Sober since April 6, 2006

That's
days

Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

an allegory: my relationship with alcohol

Note: This is a allegory (I suppose the proper term is allegory -- or metaphor/analogy) that I started writing last September. In every AA story I've heard, alcohol started out like a "friend", but became an abusive "enemy" over time. The premise of this story was to describe that transition and answer the question, "If alcohol was a person, what would our relationship have been like?" This is how I would describe that relationship -- how it started, how it evolved, how it is today:


The first time I met this guy, I didn't know what to think. I liked the way he made me feel about myself, but something about him just gave me the creeps. Being so busy with other things at the time, I quickly forgot about him and ran along with my life.

Years later, I bumped into him again. And again, I liked the way he made me feel about myself. But this time he didn't seem quite so creepy. So I spent more time with him.

We got along great together! Soon we were best friends. We hung out on the weekends and shared many fun times. We started having so much fun on the weekends that he started visiting in the evenings too.

I would often think about him during my day. I would wonder how he came to know me so well after such a short time together. It amazed me that he always seemed to know how to calm me down whenever I felt stressed out or upset. When we were together, all of my emotional insecurities disappeared. He made me feel good about myself. I couldn't wait to see him again!

Things were great between us. There was nothing he didn't understand. There was no problem he couldn't fix. He was my best friend.

But somehow, things slowly started to change. He started showing up earlier in the evenings, and staying over later. Soon he was barging in during the afternoons. His appearances during the wee morning hours seemed intrusive. Let's just face it -- 3am is too early!

I started wishing that he wouldn't come over quite so often. I enjoyed sharing some of my time with him, but I didn't like how he started to take over my life.

So I gently resisted him, trying to make him feel less and less welcome. But the more I resisted, the more forceful he became.

I suddenly realized that he was no longer the great guy I thought he was. He seemed to be transitioning into some sort of bully. I didn't like the way he was treating me.

Although I resisted him, his forcefulness eventually overcame me. He was bigger and stronger than I was. I couldn't outrun him. I couldn't stop him. I was completely powerless over him. Over time, my whole life slipped out of control, and I was filled with fear. I felt like a prisoner in my own home.

Gone were the happy days when he made me feel good about myself. Now he made me feel like the scum of the earth. He no longer helped me to calm down. Instead, he intentionally stressed me out. He no longer helped me to have fun. Instead, he constantly made me cry.

He would never leave. Whenever I tried to escape, he caught me.

I longed for those good, happy days. I mourned as time passed, because my former friend was growing stronger, meaner, and more ruthless by the second. Those happy days would never come again.

I felt my life shrink away as he took a stronger hold of it. The more I resisted, the more domineering he became.

I lost what little hope I had. I only had room for one emotion: despair.

Finally, he was particularly cruel one day. As I wrestled with the last bit of strength I had, I knew deep inside that it was all over. I closed my eyes, asked God for mercy, and braced for the inevitable impact that I knew would end my life.

Suddenly, a bright light flooded the darkness and forcefully knocked him into a shadowy corner. Where did that light come from? A window covering had fallen during our scuffle.

During this moment of clarity, I noticed for the first time how dark it had become in my home. As he cowered in the corner shading his eyes from the light, I discovered that each and every window was covered in a thick black cloth. Why hadn't I noticed before? I had become accustomed to living in darkness.

I studied him in the corner. He nervously fidgeted in the dark shadow, seemingly terrified of the light. After all, it was the sudden burst of light that knocked him away from me.

Then I finally realized: He couldn't enter the light -- it repulsed him. He could only stand in the shadows. No wonder all of the windows had been blocked -- the darkness gave him full reign over my home!

The one open window provided a path of light leading to the next covered window. I glanced in the direction of the next window, and back at him.

His furious eyes pierced my soul as I strode over to the window and tore down the curtains. He shrank even further into the shadow as more light filled the room.

Finally, I was no longer hopeless. I was amazed to realize that I didn't have to let him kill me.

But I needed help -- I didn't know what to do next.

Fortunately there was a group of people who knew how to deal with this kind of unwanted intruder, and they were willing to help me.

How did they know? They had the same experience that I did.

They sympathized with me when I shared my story. They explained that this unwanted friend would be with me for the rest of my life and would grow increasingly abusive if I didn't take immediate and continuous action.

My heart sank at this news. I was hoping there would be a way to either get him out of my home permanently, or to fix him so that he would be back to his old friendly self. Apparently neither option was possible. I allowed him into my life so many times that he became a permanent fixture.

But they said there is still hope: I can't fix him or eliminate him, but I can prevent him from appearing. All I have to do is get rid of ALL the darkness in my home and continually fill it with light. I must live in that light.

They explained that my light source can be whatever I want it to be: the sun, lamps, ceiling fixtures, wall lights, candles, whatever. I just need to take certain steps to renovate my house to eliminate the shadow.

I also needed to take certain steps to fix myself as well. I had become so accustomed to living in darkness that I needed to learn how to live in the light.

It all seemed so difficult, but I didn't have to do it all alone. They offered to help me. After all, they had to do this themselves.

They shared with me their stories and experiences, and all were similar to mine. Hearing their experience, strength, and hope gave me the encouragement I needed to take action.

Since then, I have learned how to renovate my home and fill it with more light to keep my unwanted friend at bay. There are still a few shadowy corners here and there, but I'm working on those. I'm still learning how to live in the light. This will be a life-long endeavor, but it beats the alternative.

Sometimes I start to feel bad about myself. I think back to those "good old days" when my friend and I had such good times together, and I sometimes wish to experience those good times again. Sometimes I feel like I can trust him again.

But one glance at a shadowy corner brings me back to reality: My "friend" no longer likes me. It creeps through the shadows seeking to dominate my life. It tried to kill me. And if I extend my hand, it will try to kill me again.

On my bad days, I can see it lurking in the shadows. But I can always get rid of it by letting more light in. This has become a daily task, sometimes an hourly task, or sometimes even a task I must complete every few minutes. But success comes one moment at a time, by living in the light.

There is hope today, and for that I am grateful.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Imaginary Warrior

My mind is a battlefield, worn and scathed
The battles seem so huge and important
And it comes as a surprise to realize
That it's all in my head

One part of me knows what's right and true
The other part mis-feels and mis-senses the world around me
The conflicting readings make me feel like I'm losing my mind
To an imaginary battle

Intellectual knowledge provides an accurate roadmap
But my emotional sensory intuition is inaccurate
I know what's supposed to be true at a given time
But every feeling in my body says the opposite is happening

That conflict between what is "known" and what is "felt" ...
It's hard sometimes.
I'm tired :)


Today, I'm grateful ...

  • to be sober
  • that my dad liked the gifts that I made for him
  • that my family loves me
  • that my boyfriend loves me
  • that my car works
  • that God hasn't left, and won't leave

Monday, June 19, 2006

Obsession is not a perfume!

It's the constant, sanity-stealing impulse to do something -- even if you know it's bad for you.

It might hide, but it never goes away.

It stalks you. And at your weakest moment, it strikes.

What little sanity you had is gone.

You lose the "will" to fight it.

And it defeats you ... again.


Today, I'm thankful for ...

  • not giving in
  • being 74 days sober
  • long walks in the forest
  • AA buddies
  • loving family and boyfriend
  • precious puppy
  • God, who helped me to stay sober today

Sunday, June 11, 2006

The Empty Canvas

An empty canvas waits for me. The brushes and paint are ready. But for some reason, it takes courage to pick up a brush and paint.

A million ideas run through my mind, but they are all dismissed as "silly" or "stupid". I'm afraid of making mistakes. I'm afraid of ruining the painting.

This hesitation extends to my own life. I'm afraid to really live.

A million plans run through my mind, but they are all dismissed as "impossible" or "stupid". I'm afraid of making mistakes. I'm afraid of ruining everything.

And as I wait for courage to come, time passes. By the time I know what to paint with my life, it will all be over.




Today, I'm thankful ...

  • for being 66 days sober
  • for being loved
  • for being alive
  • for having a chance

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Let the Flowers Bloom



When I was a little girl, I loved flowers -- especially big beautiful flowers with nice fragrances. I loved to walk up to the prettiest bloom, and smell of its soft petals.

One time when I was very little, my mother planted some pretty flowering plants. But they were not ready to bloom yet. All of the stalks were crowned with little green buds. I asked why the flowers had not come out, and mom said it would take some time for the buds to bloom into flowers.

I waited for a few minutes, assuming that I could watch the buds bloom. But they never bloomed. They never grew or even moved! This was quite disconcerting for a child of my age. I soon grew restless and went away for a bit to play with some toys.

When I came back to the flowers later, the buds still had not bloomed. Letting out a frustrated sigh, my fingers impatiently caressed one of the soft green buds. I examined it closely. I could see the gentle creases where the green bud would separate for the flower to bloom.

Then another bud nearby caught my attention. A thin slice of pink peeked out from the bud. These flowers were going to be pink! My entire soul danced with giddiness -- I simply could not wait for the flowers to bloom!

Carefully stroking the peeking pink petal, the thought came to me: Perhaps I could help the flower to bloom. The poor flower wants to come out. Maybe it just needs some help getting out of that green bud. Yes! That is it!

I held my breath and carefully pulled apart the green bud so that the flower could come out. To my consternation, the flower inside was ugly and pitiful! I did not understand what was wrong with it.

I asked mom what was wrong with the flower. She explained that we have to wait for the flowers to open by themselves.

I did not like that answer. From my perspective, I had waited long enough for that flower to bloom. I thought I was helping it when I pulled the bud apart.

But being so young, it did not take long for me to find other distractions to fill my thoughts. I soon forgot about the flowers.

Many naptimes and playtimes later, I was delighted to see big beautiful pink flowers. When I smelled of their soft, fragrant petals, I noticed the dead bud that my tiny fingers had pried open long ago.

I felt silly for trying to force that flower to bloom. The other flowers had managed to bloom much better by themselves! It took time, yes -- but it was well worth it. I never pried apart another bud again.

Sometimes today, I look at situations in my life in the same way. I see many "buds" that I would like to hurry along. And sometimes I try to force them to open.

By nature, I am incredulous to the notion that my "assistance" can ruin a budding opportunity. But all of my unwanted circumstances today are the result of my "assistance" in past situations.

Just as flowers must blossom in their own time, God's work in my life must blossom in its own time. If I force it, good opportunities are reduced to nothing more than destroyed buds.

I need to step back ... and allow the buds to blossom on their own.

"God, Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
and the Wisdom to know the difference. Amen."

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Stupid Emotional Regurgitation

Bleh ... this is so aggrivatingly stupid! But I felt the need to write something therapeutic, notwithstanding my wayward propensity towards absolute daftness (or insanity at this point) ...


In a clumsy stutter of momentary belief
The worries of the world temporarily fade away
Encouraging my heart to be brave once more
Flying as an eagle, feeling the power of the world beneath me
Until I find myself in the deep muddy pit yet again
Having crashed down into a pathetic heap
Aching body screaming; broken heart erupting
In the silence of a world filled with the deafening roar of humanity’s agony

The silence echoes into a blasting rush of nothingness
And time seems to stop, halting a tear in mid-fall
Its sparkle glistening softly in the dim light
But the rest of the world moves on
As time grips my life firmly
There is no procession; there is no change
There is only a single tear suspended in mid-fall as the rest of the world proceeds
A stubborn tribute to broken dreams and to the equally broken and regretful heart that bore them

Looking upwards toward the sky
A faint speck of blue is hardly visible from the depths of this cold dark lair
The sun streams in as a blinding and painful reminder
And all hopes of escape are quickly dashed with the realization
That this cold darkness will forever be my home
The depravity of humanity succumbing to its power
A black hole of emotion that binds, blinds, and breaks all inklings of hope

An icy hand snags my shoulder and draws my eyes from the light
The chill from the darkness scarcely illuminated by the moist fog of my breath
And I once again find myself unable to move
Afraid to think, afraid to hope
For if every fall lands here
There will never be any true escape
The tear will forever dangle there, promising a glint of hope in its sparkle
Until it, too, freezes and dims in the muddy shadows with me
Forever companions in this dark, cold world