Archive for the Life Category

A New Adventure

I wanted to be a rock star when I grew up. There were a few other more attainable career goals I had which changed as I pursued them. For instance, I began college as a pre-pharmacy major. Then I took zoology and realized I could not handle dissections. Then I took college chemistry and realized I didn’t really like it. Well, I didn’t like learning the theory at the time. Of course, getting a concussion the first full week of my first fall semester didn’t help with anything. So, I fell back to my previous desire to be a programmer and changed my major to Computer Science. Assembly language and discrete math happened, so I switched majors again to Industrial Technology concentrating in manufacturing. After graduation, I joined the Air Force and built a career in another IT – Information Technology. After getting my master’s in IT, I decided that when I thought I wanted to be a programmer, I really just wanted to play games.

A few years ago I decided I was going to change career fields. I got an associates in Human Services and absolutely LOVED it. But I kept doing IT. And then I got back into debt and felt stuck. But after 28 years I took a leap and sold my house to move back to my childhood home and start all over.

Where the house was. Now overgrown with kudzu at its summer peak.

The plan was to get the kids in a rental house or apartment and get a job to pay bills while building a woodworking business and turning my 40 acres into a self-sustaining farm. But things haven’t gone according to the plan.

It took me 2 months to find a job making less than half what I was making. I at least like this job much better. It took my youngest 4 months to find a job. So by that point all the savings was gone, all the money from selling the house was gone, and the credit cards were maxed out again. I got most of the material bought for building a woodworking shed, but circumstances happened so that my cousin wasn’t able to work on it with me – one of those being the ridiculous heat.

This whole adventure has been unbelievably hard and humbling. I don’t want to have to rely on anyone for help, but while I have a job, I don’t make enough to cover the debt and expenses even while living off grid. So I’ve had to ask for money, for supplies, and for food. I think about getting a second job and then remember that’s what the business is supposed to be. Now that it’s getting cold, I have to get more hardened shelters up for us and can’t work on a temporary shop. One of my cousins brought over his camper the other night before the rain hit so we wouldn’t freeze. That was an absolute Godsend.

I’ve had quite a bit of help from family and friends. All I have to do is ask. But that is the really hard part. Because running alongside my need for help is the narrative my dad gave me as I was growing up in which I can hear him saying, “See, I told you that you are stupid and irresponsible.” What I actually am is ADHD with a TON of trauma and probably some autism. (Comorbidity is a bitch for sorting out why you are the way you are and do the things you do.) When you’ve been given an identity by a primary caregiver since birth, it is deeply embedded and takes a lot more than positivity and self-talk to overcome. Heck, it’s taken a ton of 12 Step work and therapy just to identify. The thing is, when you’ve heard it from a parent, you are going to automatically assume everyone else thinks the same thing – “You’re stupid and irresponsible.” – and when you are raised in a culture of Social Darwinists, you believe you deserve all the bad/negative consequences of your bad choices because “You made your bed, now lie in it.” So, I keep my fears and pain to myself, and try to dig out by myself, but the hole just keeps getting deeper, and the shame piles on higher making it even harder to dig.

I’ll never be the rock star I wanted to be growing up, and that’s fine. I’m doing IT work in a factory so I’m finally working in my undergraduate field. I chuckle about it, but I think my undergrad advisor was on to something when he advised me to concentrate in manufacturing. I like to make stuff and build stuff and I feel almost at home as I walk through the plant to work on an issue. That’s why I’m still going to work toward my other dream of woodworking. I’m still going to work toward a dream of a self-sufficient farm – a farm that pays for itself so that I am less reliant on store-bought food. It’s frustrating that it’s going to take much longer than I thought and with a lot more outside help to get going.

I didn’t set out to share quite as much as I did in this first post in months, but the words were ready to flow so I let them. Perhaps that vulnerability will help me social media beg for supplies and money later. Haha! (Laughing like I’m not serious.)

If you made it through that mess, thanks for stopping by and reading. I’ll add links somewhere at some point for help with expenses and necessities. Peace to you!

Anxiety in a time of uncertainty

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But  that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with  the time that is given us.”
J.R.R. Tolkien – The Fellowship of The Ring


Photo by Sam Burriss on Unsplash
unsplash-logoSam Burriss

I’ve had a lifelong battle with anxiety. Whether I developed it from abuse or it has always been a part of my self I do not know. It could be either or both. I can recall a time when I was little having recurring nightmares about ghosts and monsters. Every now and then I’ll see an upright piano that reminds me of a particular nightmare and for a brief moment, I can see it with eyes and a mouth ready to eat me. I vividly remember a ghost walking across the living room to me and biting me. I remember hearing the C-130s out of LRAFB passing and nearly panicking, convinced we were about to be bombed. I can remember the nightmares of one or both of my parents just leaving me somewhere alone while they just disappeared. I developed an extreme fear of storms, though that has an explanation. It was around the age of 6 that I started having panic attacks. The abuse guaranteed that I would be hypervigilant every waking moment because there was no telling what might set my dad off at any time. Then there was the threat of nuclear war or even an accident at one of the nearby missile bases.

I learned some coping mechanisms to get through all of that. Dissociation, denial, and eventually alcohol kept the panic at bay most of the time. But those only go so far. I have had a recurring nightmare since I was in elementary school about plane crashes. Different planes, different scenarios, different places (though several of them take place at my childhood home of Birdtown), and never if I am on a plane in my dream where I’m usually the pilot. All of those dream plane crashes happen near where I am to include on me. I think one of the reasons 9/11 affected me as it did that day (I was a mess) was because when I watched live as the second plane hit the second tower, it was a nightmare become real life even though I was in another country and had physical distance. I was able to continue to put on my concerned but calm face except for when the first tower collapsed, but a month later I started having the panic attacks again. I had them 2 or 3 times a week for 3 years. THREE YEARS. I can’t count the number of times I ended up in the A&E at Hinchingbrooke Hospital in England. The panic attacks were that bad. It was certainly an additional factor to my increase in drinking from every now and then to every day.

Now I am sober and have had a lot of therapy and take medication to combat both the anxiety and the deep depression that always follows the anxiety following a period of high stress. I know the physiology behind the symptoms, and have a good idea the things that either caused or exacerbated the physiological responses, but knowledge alone doesn’t mitigate chronic psychological conditions. In my case, it did lead me to recognize when I became suicidal – again – and reach out to my sponsor, my therapist, my doctor, and my closest friends instead of trying to bottle it up via my default stuffing and suppressing.

All that said, with COVID-19 we all find ourselves in interesting times to say the least. Almost all of us have had to make dramatic changes in our everyday lives. Some have lost jobs (even if temporarily) that they can’t afford to lose. Some can’t afford to self-quarantine even if they weren’t considered essential personnel. Some of us cannot telework. Everything we’ve been doing socially, even church, we are having to do radically differently not just for our own health but for the health of others, particularly the most vulnerable. It is a time of great uncertainty not knowing when the virus will run it’s course and we can get out and about without risking spreading it unchecked. We know people are going to die, and it will be someone we know if it hasn’t already. Our economy is going to take a major hit no matter what steps we take or don’t take. Our collective health and wealth is threatened and it feels like judgement not just on the United States but the whole world.

At this point my life hasn’t been affected. I’m still working and I haven’t gotten sick. My children are not sick, and the one who was sick was fine after a couple of days. (The doctor felt confident it wasn’t COVID-19.) I’m anxious, but not hoard food and toilet paper anxious. I’m not freaking out. I was obsessively washing my hands before the virus was discovered, and I am minimizing trips or stops between work and home. It’s mild anxiety due to the uncertainty associated with a global pandemic though it’s not keeping me up at night. I’ve been through a lot of things in my life, and I’ve developed enough healthy coping tools to neither panic nor deny.

I want to say to those who might be panicky/freaking out/very anxious that I understand. This is a dangerous time without a physical enemy to direct our fears toward with anger. There is a lot of misinformation, conspiracies, and flat out lies that hide and/or distort the facts coming from political leaders (both sides) and religious leaders. Anxiety in this chaotic environment is perfectly normal and you’re not alone, you’re not crazy, you’re not weak, and you don’t deserve to be ridiculed or shamed by anyone.

Rehashing the past decade

I was going to do a year in review, but I am opting for a decade review like a lot of other people. So much happened over the last 10 years. I went through some stuff that was really hard and was suicidal more than I really like to admit. In fact, I denied I was suicidal only to find out later that I was. I never had intent or a plan; I just wanted to die. My sponsor, therapist, and doctor all know and after the last bout, I got back on an antidepressant. But anyway, I’m going to break the decade down by year.

2010: I changed jobs because of a hostile work environment. Ended up in another. Finished grad school with a Master’s in IT and realized I hated IT. I started singing in front of people and did my first VBS stint as music director thanks to Molly. This was also the year I started to realize I had some issues I needed to address.

2011: Hit my first deer. Quit new job and went back to old. Started running, also thanks to Molly. Went gluten free thanks to my dr and Petra. Finished the year with the worst depressive episode I’d ever had.

2012: Went chemical free, and now I can’t use regular deodorant without breaking out. Had my second sinus surgery to remove a nasal polyp. Dyed my hair for the last time and had a horrific allergic reaction. Ran my first half marathon thanks to Karyn. Lost a dog. Had second biopsy on one of my boobs. Husband totaled the van and got his 1st DWI. A longtime friend from high school was killed in a car wreck.

2013: The year I fell apart. Switched churches. Started taking antidepressant. Started seeing a therapist. Started going to AlAnon. Attempted homeschooling. Did 14 races.

2014: Quit drinking after realizing that I too was an alcoholic, albeit a functional one. Husband totaled the truck and got DWI #2. Amber the cat ho had her first 2 of 2000 litters. Got my nose pierced. Oldest got driver’s license. Mom had a stroke.

2015: Met the Fonz who held Petra’s hand and not mine. Saw Fleetwood Mac in concert. Stopped the antidepressant. Separated. Spent my last Thanksgiving with Mom.

2016: Stopped therapy. Mom died. Tried reconciliation. Saw Stevie Nicks in concert. Started writing the fictional story I have in my head. Trump. Became cynical and disillusioned.

2017: Separation #2. Started back to school after being told I wasn’t too old to change careers. Youngest got driver’s license. Lost 3 dogs. Got a tattoo.

2018: Went on a cruise. Got laid off but got a new position at another organization on same contract with same company. Quit church. Got a new sponsor. Started seeing a new therapist who deals with trauma. Filed for divorce. Half of my team at work quit. Cut my hair very short.

2019: Another team member quit leaving me site lead. I’ve spent years avoiding being site lead. Got back on antidepressant and a migraine prevention. Primitive camped on my land in Arkansas deciding that I could totally live in a tent out there. One of our systems was permanently turned off so we moved to the other site. Did an internship. Got divorced. Finished school with a 4.0 overall. Started a second antidepressant. Learned right before Christmas that my position is the only one that will be funded after contract year ends. I’m literally last man standing. While having a job is a good thing, it’s not a 1-man job. Oh, and I met Felicia Day and got a side hug which beats the Fonz holding Petra’s hand.

Over the decade I have done a lot of growing, dealt with a lot of issues, questioned, balked at suggestions, most of my closest friends moved away, and I did a lot of questioning of my values and beliefs. I lost my mom, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. I’ve tried new things, made new friends, got out of the echo chamber I was in, and embraced my inner hippy flower child. I am a completely different person than I was 10 years ago, and that’s a good thing.

That time a light shined into the dark

I have a little story to tell.

My therapist asked me a question a couple of weeks ago, and I gave her a partial story which answered her question but did not get to the rest of the story which would have resulted in an ugly cry. Last week I read a blog post that included a story which reminded me of this one I had just told my therapist. And so I decided I’m ready to share it.

It was 6th grade. A lot of awful crap happened that year. Like the cut finger incident I wrote about before and significantly toned down Daddy’s response. But anyway, one morning I was waiting for the bus, and Mom had to make a long distance phone call for something. This was back in the dark ages when we were on a party line and you had to call the operator to call the operator to call long distance. At least you couldn’t direct dial. Daddy had told her exactly what to do because of course he did. She did not follow his instructions exactly as she began to talk to the operator and he began screaming at her and saying awful, hateful things.

And I fell apart.

When Mom finished with the call, she turned on him and asked him if he was happy for how that affected me. And that’s the extent I remember of their interaction as the bus came and I could leave.

That’s all I told my therapist. Which that was all that was relevant to her question.

What I remember of the bus ride to school that morning was trying to will myself away. Just away. Away from everybody. I didn’t want to deal with anybody and I sure didn’t want to melt down in front of anybody and have to explain. I just wanted to be completely invisible. And it pretty much worked on the bus. But then we got to school.

When I walked in the door to the building, 2 girls from my class were in the hallway outside the door to our classroom. Now these girls picked on me a lot, but I normally didn’t mind because they did it in a way that didn’t feel malicious, and was almost always funny. That morning, however, was not the time, not that they knew. I could see it on their faces and knew it was coming, and they started in. On a normal day, it would not have bothered me in the least. But that morning, I lashed out at them, ran into the classroom, and put my head down on my desk and started crying. Which again, I didn’t want to cry and have to explain.

Those 2 girls immediately came over asking me what was wrong with genuine concern. I gave them the oversimplified short version and they proceeded to try to convince me it was going to be okay. They were the light that I needed in that moment of darkness.

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:14-16 NIV

via GIPHY

No resolutions

Happy New Year!

I am certainly glad to be done with 2018. I had some firsts last year. I went on a cruise, I sang karaoke. I always said I’d never gotten drunk enough for karaoke, and I’ve been blackout drunk a few times. But apparently I just needed to get sober enough.

I had goals last year. I wanted to lose a bunch of weight before my 30 year reunion. I lost 5 pounds – while on the cruise. Stairs, man. We walked a lot of stairs. Also, Petra made me eat healthy. Anyway, I intended to do yoga every day, and tried to get back into meditating every morning. I wanted to eat healthier. For the most part I failed at them all.

This year I have goals again. But I started working on them before Christmas because I have to combat the stress. I’ve been doing yoga, and signed up for a 30 day challenge again. I’ve been making little dietary changes starting with cutting out the syrupy Starbucks. I’m walking the stairs at work several times a day already with a goal of going from basement (where I work) to the top every hour. I didn’t get that done last week because I was very busy and trying to get a bunch of stuff done and wasn’t finding good stopping points.

And I’m going to get rid of my house. I sold my mom’s house, which was my security net. But this house I’ve been in just got way too far out of hand. It was not a good investment for a couple of drunks. I’ve been working on decluttering. It’s going very slow because there is just so much shit scattered everywhere. But I made a LOT of progress in the kitchen over this long weekend, and I’ll just do what I was told – one room at a time.

I intend to blog on the regular again. I want to start back working on my fiction. It may or may not happen as spring semester starts Monday. The fiction, that is. Speaking of school, I have 3 classes this semester, and all that’s left will be the internship. Oh, maybe what I’ve been trying to prove with school is that I can knock this out without dropping out at least once. Because I dropped out of undergrad once and graduate school twice. Then again, I’m not losing interest partway into each semester like I always did before. Because I am following my calling. And I’m sober now. That makes a huge difference. Go figure.

And this time next year, hopefully, I will be changing careers. Because I am not too old to do that.

Back at it

I haven’t written in a while. Life got in the way. Going to school full time and working full time leaves no time. Especially when I am also going through a divorce and managing a household alone. I’ve hit critical mass with my house and I’m ready to get rid of it. Things happen with an older house and that was manageable(ish) until I was alone. There are still things I can and will fix, but there’s just so much overall.

I’m tired.

This past semester, I took 5 classes – while working full time in a new role where I’m still learning, and we just did a hardware migration. Those things never go smoothly. Half of our team quit, and while we were undermanned before, we are ridiculously undermanned now. I was busy. And there was a lot of life happening with the kids and ER visits and wrecks and hurricanes and plumbing issues.

Friends told me I took too many classes. My therapist told me I took too many classes. My sponsor told me I took too many classes. But I barreled on, and I paid a high price – mentally and physically – to get straight A’s.

Was it worth it?

I got a massage the other day as a birthday present to myself because everything hurt. She told me she could feel the inflammation, and let me tell you, that massage hurt like hell! I was very sore for a couple of days, but I had better mobility. She assured me I can combat the physical by working on my diet and getting some exercise in. Which I have already started on because I am tired of hurting.

But the mental…

My therapist asked me what I still have left to prove and to whom. This is the question I don’t like answering. Because, really, what am I trying to prove? That I’m smart? That I’m self-sufficient? That I can do all the things? And to what end? To whom do I need to prove this? And the big question, why?

There is a quick and easy answer, but it is incomplete because the problem is complex. And so there is no quick and easy fix. It’s not helped with cliche or a prooftext bible verse or a pep talk. There’s not a sermon, formulaic set of steps, or special diet. (Though a good 12 Step group does help.) Mostly there is just a lot of hard and painful work involved to let shit go. And make no mistake:

It takes a lot of hard work to let things go that have been stuffed and suppressed your entire life.

It takes a lot of hard and painful work to reject as false a set of beliefs you were indoctrinated to believe were true that aren’t.

It takes a lot of hard and painful work to stop thinking you don’t measure up even when looking at tangible and obvious accomplishments.

All this to say, I think I’ve been doing the wrong work. I’ve spent my whole life working to live up to what I think others expect of me. Not what I know is expected, what I think. There is a difference.

It seems a simple thing to just let go of that rock, but here’s the thing. I didn’t pick up the rock. It was tied onto me by someone else with multiple tight knots that I can’t untie alone. Heck, I can’t even see them all. And that’s why the work is hard and painful.

What is Addiction? – A response (It’s not just a sin problem)

Paul Tautges posted an article January 5 on his blog titled What is Addiction?.

He got some things not quite right. In his attempt to show the disease model of addiction is false, he singled out alcohol addiction, or alcoholism, and Alcoholics Anonymous specifically, only he didn’t quite tell the whole story about AA.

It is true that Bill W began his journey to sobriety with the disease model. William D. Silkworth, M.D. had a theory that alcoholics have what can be described as an allergy to alcohol that most people who drink do not have, and shared this theory with Bill W. Bill thought he had the solution now that he knew what his problem was, but self-knowledge was not enough. He was unable to keep from taking that first drink until after he was visited by an old friend who had “found religion.” This friend had been part of the Oxford Group which was a Christian organization. (Summarized from “The Doctor’s Opinion” and “Bill’s Story” in Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th Edition, and Pass it On, Chapter 5.)

Bill W wrote the initial text of the Alcoholics Anonymous “Big Book” and does not reduce alcoholism to simply a physical disease, but understood that “we have been not only mentally and physically ill, we have been spiritually sick. When the spiritual malady is overcome, we straighten out mentally and physically.” (Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th Edition, page 64.) Now I am not going to write an entire response based on AA, but I will point out that it is not a “self help” program, nor is Narcotics Anonymous, or any other 12 Step based groups that help people find a way out of addiction, obsession, and co-dependence. AA developed the 12 Steps that every other 12 Step group is based on. Each of the 12 Steps is done in the order they are because each builds upon the previous step. Step 1 is admission of powerlessness, step 2 is coming to believe in a higher power for restoration to sanity, and step 3 is the “decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understand him.” They have been written such that nonbelievers as well as believers can find sobriety, but while I didn’t go through the remaining steps, they model the process of coming to faith in Jesus, and growing in sanctification. (The 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous) In fact, the AA Big Book quotes the book of James on page 76, “Faith without works is dead.” That marks the beginning of the description of making amends. After all, the alcoholic who wants to be free of his “spiritual malady” must take full responsibility for all of his or her actions that caused harm to others, and not hide behind the drink. It is not a program of “cheap grace” or “easy believism.”

One last thing before I move on. From page 60 of the AA Big Book:
“Our description of the alcoholic, the chapter to the agnostic, and our personal adventures before and after make clear three pertinent ideas:
(a) That we were alcoholic and could not manage our own lives.
(b) That probably no human power could have relieved our alcoholism.
(c) That God could and would if he were sought.”

And Step 12, “Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Paul quotes from Ed Welch’s book, Addictions: A Banquet in the Grave, “The Bible says that we first choose our addictions, and only then do our addictions choose us.” I own a few of Ed’s books, and have read 2, and found them very helpful. But that statement is not entirely true. The reason I say that is because I became an addict when I was 8 years old, and it was through absolutely no choice I made. I became an addict at my first dental appointment. Our family dentist gave me nitrous oxide (laughing gas) before he began to work on my cavities. I was not given a choice to go to the dentist. I was not given a choice whether or not to have laughing gas. But from that point on, I looked forward to going to the dentist because I loved how the laughing gas made me feel. The hallucinations didn’t even bother me.

I was 8 years old. I didn’t really know what addiction was even though I knew one of my uncles was an alcoholic. But I didn’t understand what that meant except that it involved drinking, and that was wrong because the Church Covenant hanging prominently on the front wall of the church auditorium said it was. I knew absolutely nothing about drugs. I also had a very limited concept of sin which was really just a matter of following rules so as not to get in trouble. Despite being a deacon’s kid and accepting religious teaching without question, at that point, I had no tangible concept of God. Even after coming to know Jesus at 12, I had a hard time with seeking out things that made me feel good because of a complex mixture of rigid legalism, outright false teaching, abuse, and a good dose of genetic disposition. That combination resulted in a “Don’t talk. Don’t trust. Don’t feel.” approach to life while seeking anything that would bring relief from my inner turmoil. (I did finally find that peace in Jesus, but it took me until I was in my 40s, but it took a lot of “environmental” change.)

Last semester I took a course called Substance Abuse Overview. I felt we only scratched the surface, but it is just a freshman level overview. It isn’t designed to be that in-depth. However, between it and a general psychology course, I learned quite a bit about the physiological affects of drugs in the brain. I’m going to post portions of a paper I wrote where I compared the addictiveness of marijuana to alcohol and opiates.

Dependence is defined as a physiological dependence on a drug that is marked by withdrawal symptoms when the drug is no longer taken. Addiction can be defined as both physiological and psychological dependence resulting in compulsive use of the substance. (Van Wormer and Davis, 2014). Dr. Kevin McCauley looked at the neurological factors that play a role in dependence and addiction. The frontal cortex is where our conscious selves reside with the reasoning and logic that govern our morals, spirituality, socializing, etc. His research has shown that drugs do not affect that portion of our brains, but operate on the midbrain, which is the survival portion of the brain that contains the instincts to eat, kill, and have sex. The midbrain gets sensory information before the frontal cortex. (Fifth Direction, 2015). The anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) is thought to modulate and dampen the amygdala (which is the portion of the midbrain that is the center of the base survival emotions) as it communicates with the frontal lobe. (Rhodes College, 2012). In the Olds rodent experiments, they used cocaine to discover two spots that trigger addiction in the midbrain, the ventral tegmentum and the nucleus accumbens. When the drug was administered in either of those two locations, the mice would do only the task(s) that would give them the drug. The drug goes to the top of the survival hierarchy, and they will do it to the point of death. (Fifth Direction, 2015).

Once THC is in the bloodstream, it is carried throughout the body, to each organ including the brain. (Yacoubian, 2007). Its greatest influence on addiction is due to its affect in the mesolimbic system (rewards area) of the brain much like other drugs. (Miller and Oberbarnschiedt, 2017). Once in the brain, the THC attaches to cannabinoid receptors on nerve cells (Yacoubian, 2007) due to its similarity in structure to an endogenous cannabinoid called anandamide. (NIDA, 2017). It is believed to act on the receptors much like endogenous opioids (Miller and Oberbarnschiedt, 2017). An endogenous opioid is a substance like an opiate that the body produces, such as endorphins. (endogenous opioid, n.d.) The endogenous cannabinoids, also called endocannabinoids, are produced by the body as well. The endocannabinoid system is responsible for the synthesis and degradation of endocannabinoids. They are named such due their initial identification as the neurotransmitters that activated the same receptors as the cannabinoids in marijuana, of which THC belongs. Endocannabinoid synthesis acts as “on demand” synthesis because they are not synthesized in advance and stored in vesicles the way other neuromodulators are. (Mackie, 2008). Because many of the receptors are located in the area of the brain that control pleasure (the midbrain), THC stimulates the reward system to release dopamine (Yacoubian, 2017), but at much higher levels than normal. (NIDA, 2017). THC also binds to receptors in the cerebellum and basal ganglia which affects coordination and balance. (Yacoubian, 2007). Additionally, it disrupts the hippocampus and orbitofrontal cortex which are areas that are associated with memory formation and attention. (NIDA, 2017).

Most drugs increase the level of dopamine in the rewards center of the brain (Alila Medical Media, 2014), and alcohol is no exception. It interacts with the endogenous mu opioid in the brain similarly to opiates. Alcohol also increases gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA) activity which is instrumental in the feelings of euphoria, disinhibition, anxiety reduction, and sedation with drinking. (Miller and Carroll, 2006). Interference with the neurotransmitter glutamate is believed to be a cause of “black outs,” or not being able to remember what a person did after drinking heavily. (NIAAA, 2015). Alcohol lowers the glutamate activity in the brain particularly in the N-methyl-D-aspartate (NMDA) receptor. (Gilpin and Koob, 2008). Alcohol causes increased levels of serotonin which helps regulate emotion (NIAAA, 2015), but the increase is temporary, and results in later serotonin depletion. (Gilpin and Koob, 2008). The brain adapts to the disruption of the balance, but these adaptations lead to alcohol tolerance and dependence, which result in withdrawal symptoms. Abstinence over time reverses many of the negative cognitive effects from heavy drinking. (NIAAA, 2015).

Each of the opiates, once they reach the brain from the bloodstream, attach to mu opioid receptors on opiate-sensitive neurons. Similar to THC in marijuana, opiates operate heavily in the mesolimbic (midbrain) reward center which produces more dopamine than normal. This increases the desire for the drug even in the absence of pain. With increased usage and dosage, the brain functioning is altered so that the brain functions normally when the drugs are present, but abnormally in their absence similarly to the brain’s compensation for the disruption caused by alcohol leading to tolerance and dependence. (Kosten and George, 2002).

Opiate dependence and some withdrawal occur from changes to the locus coeruleus (LC) which is located at the base of the brain. It produces a chemical called noradrenaline (NA) which when distributed stimulates many of the activities of being awake. Opiate molecules in the LC suppress NA, producing the intoxicating effects of opiates. After times of repeated presence of opiates, the LC will compensate by increasing production of NA. When the opiates are no longer in the system, the LC will continue to overproduce NA resulting in withdrawal symptoms such as jitters, anxiety, muscle cramps, and diarrhea. This is in addition to the disruptive activity in the midbrain. (Kosten and George, 2002).

With that much neurobiological interruption, the claim cannot be made that there is no biological factor to addiction and that it is purely a sin problem. The neurobiological affects strongly affect the psychological functions. The brain is a very complex organ, and it stands to reason that it would be since it is the central core of how the rest of the body functions together and how information received via our 5 senses are processed. Sin is a result of conscious choice. Not all addicts are addicted because of a conscious choice they made. Not all people who use or abuse drugs or alcohol become addicted. Regardless, addiction won’t be thrown off just because someone tells them they are just being sinful. To reduce addiction exclusively to sin can serve to burden an addict or alcoholic with shame whenever he or she is tempted to drink or use because that temptation has a biological component to it.
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References
Alila Medical Media. (2014, September 10). Mechanism of Drug Addiction in the Brain Animation [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxHNxmJv2bQ

endogenous opioid. (n.d.) Mosby’s Medical Dictionary, 8th edition. (2009). Retrieved from https://medical-dictionary.thefreedictionary.com/endogenous+opioid

Fifth Direction. (2015, June 25). Is Addiction Really a Disease? Dr. Kevin McCauley [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2emgrRoT2c

Gilpin, N. W., & Koob, G. F. (2008). Neurobiology of Alcohol Dependence: Focus on Motivational Mechanisms. Alcohol Research & Health, 31(3), 185–195.

Kosten, T. R., & George, T. P. (2002). The Neurobiology of Opioid Dependence: Implications for Treatment. Science & Practice Perspectives, 1(1), 13–20.

Mackie, K. (2008), Cannabinoid Receptors: Where They are and What They do. Journal of Neuroendocrinology, 20: 10–14. doi:10.1111/j.1365-2826.2008.01671.x

Miller, N. S., & Oberbarnschiedt, T. (2017). Current medical and legal status for smoked “medical marijuana” and addiction. Psychiatric Annals, 47(6), 335-340. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.3928/00485713-20170424-01

NIAAA. (2015, October). Beyond Hangovers: understanding alcohol’s impact on your health. NIH Publication No. 15-7604. Retrieved from https://pubs.niaaa.nih.gov/publications/Hangovers/beyondHangovers.pdf

NIDA. (2017, August 1). Marijuana. Retrieved from https://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/drugfacts/marijuana

Rhodes College. (2012, October 9). Steven Schlozman – “How to Inadvertently Learn Some Neuroscience…” [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sM2oUPgymJ8&t=1s

Van Wormer, K., & Davis, D. (2014). Addiction Treatment: A Strengths Perspective (4th Ed.). Boston, MA: Cengage Learning.

Yacoubian, G.S. (2007). Assessing the relationship between marijuana availability and marijuana use: A legal and sociological comparison between the United States and the Netherlands. Journal of Alcohol and Drug Education, 51(4), 17-34. Retrieved from https://login.proxy033.nclive.org/login?url=https://search.proquest.com/docview/217439225?accountid=9994

End of 2017

2016 was the year I became cynical and disillusioned. This was the year I said it out loud and made it my tagline.

Now I know that the change in year means nothing more than me continuing to write 2017 for the year until at least February. Nothing is going to happen at midnight tonight that is different from any other time of the day or day of the month or day of the year.

It’s just another day. Albeit a day that I don’t have to go to work and yet still get paid.

I did a word for the year this year after swearing I’d never do that. My word was contentment.

I wrote these verses on an index card and put it on my bathroom mirror:

But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. 1 Timothy 6:6-7

Y’all, I had some tough stuff this year. Kind of like the last 4. No, more like 8. Maybe 9. But this was the year I grew some stunted emotions. It’s really tough to go through hard stuff and feel it.

Good stuff happened, too, and I took a great big leap going back to school with the goal of changing careers. AT MY AGE! I have to say that because it was earlier this year that I said to Petra, “I can’t start a new career at my age,” and she called me out on my crap. I certainly stressed on it a lot, but unlike most college classes I’ve taken in my life – undergraduate and graduate – I did not lose interest in any of my classes during the semester. I think that is a good sign that I picked the right major this time.

It’s unlikely that I will make it to midnight. It’s just not a goal of mine anymore. Sleep is way more valuable to me.

Here’s to the new year! It won’t be a new me, but I’m going to start it off with a new yoga mat and a return to some older, but healthy habits I had before my facade fell apart.

It’s been a while

I was told today that I haven’t blogged in months. Technically that’s true, but it’s only been two and half months. These things happen when you go back to school full time while you’re working full time. Ain’t nobody got time for blogging! But I have gotten caught up(ish), and I’m going to take a few minutes to throw out some non-pot stirring things.

These boys crossed the rainbow bridge at the end of July. I fully expected one or the other of them to not come back from the vet. I did not expect neither to come home. I haven’t cried over an animal since I was very young. I didn’t even shed a tear a few years ago when I found Darci in the road, and she was my girl. I cried over these boys for 2 days, and decided I finally grew all of my emotions.

I went to DC in August. I promised my family for years that I would take them, and this was me fulfilling that promise. Chad backed out a couple days before, so I will probably still take him sometime. Or send him if his friend can meet him there. This wasn’t my first time, though, and I made Jamie take a picture with me at the Marine Corps Memorial just as I had done with my mom in 2000.

We went Arlington National Cemetery, but I ended up going to JFK’s grave and the Tomb of the Unknown by myself. As I was walking up that last hill to the Tomb of the Unknown, I realized I had made a huge mistake. I was sure I would make it up there, but that I would never make it back to the entry. As I was walking up to the Tomb, I heard a bunch of clicking and I knew what it was that I was hearing, and stepped up my pace. I just happened to get there for the end of the changing of the guard. That was pretty stinking cool!

If you’ve never been, you can’t grasp the size of Arlington unless you are there in it. And I was able to make it back without having to find a ranger to rescue me.

I took the above photo from the WW2 Memorial and thought to myself, “Jenny ran though this?!?”

I got to have dinner with my friends Michele, Heidi, and Todd while I was there. Darrel couldn’t make it because I forgot to tell them all until the week of and he already had plans.

Labor Day weekend I flew home to AR for a birthday celebration. There were 3 “big” birthdays right together and my cousin Sharon (who turned the big 50) threw a shindig. It was really nice for so many of us to get together without it being for a funeral. Our parents came from large families that came from large families so there are a bunch of us. This is just a few of the girls:

I’m not sure who took that, but I stole it from Sharon’s Facebook.

Almost a month ago, Evie started having seizures out of the blue. I took her to the emergency vet, dropped way more money than I ever thought I would drop on an old dog, and she was in such bad shape, we let her go. I cried after talking to the day vet the next day (before we made the decision). I cried a little bit every day after that for 3 or 4 days. And then I melted down when I went to pick up her ashes.

She was a puker, but aside from that, she was the absolutely sweetest dog ever.

Chad finally got his driver’s license, so now when he writes “milk” on the white board, I give him $5 and tell him to go get it himself. Unlike Jamie, he is quite happy to go get stuff I send him for.

And back to that whole thing about going to school full time while I’m working full time?

I will NOT take 4 classes next semester. I spend a crazy amount of time at Starbucks because I cannot get homework done at home. I have never wanted to clean and organize so much as I have since school started.

Oh, and I got a tattoo.

Why do you go to church?

“Why do you go to church? What is your main purpose of showing up? (not collectively, you personally)

I was asked this question sometime before Christmas, and my initial reply was, “Way to ask me a question I’m not sure I want to answer.” This was following a discussion where I vomited out my distrust of Baptist churches, megachurches, and celebrity pastors (and other celebrity Christian leaders ie James Dobson, Jerry Falwell, Jr, Franklin Graham, Mike Huckabee, etc).

So why do I?

“But I know if I don’t go, I’m going to drift back out into the wilderness riding on my self-righteousness. Still, if I wasn’t serving, I don’t know if I would go. Even though I don’t ever regret going.”

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. Hebrews 10:23-25 ESV

I went to church during the Christmas season even though I wasn’t serving. But in full disclosure, it was largely because my friend Stacey was singing again and I was NOT going to miss her first Sunday back with the worship team. And our campus pastor was preaching, so it was like a double bonus. And I thoroughly enjoyed the entire experience from arrival to departure. Pastor Trent mentioned early in his sermon about our campus feeling like home, which the sermon series wass “Home for Christmas,” so it stands to reason. But as I thought of it, I thought, “Yeah, this church has always felt like coming home.” I have always felt welcomed. I have always felt “a part of.” I have made many friends there, some very close.

Through the course of the sermon on the older brother in the story of the prodigal son, Trent pointed out that we can do all the right things, but if we are doing it for the wrong reasons, it’s just as much of a sin as the “obvious” sins. (I greatly paraphrased that.) I can attest personally to that as the “good little Baptist girl.” Though I was just really good at hiding the “obvious” sins. Anyway, as he wrapped up he said, “If the only place Jesus has led you is to church, you might be following religion and not Jesus.” That didn’t complicate my attempt to answer why I go to church at all. (That was sarcasm which doesn’t always come through in written form.)

When I was a kid, I went to church because I had to. My parents’ rule was, “As long as you live under our roof, you will go to church.” Because they did not further qualify that statement at the time, and because I was already a master at finding loopholes (when I began writing this, I had just had a convo about that with one of my blunt friends), this good little Baptist girl went to Roman Catholic mass with her best friend for several months. Granted, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to go to church, I just decided I didn’t want to go to the one I thought I wanted to go to when we moved to town. (That’s a whole story in itself that I’ve probably written about before.) But I eventually found a Baptist church where I felt “a part of,” and that’s where my relationship with church started going wonky.

I loved that church. I went on my own without coercion, though a lot of that was because I had a couple of good friends there. But I felt “at home” beyond that. There was no “air” in the air there. Just a bunch of ordinary folks. Until we moved into the new building. I don’t know if there is a correlation. That’s been many years ago, and I was just a teen. But it was after we moved that I heard the thing that caused me to leave. I don’t remember how long it was after we had moved to the new building, but I vividly remember the openly racist sermon. That was the Sunday that church was no longer home because if ALL of my friends were not welcome there – white AND black – then neither was I. I walked away for many years. When I started going back to church it was for a lot of wrong reasons. But I found a church that felt like family, that wasn’t lily-white, and was Baptist. I got burned again because there was so much dysfunction due to factions with control issues. And when a faction tries to control a control freak who hasn’t yet learned that a controlling nature is a character defect, there’s going to be acting out. And I acted out. And then I quit. And I think I have been to a certain degree shunned.

I went into the next church search leery. However, it wasn’t a long search before I found another church that felt like home, and I went all in. I did it because despite all the issues at the previous church, I had a fresh encounter with Jesus, and it changed everything. Slowly though, because I still have a lot of issues.

I still have a lot of religious resentment. I don’t know for sure if that is why I am having such a hard time answering that question. I’m not entirely certain of my motives. I love my church. I love serving there. But sometimes I question if I made the right decision in choosing my church. I know I don’t have to go to church to worship God. I can worship Him anytime because He isn’t confined to a gathering of believers nor a building (and a church is the people, not the building). I have believing friends outside of church who are blunt and have no problem calling me out for my self-righteousness, so I don’t need church for accountability. I can listen to sermon podcasts anytime. Every “good” reason I can think of for why I would go to church can be accomplished outside of church.

So at this point, I have pretty much talked myself out of going period. I mean, why go at all when I don’t have to go? I occurred to me that there is something that I can only participate in at church. Communion. Generally all Christians believe that there are only 2 sacraments that are instituted by a “local, visible” body of believers, and that is baptism and the Lord’s Supper (communion). I could argue the baptism with the accounts of Cornelius and the Ethiopian Eunuch, but it is not relevant. Besides, I’ve already been baptized – twice. But communion was always done in a context among a group of believers gathered together to commemorate Jesus’ sacrifice as the once for all Passover lamb. Yeah, I could show up at a church just for that (and I’m not going to go into the whole open/closed communion debate), but from Jesus instituting the practice at Passover before his crucifixion to throughout the epistles, communion was done among a group of believers who knew each other. While I just popped off with the argument for closed communion, I don’t think the point of commemorating the Lord’s Supper with a local church you are a member of was to be implemented as a legalistic requirement. Because my dad and I are living proof that you can go to the same church every time the doors open and still be covering up sin. But I digress. I believe the point of doing it local with folks you know is for the community aspect of it. Communing with fellow believers in commemoration of the one thing we all share in common: Jesus, and Him crucified.

For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.

If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.

But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.

Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, helping, administrating, and various kinds of tongues. 1 Corinthians 12:12-13, 19-20, 24-28

If I make going to church about what I get from it, I make it all about me. This is not what Christ calls us to. Following Him is not a self-centered, self-focused endeavor. If we are to be followers of Christ, if we are being remade into the image of Jesus, then our lives should reflect a desire to serve others. And since I am a member of the body of Christ, it stands to reason that I have a role to play that benefits the entire body. I have been uniquely gifted, just like my brothers and sisters, to serve the body. This is perhaps why I love to serve in the capacity I do. And so I guess ultimately, this is why I go to church.