More than once in every person's life, it becomes appropriate to pause, reflect on your life and consider making changes. Being at one of those points, I began looking backward at my life.

Concurrently, I came across a scrap of paper on which I'd written, "No matter how you tell your story, that's never the whole story." I'm sure that little gem of brilliant thinking (yeah, gee. nobody else ever thought of that before, did they?!) arose from an encounter with my daughter's version of our shared reality— i.e., her childhood. Her narrative and mine seem completely unrelated in many instances, another  rare occurrence between mother and daughter, right?

Anyway, as an exercise, I began to write a "memoir" that included only the events I actually remembered and left out all the stories/reminiscences the family has told through the years that become so ingrained they may pass for memory for many years.

I'm not ready to draw any hard and fast conclusions from this exercise — I'm only up to about age 5 so far — although I will say that already a pattern has emerged. This pattern consists of being abandoned in the grip of terror.

I do not, however, leap directly to searching for someone to blame. Having been blessed with some years in recovery and the opportunity to discover a whole new perspective on the people who participated intimately in my early life, I remain open-minded/undecided about whether painful abandonment is the reality or simply the way my personality rolls. It seems a good idea to let the indecision stand. Let me uncover more memories vs. stories before I make up my mind. (And perhaps the answer will be some third or fourth possibility, instead of a poor-me personality or a cold, heartless mother.)

Wait and see? No need to erect a rock-hard opinion and defend it to the death? What a change that is from the family of my childhood, who fervently believed and judged everything as right or wrong. There was only one right way to do anything, only one right way to act. Only one right way to feel, too, apparently, since I DO remember being told many times, "No, you don't" after expressing how I felt about something.

Only now, after some years in Al-Anon recovery, do I see how ridiculous, obscene, dismaying and demeaning that is. I love new clothes. No, you don't. I admire those who sacrifice to fight injustice. No, you don't. I hate winter. No, you don't.

The other thing that occurs to me now about my childhood memories of being left to drown in fear is that I didn't drown. Regardless of who or what "caused"those painful times being the only recollections of that childhood, I felt overcome...but in the end, I overcame. Maybe I was left (or left myself) to drown, but I learned to swim through my fear, to find a shore on which to stand.

What do I want for Christmas?

Someone near and dear asked this yesterday. Well, actually he asked "Is there anything you want for Xmas?" By this time in our relationship, I know better than to respond with anything but a casual, "No." Or "Can't think of anything." The ROI on any other answer is a losing proposition.

But the question got me thinking. If anyone asked me what I wanted for Christmas and really wanted to listen to MY answer, what would I say? I'm past the age of desiring some THING or believing that owning some THING will change my life or make me deliriously happy for more than ten minutes. So what do I want? Nothing? Do I already have everything I want?

My answer came to me pretty quickly, a surprise because I tend these days to strive for an inchoate internal state of being. I used to love feeling deeply, strongly and purposefully. I dove into the depths of despair with the confidence of a Michael Phelps—I thought I could swim through those depths and would win something as a result. A medal perhaps that would exempt me from any more despair. I LOVED loving people. It was a wondrously good feeling to make them feel cared about. I managed to be altruistic about it for quite some time, until a little part of me timidly suggested to myself that I might deserve some "caring about" too and noticed I didn't get it.

Givers label themselves and takers are quite content to let those labels stand. The ideal might be standing in the middle of those two options, being one or the other at varying and appropriate times. My friends these days are in that group, as am I. At least, I try to be. A few relatives...well, we all have a relative or six we must accept and deal with even though we wouldn't choose them as friends.

Sorry, rambling. Back to the question and my answer. My first snap thought was "to be loved." Which explains, of course, why my marriage was so volatile in the first decade and a half. I wanted to be loved the way I wanted to be loved. But, stupid me—I didn't marry me. I married the other half of a whole, so in those deepest parts of our being, we differ. Profoundly, though not even the marriage counselor seemed to see it. The counselor did help us broker a peace that has lasted and learning acceptance in a 12-step way cemented satisfaction with that peace. I know I am loved. I recognize that bringing me coffee in the morning and not nagging me to take back some of the cooking is him loving me.

But there is still an unfilled, hungry place inside. So I continued to think about the question and now I think I know the layer of answer below that last answer.

Is there anything you want for Xmas?

Yes. I want to feel lovable.

What the hell does that mean?

It means that showing me I'm loved would be important enough to elicit some free-will effort to find out what I consider being loved looks like and doing that. It seems to me that lovable people are those we feel deserve to have their wishes understood and attempts made to fill them, without handing out a bill for services afterward. (You know, that "sure, buy the dress, but I'm having the guys over to watch football" commerce. Or "okay, we'll have Xmas with your folks this year, but then you have to quit bugging me about printing your photos all the time.") Being willing to leave our easy comfort zone, without a single whimper about oh! the sacrifice! or demand for applause, to make a lovable person happy. A lovable person doesn't have to justify any like or source of pleasure, enjoyment or fulfillment before others will participate in or deliver opportunities for same.

Is it too much to ask?

Probably yes. It is a BIG request. But if you believe that lovable people can ask for what they want and as often as not will generate an effort from others on their behalf, it's not an unreasonable request.

Unless, as I have secretly feared since early, early childhood, I am not lovable.

Which goes a long way toward explaining why I don't feel loved, even though my intellect knows I am. What I get is love without extending themselves for me, though I see them do so for other people with no more right to such treatment than I have. (They tell me I'm paranoid or imagining it. They tell me immediately it's mentioned, so quickly responding as to be purely defensive. Meaning, guilty.)

Just another case of the injustice of life, I guess, which doesn't do one thing to quench my thirst for justice. Or to feel lovable.

Just because something is doesn't mean it should be. 

But holding onto that doesn't seem to make anything change.

Yeah, acceptance is the best way to stay sane

unless your conscience is louder than your sanity.

My soul cries out for justice...

and the world laughs. 

Have you seen this woman? When Ms. Nice isn't so nice

I have a MIL whose career is Nice-ness. She lives her life to look nice and "be nice" but of course, she gets to define what Nice is, which is always whatever she wants. Unfortunately for me, she is so good at her career that she has convinced her entire family to crown her Queen and live to obey her slightest wish. I am very jealous, I must admit, because I have not mastered the art of forcing others to my will without leaving a mark and never accumulating blame, no matter what I've done. This woman is also a black belt in masking her motives, so that she cannot be called out on that basis, either. She is Untouchable and worshiped as a saint by her family. Not a negative word may be spoken about her, no wish she makes known may be left unmet, her every desire must be instantly fulfilled no matter who else might get trampled in the rush. Yet her family believes that she is selfless, loving and The Perfect One. Our Lady of Guadalupe is an abused woman compared to the blind worship this MIL receives.

It is frustrating to watch, to be on the neglected end of a relationship with one of her children. It seems to me that this affliction is rather common in certain ways, though. For instance, the elevated level of Family Love seems to be in direct proportion with the reduced size of the family that it encompasses. For example, this woman's one stated aim is love, her one driving purpose is Family (well, it's more like making sure her family is Nice by her definition), but the Family in question consists only of blood relations on her side. Her sisters, her brothers, her children. I didn't have such strong family feelings in my family of origin, so I am much more able to feel concern for and take action to help a larger family: co-workers, humanity, life on earth.

I wish I knew how she did it, to tell the truth. She makes you think she is all-giving, all-loving, all about caring for her family. But when you step back, she's really all about getting, being loved, and being taken care of. Without having the label "selfish" attached to her, ever! How's she do it?!

And boy, do I hate her. Not only for getting everyone to dance to her tune while thinking she's so generous and thoughtful of others, but because in the 37 years I've known her, I've never seen a shred of evidence that she's ever felt even a moment's guilt or doubt about her behavior, motives or treatment of others. And of course, with this reputation for saintliness, anyone pointing out the Empress really isn't wearing new clothes (i.e., isn't so saintly, loving, unselfish, etc) is labeled as petty and nasty and deserving of their neglect in the Queen's favor. Again, she wins, you lose.

The only way to survive is to play it her way, either by just going along with whatever she wants or by coming up with 'thoughtful', 'selfless' reasons to ignore her wishes and do what you want. Like, "Oh, no, we're having Christmas at our house--I wouldn't dream of asking you to have it. You're so busy, I'm sure you don't have time to get your house ready for guests." Ha, masterful! It not only sounds sweet, but implies she doesn't keep a clean house--which is one of her Prime Values--and can't manage to get it that way. Bwahahahahaha.

Hmm, maybe some of the Master's techniques have rubbed off after all... She's got a big (and OLD) birthday coming up. I'll see what I can do. 

F.E.A.R.

How do you get on with living a sane life when you are busy worrying about things that concern you, but are out of your control? I don't know.

I mean, I know all the 12-step suggestions and a lot of the psychology industry's approaches, and I guess they work as well as possible, but when you're a caretaker/fixer like me, none of it works well enough on such situations.

What situations, you ask?

Well, how about some puzzling behavior on the part of your husband that has as its only likely explanation young-onset Alzheimer's? Or how about a beloved 5 year old granddaughter who is hitting and jabbing other kids with her pencil--at a Montessori school chosen over day care because she got so bored at daycare? She is a complicated, emotionally needy (or maybe greedy is the more appropriate word) who is usually verbally advanced, but whose only explanation for being sent home from school today for stabbing kids with her pencil was "I'm tired."

How can my heart not ache for her and him and me and the potentially difficult futures we may all face?

I know, but I've just never been very good at denial. It was too dangerous in my growing-up household, which I learned by being oblivious and then being blindsided.

Okay, okay, you're right. Detachment isn't denial. Accepting what you can't change, that's good, too. One Day at a Time, Let Go and Let God, the Serenity Prayer, etc., etc. If only they were permanent fixes, but they're not.

Not when I'm in FEAR--Future Events Appearing Real.

The solution to fear is faith. It's just kind of slippery right now, hard to hold onto!

Here's another Lack of Logic tidbit: advice columnist is running a letter from bigwig at American Cancer Society about importance of colon cancer screening. Bigwig writes 'we're here to help so we have a free information kit to help people talk to their doctor about colon cancer screening.'

Well, the big problem is HAVING A DOCTOR TO TALK TO.

All these people they want to get screened...they don't because they can't afford it. They can't afford to have a doctor. 

They can't afford the tests or the insurance to pay for the tests. NOT because they don't know how to talk to their doctor!

Presumably, the American Cancer Society is involved with medical issues, so why don't they realize the state of medical care for most people in this country?

Seems to me that if they're sincere about helping, they'll help find a way to enable people to have the "luxury" (a purely American concept, I think) of having a doctor to see regularly.

Rules to lessen stress

Simple rules that can make life less stressful:

1. Things don't always turn out the way you want them to. Be prepared with a Plan B.

2. The guiding principle behind your budget should be the same as the sanity rule in Las Vegas---don't gamble more than you can afford to lose.

3. Wait until you can afford it. You'll live till then. Really.

4. Unless they are going to pay for it, don't buy anything based on what someone else will think if you do. Or don't.

5. There is NO free lunch. Period. No exceptions.

6. If you cannot meet your basic needs (shelter, food, personal covering) today, quit figuring angles on tomorrow. Get another job.

7. Appearing to be rich does NOT make you rich.

8. Saying something doesn't make it true.

9. If you don't understand it, don't sign it.

10. If you sign it, you owe it. Pay up and learn. It's repeating mistakes that's shameful.