When we Believe - Miracles Do Happen

by Sharon L. Holliday

I'm aware of many miracles in my life today!

The first is my 19-year-old daughter, who has grown into a wonderful, loving young woman. I'm grateful for the gift of her unconditional love.

We often speak about how she's learned from my experiences. In my recovery, she's been my anchor & I believe that with her insight & her understanding, I'm able to receive yet another miracle today.

Choices
Some years ago, I arrived in California with the intention of getting well & then returning to my family. I had to choose between staying here to remain well or returning home & risking that the cycle would start again. I searched my soul & decided to stay & continue with my self-recovery & self-discovery.

When I didn't return, my husband became outraged & he divorced me. He made communication with my son impossible.

My daughter (from my first marriage) was struggling with the pressure she felt. He questioned her loyalties & played mind games with her.

She became confused & depressed. The situation became unbearable for my children & I couldn't allow it to continue. My daughter felt she had no other choice but to move out.  

Unfortunately, my son was to remain with his father. I wasn't able to speak with him during this time.

After several years of constant turmoil with my son's father, I returned to the Midwest to appear in court & fight for custody. I was able to receive an immediate visit with supervision before court. When I arrived at court, joint custody was the ruling with one condition - I return to the Midwest.

I felt if I moved back, I'd be jeopardizing myself, my recovery & my children's future. I knew that being new to recovery & not having a support system in the Midwest, I'd be treading dangerous ground. I cried to God, for help!

I feared I'd lose my son forever & this broke my heart! I needed to find a way to share in my son's life & still keep my sanity. I returned to California, seeking safety & serenity in order to make my decision.

Acceptance

When I reflected on the visit with my son, I had feelings of comfort & relief. I was able to express my love for him & let him know that my feelings would never change, regardless of where I live. However, once I returned to California, the games began again.  

All I knew at this point was that my son's well-being was suffering & I was miserable. I became depressed & I felt defeated. Hearing his pain when I called was too much to bear. He, too, had become the trophy & the insanity had to stop.

I turned it over to God & found peace. I accepted that I had to take care of me in order to be prepared for the time when my son would be back in my life. I realized right then that I hadn't been defeated.

What has helped my children thru the years is being able to spend time together. My daughter is able to express my love to him & this gives all of us comfort & hope.

Another year has passed since I last spoke with my son & just recently, my daughter shared a conversation she had with her stepfather. He asked her to contact me. He wished to speak with me, concerning my son. I was fearful, but I had to know if my son was all right.

Truth

I took the risk & contacted my ex-husband. I heard peace in his voice replacing the anger that used to be there. He realizes now that my son's needs are what are important. He wants our son to be happy & knows that, without his mother sharing his life, he will not be.  

We both agreed that with time, patience & honest communication, we'd be able to work together for our son.

I then spoke with my son & hearing his voice, my heart soared. I finally felt complete. My hope is to rebuild a relationship with my son. I know I can't get back the years we've missed, however, we can start with today.

For whatever reason he was able to reach out to my daughter, I'll always be grateful.

I always believed that when I was ready to share in my son's life, God would help me find a way! This gave me the courage I needed to continue working in my recovery. I believed that I'd always done what was best for my children.

My story about Anorexia

Ninety pounds. Finishing the muffin I had for lunch, I sit in the corner of the couch with a blanket covering my body. My dad walks past to the kitchen without noticing (look for the power of noticing) me. This happens frequently; he just doesn't see me.

A cool wind blows past stuck with it a scent of emotion. My body can't get comfortable on the seat, with my bones so cold & poking my skin. I'm lost, hidden in my own off-world. Everything is okay in my off-world; it's warm & comforting.

Dinner time. Again? I'm not hungry.

I lay in bed, trying to sleep. Tossing & turning, curling up into a fetal ball, I can't get warm. My legs & arms fall asleep therefore I stretch myself out on my back. I lay there with my hands resting in the slope between my hips & stomach, my arms tight to my side.

Each breath & heartbeat, is slow & mucky. I quickly get up to run to the resort for the third time.

Breakfast. I can't eat now, too nervous.  

I step on the scale, naked & shivering. Eighty-nine pounds. Not too bad, still have that stomach though! Walking the long path to the building I pant & feel exhausted, wanting to sleep right there on the sidewalk, if only it were warm.

I glance in the 3 way mirror. I can see my back, my ribs & spine all looking back at me. My butt sagging. I look close to the mirror, my skin translucent. There are purple circles around my eyes. I've lost more than half my hair. What's happened?

I can't eat without staring at the food. I pick it apart & push it around my plate. I can't keep up with all the rules I have for myself. I constantly break them anyway. I'm horrid even to myself. I did this, I deserve the punishment. It's all my fault. How [the hell] will I tell my parents?

I sit on the cold hard metal medical bed with a sheet of paper covering it, rehearsing over & over what I'll say to the doctor. A woman comes in to weigh me & take my blood pressure. One hundred pounds. "When was your last period?" She asked.

"Eight months ago." She proceeded to ask if I'd been pregnant or sick. "God, you're not throwing up are you?" Of course not, that never worked.

I sit & wait more for the doctor, rehearsing again what I'd tell her, feeling quite defeated by the comments of the previous woman. Finally she comes & tells me, yes, it's Anorexia Nervosa.

The Consequences of Job Loss

There are at least 2 primary aspects to job loss:

• "practical" reality
• "emotional" reality

In the first case, job loss also means loss of income & benefits. In the second, there are equally real emotional consequences:

• effect upon self image
• emotional difficulties
• fears about the future 
• concerns about how we may be seen by others

The Work of Recovery & Rebuilding

The chances are that people will find a new job. It may not be their 1st choice, but it'll resolve the practical realities. But a new job doesn't necessarily lead to a satisfactory outcome, financially or emotionally. Regardless of the new job, emotional issues may not be at all resolved.

Unresolved issues may significantly affect the way in which people see themselves. In turn, this will directly influence the way they approach finding a new job, what they'll accept for employment & how they settle into their new job & lifestyle. Accordingly, part of the work in job loss recovery is dealing with the emotional consequences.