. "Mom of Two", you never know when God is going to have you step up to the plate and be His instrument of change for the day or moment. I thank you for being mine today. God bless us all!

We're Just Two Lost Souls Swimmin' in a Fish Bowl, Year After Year..Pink Floyd

I have spoken in recent chapters about being emotionally unavailable or incapable of having functional, healthy relationships with people when I was drinking and using. In my experiences an addict doesn't have the capability to connect fully with another human when they are in the midst of active addiction. The disease creates an obsession, so strong, so uncompromising in its demands, that even when we are with our loved ones, we are not "all there." We are thinking about the next drink, hit, high or escape.

I have had an inability to connect with my mother over the years of my addiction, undiagnosed depression issues, or more specifically, before I ever picked up and learned to live with my depression. Take a moment and think about the people in your orbit. There is somebody who you just can't reach. It's someone you love and you feel that your efforts at making them happy are never good enough. There is someone who you desperately want approval from and a deeper relationship with but that just never materializes.

My mother is a fiercely independent woman, who prefers isolation and solitude over "lovey-dovey" chats. Deep heart felt conversations are rare, if ever, and I accept that. She was never the PTA, go to the game, "rah-rah" type of mom. She had work and her own issues to work through. My grandmother wasn't exactly warm-n-fuzzy. My grandfather, I can tell you very little about, even though I spent a lot of time with him. I know he enjoyed his beer and wasn't much for conversation. I don't know what she has lived through to make her who she is. Nor have I walked a mile in her shoes.

This is not meant as a finger pointing session, but a deep confession of frustration. I don't hold resentments towards her or anyone. Resentments are where we drink the poison and wait for the other guy to die. Any person you hold a resentment towards, probably isn't sitting in front of the fire thinking about you right now. Plain and simply put, I do not let people live in my head rent free. She is who she is. That is a simple statement of truth. That doesn't make it any easier but I am amazed that at age 45 I am still waiting for a magical day that just isn't going to come.

For years I blamed my drinking and addiction on my folks and found myself dialing them up drunk and telling them what complete failures they were as parents. That worked for a long time until the day my mother responded to my berating with a cool reply of "Maybe you're not the son I wanted to have either." That really hit me between the eyes and ended my drunken calls. It was a true statement. I couldn't argue with her. Addicts drink "AT" people. When I quit using it was pointed out to me that I hadn't lived with her in 20 years and continued to use. My excuse was rendered ridiculous. She also never poured it down my throat. I am responsible for my addiction. There was always someone to blame for my woes. I was the one who got me high.

My mom and I are a lot alike. We are sensitive, deep, dark and brooding. I know that plays into the difficulties over our connection. We are like rams butting heads, not in a fight for territory, but because that's the way we are. We go through some good patches and then go on the skids. It's a pattern we have repeated for years. I chuckle to myself, in an unhappy way, that I am a grown man and am still craving love from my mommy, like a 5 year old child.

It has gotten to the point that phone calls are excruciating. I don't know what to say after we have covered her health, her dog and the weather. After that it is like I am forcing conversation that is awkward and difficult. I know one thing for sure. After the phone call is over, I am left feeling sad. There is a hint of bitterness in her goodbyes. My mother can let me know what a disappointment I am just by the tone of her voice. When we see each other it is pleasant, but I always sense that I have treated her inadequately or am on her icky list and don't know why. She always seems to look at me like all I do is let her down. I certainly know I did horrible things as a drunk but this vibe has been there since I fully comprehended that she was my mother.

In the 5 years I have done comedy she has never seen me perform. Her response to my acting and film work is "Do I have to call you Mr. Hollywood now?" She hates FOX so won't see me on "The Chicago Code" and has never heard of "Shameless" or Showtime. I am auditioning for a full feature film thriller. She has already said she won't see it because "she doesn't like films like that." I know I sound bitter. I think this chapter is more for me than you but I know some of you have to share these same frustrations.

I am not some diva or movie star who wants her to "ooh and ah" over my profession. I am pleased with my work and have great passion for it. I just want to be recognized as making her happy or proud or at least not a gaping wound in her life that will never heal. That is what I have wanted my whole life no matter what profession I was in. But why? I know I haven't been the greatest son in the world, but it seems like when I get two steps ahead in our relationship, something happens, and I slip back three.

I know the key is acceptance. I do accept her for who she is but that doesn't make it any easier. When I feel bad or insignificant, the self assuring thought of "oh, well that's just the way Mom is" doesn't cut it. Actually if she suddenly changed and became interested in my life and engaged fully in it, I would probably be even more uncomfortable at this point in my life. I would think she went soft.

In my sobriety, I am really starting to see that we are all messed up somehow, someway. I avoided "feelings" for years through self-medication and drowning in my own depression. We are all just trying to get through this life as happily as possible. I love my mom with all my heart. She is who she is. That is the fact. I am the goof who dreams of a chicken suddenly turning into a peacock. I am sure there are people in my life who feel these same things about me.

I will continue to make the awkward phone calls and choose my words carefully when we speak. My wife, family and friends give me great support and I am grateful for that. I can pray for her to change but the outcomes are out of my control. I will take our relationship like all of life, one day at a time. I will keep the faith, and do what I gotta do.

Thanks for the session. I will leave a check on the credenza and I will schedule another appointment with the lady in reception. Be safe. Do your best. God Bless you all.

Angels and Dreamins'.....Near Death Experiences and Visitations! Part One!

By the end of the chapter you will think I'm a few coins short of paying the Ferryman or right on the money. Either way I am dedicated to sharing it all. The subjects I am going to breach are often dismissed as wishful thinking, hopeful delusion or just plain nutty imaginations. I have firm conviction in the areas of dream interpretation, spirit visitation, guardian angels and dimensions beyond the 3 we currently experience as humans. I very much enjoy programs like, "I Survived...Dead and Back," "Ancient Aliens," and "Celebrity Ghost Stories."

 I believe them or many of them. At the least I am open to the possibilities. I have experienced some unusual,unexplainable spiritual encounters personally. I also know there are hucksters and manipulators out there who manufacture their so called "psychic abilities" to pray on weak and hopeful. The bottom line is that it is ludicrous to think that me or scientists can say that these experiences are hooey! Darwin himself said that if there were more components to his single cell theory that the whole theory must be thrown out. We now know there is much more to a single cell organism than the one Darwin peered at in his 100x magnification microscope. If you are a Darwinist read up on it. While you're at it cover the "missing link" for me. I know what the missing link is. It is God! I refuse putting limitations on the creator of the universe and I know that with God anything is possible. More importantly, "to not lean on my own understanding."

My belief in these other dimensions and experiences are based on the fact that we use very little of our brain's capacity. It's less than 10% I think. That leaves 90% of sensory ability most of us have not developed. It has got to be there for a reason!  My personal beliefs do not conflict with my Christian views because there are frequent references to "angels being among us" and "visions" by the messengers of God. There is the appearance of the Nephilim and their procreating with humans. Virtually all cultures describe objects in the sky and encounters with creatures not of this world.

Ultimately I am okay with it because I do not try to define God. He is eternal and omnipotent, no beginning or end. No where in the Bible does it say that earth and sky were all He created in this universe only. He created the whole shootin' match. Earth was just a part. I believe there is much, much more. To think that we are the only intelligent life in a universe that grows daily is putting man's conception of God's limitations on Him. I can not fathom how one can put parameters on an omnipresent, all powerful force that we do not comprehend. The small mindedness of man and his narcissistic thinking creates this hog wash!

I am going to share 3 "unexplainable" experiences I had with "the other side," and mental connections that I know are not of this earth. Terra Firma is a spec in an ocean of galaxies. I know these experiences were as real as puddin' pie and I am grateful to have had them. If you disagree, start your own book. It wasn't so long ago that man thought the earth was flat. Galileo was almost executed as a heretic, Einstein a fool.

My grandmother and I were very close. My mom worked hard and Gram stepped in to play a life shaping role in my early youth. We had a connection beyond conversational. I felt her all the way through from my inner core to hers. In 1991 she was in the hospital suffering from emphysema and a myriad of terminal conditions. On her last day here, I was home for lunch from my job and received a call from my mother. She said I should stop after work and see Gram because the doctors didn't think she would make it through the night.

She was at Silver Cross Hospital in Joliet. I was working in Shorewood a few miles away. I finished my lunch and headed back to work. I would stop at the hospital at the end of the day. While driving on I-80, just before Larkin Avenue, I was overwhelmed with an inner feeling that I had to go to the hospital THEN! I exited at Larkin and headed back to the hospital. The voice was powerful and non-negotiable. I entered the room to find my mother pacing, as she had been there for hours. I suggested she go grab a smoke and a Coke and I would sit with Grams.

Mom left for a break, exhausted and emotionally drained. Grams was propped up in her bed with tubes and drips stuck into all the veins available for pumping in medicines. Her eyes were open and moving but she was unable to communicate verbally with me. I sat at the edge of her bed and took her hand. I told her I loved her and that she was like a mother to me. I expressed my gratitude for her always looking after me and accepting me unconditionally. She knew of my alcoholism and had suffered through years of it with my grandfather. I cried and rubbed her hand, thanking her for being such a bright light in my universe. She was a huge Bulls fan and I told her she had to get better and come home because she couldn't miss their first championship.

As those words spilled from my lips she peered at me. Her eyes darted left and right searching into mine. She took a deep breath and exhaled. It wasn't an exhale I had ever heard before. It was complete, a full expulsion of all the air in her lungs. The sound seemed to go on for a minute. I know it was much shorter than that and that she was gone. I told her I loved her and kissed her forehead and then completely lost it. My mother returned to find her mother had passed and me in hysteria. It was one of the most difficult yet beautiful things I have ever experienced. The sounds that a person makes on that final breath are not like Hollywood. It is chilling in its finality. I think of her daily.

What I experienced that day was not of this dimension or plain. The feeling that pulled at me to go immediately to the hospital instead of later in the evening was unrelenting. It wasn't a quick and easy way to end my work day. My inner spirit was guiding me to my grandmother and told me she needed me right then! Her passing in my presence explains the urgency. The confessions of my love for her were not a staged drama with a climactic ending. God put me there for her and for me! I drank a lot that night and cried about losing my rock. Then my anger at her death turned to thankfulness for God allowing me to be a part of her last moments here.