Tabitha, my 9 year old just handed me her tooth in a plastic bag followed by this statement “Mom, I know how it works. Let’s make this easy. Take the Bag and I’ll take twenty dollars. Thank You”

It’s heart breaking. When your kids suddenly realize that the mystical and magical beings they believe in have more to do with their parents than actual expanding chimney’s that open to allow a large jolly man with a white beard and red suit to come down bearing gifts.

It happens in kindergarten. When they experience the “dream killer” for the first time. That bratty little dirty nosed kid who says “There’s no such thing as _______”

And the doubt is placed in their mind.

The question then becomes, how do we keep them from allowing outside limiting beliefs from taking away their inner magic. Of course there will come a day when they realize that their parents are the magical beings from the story books. And they will feel their first moment fo disbelief and maybe even  like they’ve being lied to.

We of course don’t want to lie to our kids. When the time comes, we will be honest. But Then we have to reinstill their faith and again get them to believe that all things are possible. It’s our job to inspire them to believe that even things they can’t see could be real. After all, we want them reaching for the stars. We want them believing that they can land on the moon if they should so desire. We want them to believe they could be the one that creates the cure for cancer.  We want them to believe that they could eventually run our country. We have to give them the ability to believe in the beyond.

It’s our job. Keep them believing in Magic.

- Lori Ballen

www.TheBallenMethod.com

© All Contents Copyright 2012-2013 Lori Ballen. All Rights Reserved.

I Shouldn’t Have Survived It..
by Lori Ballen

How do I tell this story? Honestly, I’ve been thinking about not going there this round. But I know, that there is someone that needs to hear it. You may think I’m crazy, but I just know someone needs this. So judge if you will, but I’m going to share it anyway.

No other way than to just tell it.

Deep Breath, here goes……

11am, The Sun is up, Family has been up for hours. I’m still in bed and am awakened by my husband yelling and shaking me as hard as he could. I was so cold.  Even as I awoke, I could tell – I nearly didn’t make it. I almost died.

Another night, I fall asleep driving my car. Angels must have been there. Someone took over.

One morning, I arrive for work, only to be stricken by seisures. My husband rushed me to the hospital where I was treated for a severe “reaction”. It was close.

3 years ago this month, I made a decision that I did not want my daughters to see me die. I checked myself into a rehab center. I had a severe drug addiction.

So what happened to me? At age 16 I was diagnosed with a hereditary condition that was causing me severe pain in my upper back, neck and shoulders. I was told I would probably have this pain forever. At age 21, I had my first experience with pain medication. It was the first time in my life that I could remember not feeling pain. Over the next several years, I was diagnosed with severe arthritis in the upper back, degenerative disc disease, bone spurs (from an auto accident), and severe nerve damage topped off by fibromialgia. I was told that I would require multiple surgeries and would be on pain medication my entire life. I bought it. Hook, Line, and Sinker.

I had never dabbled in street drugs. In fact, I was so “morally” against it, I never would have even tried street drugs. But THIS was legal. This was prescribed. If doctors were giving it to me, I surely needed it. Over the next 2 decades, I would spiral into a deep, dark addiction. With each doctor, the medication got stronger. Over time, I began seeing multiple doctors including chiropracters, pain management doctors, surgeons, physical therapists, specialists and more… EACH prescribing medication.

In the end, I was on sleeping pills, muscle relaxers, antidepressants, valium, Roxicodone and Morphine.  I was taking about 30-40 pills a day. I have no idea how that didn’t kill me. It should have.

Honestly, I’m not sure how I functioned. But I did. In fact, I was pretty amazing at work. I was a machine. I was also a tyrant.

Drugs make you not feel regular emotion. I was a robot. I felt nothing. The only emotion I really felt was anger. And I was still in pain… all day every day. The more drugs they gave me, the more drugs I needed. I had multiple procedures to stop the pain, block the nerves, and nothing ever worked.

I even saw a homeopathic doctor for a year. I begged him to get me off all the medication and help me find natural remedies. He actually told me “You can’t be fixed. You are just one person that is going to have to stay medicated”

The darkest days were when I ran out of medication. That… Also nearly killed me. Day one would have me pulling out my hair and bouncing off the walls with anxiety. By day two I was curled up in a ball shaking, crying, and sick to my stomach. By day 3, I couldn’t speak. But somehow – by day 4, I would wind up replenshied with medication and be back up and running. Those days were the roughest days in my life. I can’t even imagine ever going through that again. The darkest despair. So dark.

Then, I left my husband. When someone is living in addiction, they can’t see the world for what it is. Everything looks different. I can’t really explain that, but it was kind of like – Everything was against me and my husband was the chief villian in that twisted scenario.

But in January 2010, I woke up one day, Looked on the back of my insurance card, and called the mental health line. I told them I needed help. They told me to go home, get my stuff and come to the rehab center at 9am. I called my husband and told him what was happening and he came to stay with our daughter.

It was an awful place. I don’t even want to talk about how awful it was. They had me more drugged up when I left there than when I went in. But… I knew when I left there weeks later, that I was done. That my life was changing. When I got home, it took me 2 weeks to detox and start functioning. Then, it was 3 more months before I could start anything “normal”. But once I got back to work, I could feel myself “coming back”.

My husband and I got back together once I had pulled myself back to life and realized what had happened.

The hardest part has been the emotional recovery. You see, when someone starts doing drugs, their emotional growth is stunted at the age where they start using. I was 21. So even though I had huge successes and experiences, emotionally I was stuck there.

The first year in recovery was full of emotional outbursts and a lot of tears. The “coming out of the coma” experience was something nearly too hard to describe. It was like seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling for the first time. Every sense was enlightened. It was scary and amazing.

The second year held a lot of sensitivity and confusion.

The 3rd year was the leap forward into self discovery. This last year has been powerful, beautiful, and enlightening.

I’m not done.  I will always be in recovery. But I’m feeling solid. I feel Anchored. I’m almost the 40 year old I should be.  I don’t do 12 step programs for personal reasons. But I’m strong. I believe in a better life. I don’t always make the best decisions even to this day in regards to putting myself in situations that could be my downfall. But, I’m striving to be the best person I can be. Some days are harder than others. I still get urges. But I know, just one slip, and I could lose myself and everyone around me. I believe, if I slipped, I would never come back. I would die. So I hold that really close.

I was very proud of myself for quitting smoking 6 months after I got out of rehab as well.

I have a lot of growth yet to go in my life. Every day I feel something new. I feel growth. I said to my friend tonight at dinner that I am starting to feel like the person I believe I “should have been, or would have been” over the last 20 years if I hadn’t buried myself in the addiction.

I tell this story with extreme risk. I understand some will criticize me. Some will feel “justified” in their opinions of me being “crazy”. And it may cause others to “wonder” about who I am. But I’m OK with that because there is one person reading this now that is on deaths door. Someone is reading this now that has already lost their family. Someone is reading this now saying “That’s ME”….

I’m encouraging that someone to get help. Just do it. Make a call. Or ask someone to help. Or walk in to a hospital. Whatever it takes.

Here’s the beauty – 3 years later, I’m happy. I have my family. I have my health. I have multiple businesses. I have more opportunities than I can count on both hands.

and I’m Happier and more fulfilled than I ever could have imagined. I still have pain, but it’s less than it ever was the entire time I had pain medication. And I’ve learned how to manage it.

If this is you, If you can relate, Please… Reach out to someone in your close circle, or pick up the phone and call the number on your insurance card. Get help – It gets SO much better and you deserve it.

Love, and Live LIFE  - You’re Worth It.

- Lori Ballen