I received one of the most stunning compliments of my life. I lectured a few times to the residential folks at my job. I got done presenting about communications skills and developing boundaries. I usually have a few people that will hang around and chat with me about something in particular they want to know how to approach or handle. In the line of people was one of the staff members. I had noticed that she was coming to monitor the ladies while I am presenting. It's hard to crowd control and talk at the same time. I was pretty sure she was going to tell me that there wasn't enough staff to continue to have a person in with me. That was actually fine because I take a very hard line with people when I present. If you don't want to be here, fine, then sit in the corner and be quiet so those who want to be here can listen. After following through and asking 3 people to leave, they know I am serious and fall immediately into line. So I was prepared to say, that's fine, I won't need a staff with me anymore.

http://www.esquire.com/blogs/food-for-men/things-not-to-say-to-a-sober-person?src=soc_fcbks

On June 22, 2009, I was laid off from a nursing job. I had left the long-term care position I had previously because I had started dating my supervisor. (Yes, Yes, bad idea....but I pursued other employment to avoid being fired for fraternizing).  I knew things with this job weren't going well. I had been hired on in anticipation of a contract with a company. Well, 6 months into this position, the contract never happened and I knew I was on borrowed time. 

Even the nursing arena had been hit hard in 2008-2009. I must have applied for 20 to 25 jobs in the first two weeks I was laid off. I had limited savings and got a severance package that kept me going for about a month. I had a job for a week in July 2009. It was so horrible that for the first time in my life, I just walked out. When I met with the director on the way out door, she wasn't surprised. She knew this place was dysfunctional. During that week, however, I got notification that I had been selected for an interview in the transplant center (which I had applied for on 06/22/2008...just hearing back in July with an interview scheduled in August). While it was almost 2 months after that email, I got the job and I was so excited by the whole thing. 

It was in the fall of 2009 that I was beginning to spiral into the final stages of addiction. I was still drinking almost every day. I couldn't wait until the day time orientation was completed so I could get back to nights. The schedule allowed me to work 7 days on, 7 days off. Overnights, 12 hours, etc. etc. When I started initially, I was able to not drink in between my 12 hour shifts for a few months. My addiction, however, had progressed to a point where it was no longer physically possible for me NOT to drink almost daily. I started drinking in between shifts in December of 2009. I would go into work hung over but I didn't work with anyone at that point so it didn't really matter. With this schedule, 1 day per rotation, I worked from home for 24 hours. In January 2010, I could no longer make it through that 24 hours without drinking. I knew in my deepest conscious that I needed to do something. I was just so scared. I would start drinking at the end of that 24 hour shift as soon as I could. It was getting bad.

In January 2010, I was drinking over a liter of rum a day. I was unable to eat. I would shake like a tree if I couldn't get something to drink within 4-5 hours of waking up. I showed up one night at work on a day I wasn't supposed to be there. I worked Thursday through Thursday and ended up showing up on a  Wednesday because I couldn't figure out exactly what day it was when I woke up. I was literally confused and decided to go into work. After being there for 2 hours, I had to page my supervisor and tell him that I wasn't supposed to be working that day. He knew I sounded off but didn't think much of it. Things happen, you know.

On February 8th, 2010, I was admitted to detox for the first time. I finally reached out for help and my Mom stepped in to get me where I needed to be which was the ER. I was admitted with a blood alcohol level of 0.27. I had not had a drink for approximately 4 hours when I took this. The doctor told me with the amount I was drinking, I likely peaked out at 0.38-0.40. I was still coherent, chatting away, feeling pretty good actually. I didn't know that I was going to be admitted. I was admitted a few days before I was due back for my work. I needed to call my boss and tell her that I was in detox and I really wanted to go to treatment when I was done. I knew if I went back home, I would be right back at it.

I called my boss from a secluded corner in the dining area with my hand cupped over the receiver as if that was going to make a difference in the conversation I was about to have. My boss picked up the phone and it a quiet voice - "Hi Cathy, this is Julie, your night LPN. Ummm....well, I am in the hospital...." I heard a motherly gasp in her voice and she asked what happened and am I OK. I started to tear up and said "Cathy, I have a drinking problem and I need to go to treatment." She immediately responded "Julie, you do what you need to do, I will take everything on our side. We will put you on leave, I won't tell anyone what's going on. You go and take care of yourself." Now, by this point, I was just bawling, feeling like this whole situation just got real. "Honey, you call me if you can and  tell me how you are doing. If you don't want to, don't worry about it, call me when you are ready to come back.  We love you, OK?"

Little did I know that my boss had a lot of experience with addiction and she turned out to me one of my biggest cheerleaders out there. She respected my privacy. After returning to work after being out for 6 weeks, not one person in that office knew what had happened. As far as they knew, I was on a medical leave, I would be coming back and that's it. Even through my relapses, she was extremely supportive of me. When I was placed in the HPSP program, she took her job as my clinical supervisor very seriously. She was diligent about reporting what she saw. She made accommodations to my schedule so that I could attend DBT for a year and go to intensive outpatient treatment for 12 weeks. I think she might have taken my sobriety more seriously than I did at this point.

I have felt tremendously loyal to my LPN position within transplant. Because my boss was so flexible about my needs and prioritized my health and safety over many things, I always wanted to be the strong and reliable employee. I wanted to show her that I could do it. I wanted her to be proud of me. As I let my guard down with others about my addiction, I found that I had some wonderful  co-workers who supported me in anyway that they could. During on of my relapses, I paged my favorite doctor that I worked with.....ummm....not the brightest idea, but it happened. When I called her to tell her what was going on and that I had relapsed, she told me "Julie, after this, we are never going to talk about this again. There is no need to apologize. I was honored that you thought I could help you....." 

Over the past few years, we have had a lot of changes.  My boss was no longer my boss and I had 2 or 3 new ones until recently. The position I created and stayed in for 3 years was terminated which was actually the right thing to do. I really loved that position though. It was at this time in late 2012, I saw the writing on the wall and had left the full time position to pursue school. Again, my new supervisor was able to figure out a way to keep me on as a casual employee. Then, when I had a semester of chaos, I was able to return to work full time for the summer. Time and time again, there has been a lot of accommodations that were made for me, and for that I have felt a tremendous amount of debt and gratitude.

Since finishing school, I have continued to limp on in this position. I have become increasingly unhappy and itching to move on in my new career. Despite the fact that I mostly get love from my co-workers, there are some that remain difficult at best. I don't work for any particular group. I am often detached because I work scarce hours. I was hoping to be in a position to develop another position; however, looking at where I am right now, I think I would benefit from some more experience than I currently have in order to do what I proposed. Additionally, I have worked as an LPN for the past 5 years and it would take a lot of effort to develop the credibility within my own peers. I don't really have the desire or energy to fight for my credentials. 

Yesterday, I submitted my notice to the transplant center. My last day will be 08/01/2014. I will be terminating my employment one month shy of 5 years. This job has been the longest stretch of continuous employment I have had in my life. I often time leave jobs after 6-12 months. Mainly, my job-hopping had to do with my drinking. If I thought people were getting too close, I would just leave. The jobs were plentiful and I had the luxury of being about to do wander around at my will. Not only, then, am I leaving this organization, I am also transitioning out of nursing which is exactly the reason that I went back to school in the first place. I plan to keep my license active and may continue to work as a private duty nurse for  "fun" money. My wish is that my LPN career ends with transplant. I told people at the beginning of my employment "It doesn't get any cooler than transplant and this will be my last job as an LPN". I had that instinct many years ago, and still feel that way today. While I am sad about leaving, I believe that I am ending my career and my time at the transplant center on a complete high. I accomplished many things - I got sober, I got my mental health stabilized, I learned more than I could ever have imagined, I have met some of the coolest people I know and I was able to finally stick to a job - and do it well.

So, in August, I will end my time in transplant. When I hit the "SEND" button on the email to my boss, I do have to admit that I had a huge sense of relief. I have sort of felt like the house guest that had overstayed my welcome. I know that what I do for them now is appreciated and helpful; however, it does not do the same thing for me like my other job. My dedication to them was slowly fading and I was struggling to keep my commitment to them. I will never ever forget my time there and I still believe in my heart of hearts that it was because of this job and my then-supervisor, I got sober. I finally found a job that I wanted to get better for (among other things of course). I believe God had a hand in all of this. Had it not been for the flexibility that had been granted to me, I would not have been able to invest the time into getting sober that I needed. I would have been back to job hopping and continuing to spiral down until something majorly catastrophic happened (i.e. a patient being harmed from my negligence, etc.). 

I am a firm believer that "I am where I am because I need to be here right now." Now, I have a full time offer being worked up as we speak as an addictions counselor with my other job. I threw out some applications for on call LADCs or on call LPNs. I got 3 call backs already for interviews. Should I need that second job for a few months, I know that I can get something lined up. I threw this whole situation over to God (doin' some 3rd step work here....) and I just know, not just feel, but know that God will take care of me.

Take care all and have a wonderful rest of the week!
Julie

I have really started getting into the job at my treatment center. I am in charge of the community outpatient program and float around in the residential setting helping where I can. I accepted an "on-call/casual" position with them. I wasn't sure that I was going to like it. Much to my pleasure, I love it. Really, really love it. I am lecturing, sharing my knowledge, teaching, learning, etc. etc. At the end of May, I was trying to figure out what I should do. Should I pursue a full time position with them? What about my nursing job and the "maybe" offer of something in the future?

I am working in a community outpatient program these days. I have changed from working with men to women. In both cases, I had my own assumptions about both populations assuming that men would be harder to work with than women. I also assumed that I would be able to identify with the problems of women easier than those of men. Well, as always, one should never assume anything. 

When I worked with the guys, we talked a lot about integrity and "doing the next right thing". I held my group to a high standard. If you didn't want to be there, say it and then be quiet for those who do want to be here. If you want to be here, you are going to have to get honest and stand face to face with the issues that brought you to treatment. I expected and demanded of my group to be the example for the other men on the floor. I challenged them to do "the next right thing" for your recovery. If there is a fight, walk away. If you are insulted by another person, turn the other cheek and don't engage. If there is distress, reach out a hand of support. I was lucky, in a lot of way, I had men who tried and were willing to do just this on a daily basis. They were often excited to tell me how they did the next right thing and it was a life changer. I simply reminded them, I am not going to change your life, you are. 

When I changed my focus to women, I realized I couldn't challenge them to the "next right thing" in terms of integrity like the men. Mainly, because my women were always doing the next right thing.....for someone else. There is so much external focus on pleasing the outside world that my challenge would translate into additional burdens on an already spent soul. So, when one of my client's mentioned, "I just want to do the next right thing" I asked her what that meant to her. She replied it had to do with doing the next thing that would take her further down her road of recovery and re-establish her relationship with God. In essence, the next right thing for her was to take care of HERSELF and not the rest of the world around her. When we throw these words around in group, I try to keep that perspective in my mind - take care of self, not others. I have mothers, young mothers, abused women, women with little or no self-esteem. Then, I have the strong, street tough women who are literally afraid of NOTHING, because they have been to hell and seen the worse of the worse. There is no sense in working from an angle of "dying from overdose" or fear mongering as it were. In their minds, they have looked death in the face and it looks more appealing some days than continuing with this life. They are fighters and survivors. They have always been doing "the next right thing" to stay alive and intact. 

I went to church today and the sermon really touched on this concept of going into hell and helping. When I made my trip to Honduras, getting on the ground and touching the people was what I had been searching for as far as helping my fellow brothers and sisters. It made me realize all the hurt, pain, hunger, abuse, homelessness and sadness that are happening in my own backyard. I think of the beggars on the corners at almost every intersection I drive through on my way to and from work. I think of the homeless man sleeping in the park across the street from the treatment center. I see the men and women being pushed out of the underpasses of bridges by my freeway entrance. These are my people. These are the people I want to help. I want o help them break the cycle of addiction, incarceration, abuse, homelessness and violence. There is a local church that has people going out on cold nights and getting the homeless into their shelters for the night. There is a church by the treatment center that feeds the homeless every night at 5pm. In order to feel like I am doing the next right thing, I feel this inner desire and passion to be on the ground, working in the trenches to lift others to their full potential. 

MAM and I went out to lunch today and during our conversation she mentioned her trip through Tennessee with a church on just about every corner. She asked "If there are this many churches, why are there still homeless people?" Oh, such a true statement. If every church were doing what St. Stephen's is doing, homelessness would be substantially reduced. Right? Why is this a problem that is turned away from? In my own personal opinion, people who are homeless are seen as less. They are "junkies", "vagabonds", "losers", "moochers". They are scary and dirty. They are dangerous and unpredictable. In fact, most of the time, they are rarely regarded as people. Very few people see the homeless for what they really are - people who are addicted to drugs or alcohol, people who are severely undertreated for mental health conditions, people who were never given the opportunity to break the cycle of poverty, people who are simply people with bigger problem than our own. 

Many of the women and men I have worked with over the past 6 months have come from the streets. What I see from these individuals are people fighting on a daily basis for their lives. In the winter months this year, we were busting at the seams with the amount of people seeking treatment, many of them because it was a warm place to stay. That was fine with me because those individuals stayed sober at a higher rate than some of those who had a home to go to. Instead of whining about having to get up at 6:30am for breakfast, they were just happy for breakfast. The whole treatment aspect was just a bonus. We were able to establish other services that allowed them to continue to their sober journey off of the streets and get some education/job training. When they complete the year long program, they will be able to work, be sober and find a place to live. When I work with these clients, I often think of a quote from Fight Club, "It is not until we have lost everything, we are free to do anything." These clients are not bound by the opinion of others. They are not bound by the worry of losing more. Life can only move up from here if they choose to engage in recovery. They are bound by the hope of not going back to the streets. 

Since I have started working with the women, I have felt a higher level of satisfaction, career wise, than ever before. Don't ever get me wrong, transplant is pretty dang cool and I work for the center that takes the "rejected" patient from a nationally known facility because we would rather try and give them a chance at life than fully reject their only options for a life. So, in a way, I am glad to be working for that center. However, even at the best of nights, I still felt a lack of something. I believe I had anticipated as a nurse that I would be on the front line in helping other people. I believe I do that, but not to the degree that fulfills a higher calling. I said in a blog entry long ago, I really feel like there is something big for me in the field of addictions. It is starting now with this current job. When I stand on the stage, in front of the classroom or in the middle of my group, I feel like we are working together for the common goal of sobriety and reducing the stigma of addiction. My actions in those places are me. I stand before and with families and addicts and model the behavior of recovery. I have a relationship with my Higher Power as I understand Him. I am not afraid to talk about, nor do I really care what you think of it. I stand with my head high and say "Hi, my name is Julie and I am an alcoholic". 

The 12th step reads: Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs. So in my immediate world, doing the next right thing is this step. In the past 2-3 months, I have had what I would call a spiritual awakening. Something awoke in my spirit recently that tells me I have the ability and strength to carry my message of hope to others suffering from addiction. God gave me this gift of public speaking and this ability to write. I often wanted to be a writer or a speaker and thought "what would I write about?" Well, my biggest secret, my biggest failure (so I thought), my strongest anchor in not moving forward - addiction. Now my addiction is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I was able to strip myself of the shame. I was able to reach out on a whole new level to people. I have been able to be an ear to the readers of this blog. Many people over the past 2 years have reached out to me personally to talk about how addiction is currently affecting them or someone in their lives. I first set out to write a blog about getting sober. Well, ladies and gents, it has turned into my very own website and possibly the makings of something bigger than I could have imagined. 

The message from church today was to start small. When you see a need, meet that need if you are able. I have done that here and there over the years through my nursing and some volunteer activities. That is where is started for me and now that I have stumbled onto something where I can touch 10-80 lives a day? It's the best.

Peace Out
J