Rebellion Dogs Publishing is stoked to welcome guest blogger Caren J from Chicago- how exciting!!!!

Swaying in the wind 400 feet above the city in the Orlando Eye— a Ferris wheel ride with giant air-conditioned capsules made mostly of clear Tecnoglass™— I was a Disney Queen. I wore a black sequined dress and white gym shoes to commemorate my first theme park ride in decades. 

Up there, the world was mine, if even for forty minutes. As a regular human, I’d braved five days and many miles of walking and riding Lime scooters over sidewalks, streets, and concrete overpasses in the humid 90° F (32° C) + heat of this Florida town, far from the ocean, not a lake to be seen.

A height-fearing friend and I hovered over Walt’s town; we got a new view. We could see that many lakes, in fact, pepper Orlando.  My friend, a recent transplant to the area, was pleasantly surprised. That is, once she got over her panic over the height by having me play her favorite dance song—"Culo" by Pitbull featuring Lil Jon—on the Bluetooth speaker that the pod had hooked up. Loosening up, she said, “I had no idea we have lakes here!” They are mostly hidden at ground level by gigantic hedges of trees and shrubs, keeping most of the lakes and surrounding private estates private. 

We saw Big Sand Lake, which spans over 1,000 acres. Then there’s Lake Cane, Little Sand Lake, Little Fish Lake, Spring Lake, and more. Happily, after some research, we also learned about Lake Sheen, which is public and boasts 570 acres. If I had not been leaving that day to head back home to Chicago, I’d have paid it a visit.

I hope the lakes and the people around them are doing OK three weeks after Helene and Milton did what they wanted to do with Florida.

I had travelled to Orlando for my 55th birthday, for ICSAA, a secular recovery conference, and to meet friends I’d only known on Zoom for the past four and a half years. We were there to study the brain science of addiction, more currently known as Use Disorders. The label “alcoholic” has been retired from the DSM-5-TR in favor of the more accurate Alcohol Use Disorder, less stigmatizing and more able to assess the level of risk and provide the proper helping interventions. 

Joe C., a Canadian researcher, podcaster, and the author of Beyond Belief: Agnostic Musings for 12 Step Life, shared his current findings about the nature of alcohol abuse and potential routes to recovery. 

Link:  YouTube, updated slide deck + audio from ICSAA Orlando September 20, 2024
Link: Podcast audio only ICSAA Orlando September 20, 2024 C.H.I.M.E. & Recovery Science

Dr. Allen Berger, the author of 12 Essential Insights for Emotional Sobriety, spoke about the interconnection between mental health and abstinence from harmful substances and behaviours. 

Link: Podcast audio Emotional Sobriety and Our Relationships

Trysh Travis holds a Ph.D. from Yale and is a self-described professional feminist. She is currently an Associate Professor of Women’s Studies at the University of Florida. She spoke to us about her work as an ally to those with substance use disorders and about her book The Language of the Heart: A Cultural History of the Recovery Movement from Alcoholics Anonymous to Oprah Winfrey.

Link:  AA in a polarizing world by Professor of Women’s Studies Trish Travis @ ICSAA 2024

I’d turned 55 the day after I arrived in Orlando on September 19th, making this—only my second trip on a plane since March of 2020—even more special. When I arrived at the conference that Friday, my birthday, I was so socially anxious that I hid in Starbucks, trying to gather the courage to face hundreds of men and women I’d met in virtual recovery and support rooms since the advent of COVID and the resulting Zoomiverse. My dear Zoom friend Carolyn texted me, saying, “Go ahead in; you’ll be fine.” She had told me she could not make it to Orlando but had been staying in touch via text and calls, as usual. 

I took a deep breath and headed across the hotel courtyard towards the reception area for the conference. I was ready to face people in real life (I still work from home, and I am not nearly as socially comfortable as I’d been before the pandemic. I’m working on it, though, since human connection is essential and can even be enjoyable). The moment I stepped in, Carolyn greeted me with her warm embrace. She’d surprised me by concealing her plans to attend. I felt immediately at home. She gave me a gift bag full of bath potions concocted in Vermont, which I used daily for the rest of my trip. 

Throughout the next few days of the conference, I could hug women and some men with whom I feel very close. Most of us are in recovery—and in the best case scenarios, are recovered—from harmful substances, unhealthy relationship patterns, and other debilitating habits that we turned to due to:

• familial pain and patterns,  
• trauma, 
• brain chemistry, 
• mental illness, 
• and simply not being able to live. 

Many people in recovery have trauma histories. To make our society healthier, it is essential that we continue to support and not punish anyone who needs help. That does not mean “rescuing others,” but it does mean practicing compassion and setting boundaries in kind—rather than shaming—ways. 

Shankar Vedantam’s podcast Hidden Brain featured Dr. James Pennebaker this past weekend (link below): 

Link:  What’s Hidden In Your Words. 

In the Hidden Brain podcast, we see how research shows that people who are depressed, which is a medical diagnosis and not a choice, use the word “I” a clinically significant percentage more than non-depressed people. It’s a symptom. 

This awareness might help a child or another person in your life who is begging for help and does not even know how to ask. Hyperverbal people are often not manic, but in fact, incessant talking is a trauma symptom in many cases. I feel it’s good to educate ourselves and others and try to bring harmony to our communities even if the world is falling apart. 

Charity begins at home. Trust me; I might if I could take off my helping hat. I'd rather swim and dance and go to Disney World. But what's been seen cannot be unseen; after decades of being a social worker in inner-city Chicago and working in the terror of emergency medicine, I want everyone to be OK. I know I can't make that happen, but I am destined to at least try, one day at a time. 

In these violent and unpredictable times, little by little, from the privileges we enjoy in the Midwest and beyond, we can be kinder to ourselves and the suffering people that we will encounter. 

"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself." — Leo Tolstoy