... and another door opens

Every time a door closes, another one opens.

A door closed for me, and I don't like what's behind the newly-opened door. I knew beforehand that this was going to happen, and I thought I could handle it. But now that it has actually taken place, I can't handle it. I absolutely hate the way things changed. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

Because I can't control anything but my own actions, I have to decide what to do next.

I'm torn between two extremes:

1. mourn the loss excessively, as if my entire life is ruined forever; or
   
2. cut my losses and decide that what I lost was stupid and never mattered anyway.

Neither extreme is really truthful. My life isn't "ruined forever", although it feels that way. And what I lost wasn't "stupid" -- it did matter, and it still matters, otherwise I wouldn't feel hurt.

There's an honest middle-ground somewhere. I've never been one for finding it. It's easier just to give up and take an extreme than to fight for balance over that complicated middle ground.

I'd love to go to a meeting, but I'm sick with some sort of cold/flu/plague thing that was graciously shared with me by a coworker last week. Being physically sick doesn't make this any easier.

In the end, it's all about acceptance and honesty. It's not about how I see it or how I want it to be, it's about how it is ... and I don't like it.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can; and
Wisdom to know the difference;
Living one day at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He would make all things right if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him forever in the next.

of colds and biohazard suits

I'm so sick this weekend, I need one of these hats:



And I have a resentment.

I caught some sort of cold/flu/plague thing from a coworker. Many people consider it rude to come to work when you're sick. But not where I work!

Because our cheap company does not provide adequate sick time, sick employees are always crawling into work sneezing and coughing all over the place. It's not an office -- it's a germ factory.

This pisses me off.

Sure, my coworker could have taken a sick day. But she would have to work ten 40-hour weeks to earn another sick day. 400 hours for one 8-hour sick day! What a ridiculous policy! I can't fault her for coming to work sick.

All of the employees are reluctant to use their sick time. They want to save it for a real emergency (such as hospitalization).

In my hiney whiney crybaby little opinion, companies providing lousy/nonexistent sick time policies should at least provide the following:


(1) Spray cans of disinfectant:


(2) Hand sanitizer:
(3) SARS masks:

(4) Biohazard suits:

Okay, so the biohazard suit may be a bit overboard.

At least the SARS masks are moderately fashionable. The style would catch on in no time. I guess I could start a fashion trend at work and start wearing one myself.

Overall, I'm just feeling disappointed. I missed out on alot of special things this weekend, and I'm frustrated.

My homegroup had a special "eating meeting" and speaker, I really wanted to go. My boyfriend moved away today, and I didn't even get to say goodbye. I had to use half a sick day on Friday -- it will take 5 weeks to earn it back.

Geez I feel like throwing a tantrum. It sucks to be sick. It sucks even more when it stops me from doing what I want to do.

a beautiful ride

This weekend, I went on my first-ever camping trip. I went with my boyfriend and several friends from his clean & sober motorcycle club. It's very fun to ride with a group of people -- especially people who are also sober and in the program.

The ride was terrific. When you turn your back on today's worries, say a prayer with the group, mount the motorcycle, enter the wind, watch the countryside pass by, see the sights, smell the smells, feel the heat and cold, bear the stinging rain -- you have an experience unrivaled by anything else.


We wear earplugs to drown out the loud engines. And when you can't hear anything or talk to anybody for long stretches of time -- you're forced to navigate your own thoughts. I used to be afraid of that, but now I look forward to these opportunities of quiet introspection, as they are also opportunities to pray and let go.

When I let go, problems and difficulties don't seem so powerful anymore. Yesterday doesn't matter, and tomorrow doesn't matter. It's all about living in the moment and enjoying the moment. And on a motorcycle in a beautiful country on a beautiful day, there's alot to enjoy in the present moment.

Well, not only was the ride beautiful, but so was the campground. There was a rocky stream at the bottom of the hill. I enjoyed the watching the water flow through the rocks. The constant whisper of the water could be heard through the whole camp. It was absolutely beautiful.

Before bedtime, we built a fire and had an AA meeting. The topic was resentment.

The Big Book says on p. 66:

"It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness. To the precise extent that we permit these, do we squander the hours that might have been worth while. But with the alcoholic, whose hope is the maintenance and growth of a spiritual experience, this business of resentment is infinitely grave. We found that it is fatal. For when harboring such feeling we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the Spirit. The insanity of alcohol returns and we drink again. And with us, to drink is to die.

If we were to live, we had to be free of anger. The grouch and the brainstorm were not for us. They may be the dubious luxury of normal men, but for alcoholics these things are poison."

In our meeting, we wrote down our resentments on paper, shared them with the group, then symbolically turned them over to God by tossing the paper into the fire. We ended our "share" by expressing gratitude.

And I have alot to be grateful for.

Overall, this whole trip was a very meaningful experience. For me, it really meant alot to be included in something like this. After all, I'm not a member of this motorcycle club. I'm just somebody's girlfriend. But they didn't just tolerate me, they welcomed me ... and it means alot to be accepted like that.

Today, I'm especially grateful ...

• for being 535 days sober
• having a safe trip
• going camping for the first time (it was fun!)
• having some quality time at the stream to watch, listen, and pray
  
• being welcome
• for the wonderful guy in my life who invited me in
• for my family and my job
• God, because I don't need to understand Him, since He understands me
  

And now, I will leave you with the stream I loved to watch at the campground. I could sit there for hours:

(Video taken with cell phone - sorry for the lousy quality!)

overlooked blessings

I was sitting through heavy rush hour traffic this morning on my way to work.

As usual, the slowpoke lolling drivers in front of me were all idiots, and the impatient tailgating drivers behind me were all maniacs.

Looking at the clock, I became fearful that I would be late to work. So I sat there and stewed. I HATE being late.

Toward the end of my drive, I looked out my window and noticed something I had forgotten.

The last time I said "goodbye" to my boyfriend, he kissed my window three times, leaving three "kissprints" on my window. I hadn't noticed them all morning until that moment.

Suddenly it didn't matter whether I was going to be a few minutes late to work. The idiots in front of me and the maniacs behind me could drive as they willed, and I didn't care.

Those kissprints didn't suddenly appear -- they were there for the whole drive. I looked straight through them without noticing them. But still they were there. How many other little blessings to I miss every day because I'm preoccupied with something else?

I sometimes tend to get bent out of shape over things I can't have or can't control, it was nice to be reminded this morning that there are reasons to smile -- all around me. They may be easy to overlook, but they are there.

Today, I'm grateful ...

• to be 529 days sober
• for my friends, loved ones, and family
  
• 
• for the three kisses left on my car window
• for the unnoticed blessings yet to be discovered
  
• for the people at the meeting tonight, discussing the 9th step
• for the honesty of the people at these meetings
• for the ladies in AA
  
• to step outside and shiver from the cool breeze (it's been so HOT lately)
  
• to have enough
• to be sleepy at bedtime
• that God's ideas are bigger than mine

september sixteenth

Today, I am grateful ...

• to be 528 days sober
• for my family, loved ones, and friends
• cooler weather
  
• for a motorcycle ride on a beautiful day
• to see two friends get married
• for Italian food!
  
• for going out of town to see my boyfriend's new house
• to love and to be loved
  
• to once again learn that just because a situation may seem too difficult to handle, I can get through it without the world ending
• to God for His timing, because everything happens for an ultimately good reason, and WHEN it happens is also for an ultimately good reason. Of course it all seems wrong and impossible up front, but timing can be more easily appreciated in retrospect ...
  

choose wisely: a) struggle to the top of the heap; b) hide underneath it; c) explode

"But it is from our twisted relations with family, friends, and society at large that many of us have suffered the most. We have been especially stupid and stubborn about them. The primary fact that we fail to recognize is our total inability to form a true partnership with another human being. Our egomania digs two disastrous pitfalls. Either we insist upon dominating the people we know, or we depend upon them far too much. If we lean too heavily on people, they will sooner or later fail us, for they are human, too, and cannot possibly meet our incessant demands. In this way our insecurity grows and festers. When we habitually try to manipulate others to our own willful desires, they revolt, and resist us heavily. Then we develop hurt feelings, a sense of persecution, and a desire to retaliate. As we redouble our efforts at control, and continue to fail, our suffering becomes acute and constant. We have not once sought to be one in a family, to be a friend among friends, to be a worker among workers, to be a useful member of society, Always we tried to struggle to the top of the heap, or to hide underneath it. This self-centered behavior blocked a partnership relation with any one of those about us. Of true brotherhood we had small comprehension."

-- Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 53

I thought I had this part worked out, but lately I'm finding myself either trying to be the fly on the wall or be the center of attention. (Sometimes I want to be both simultaneously, if that makes any sense ...)

When my expectations aren't met, I want to run away and revel in self-pity. I have ideas about how I think people should behave. When they don't behave that way, it throws me off. And when I get thrown off, I obsess over it until I'm too tired to obsess anymore.

Right now I feel cranky, tired, and stressed. And tired.

laugh

keeping busy

Well it's been a LONG few weeks. But things are going well.

Right now, my life consists of two main time periods: Weekends and Workweeks.

Two weekends ago, I flew halfway across the country for my grandmother's funeral. Her service was beautiful. I'm very grateful that I got to go. It was nice to see my extended family (cousins, aunts, uncles) again. I had not seen some of them since I was a little kid.

Last weekend, I got to ride out of town with my boyfriend on his Harley to see his family. It was my first 1,000-mile ride on the bike. I loved it! I also went to my first "out of town" AA meeting. That was cool.

This weekend, we rode with some motorcycle club friends. There's just something unexplainably fun about tearing down the road in a pack of roaring Harleys. It is also my sister's birthday -- she is very happy and had a good time today.

But as for the workweek, well, they're torture. Work has become increasingly stressful. I'm grateful to have a job, but sometimes it feels more like the job has me. Unfortunately, I have done so well that they keep adding to my responsibilities. But it's better than job hunting ... anything is better than job hunting.

To make workweeks more unpleasant, my boyfriend got a new job in a city 2 hours away, so I only get to see him on the weekends. He's been commuting through the week. But he's getting ready to move away ... I'm trying not to feel sad about that.

I find myself dreading the future. The Big Book says that as we work through the end of Step 9, "We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it." But I feel that way about the future -- I regret the future and I wish to shut the door on it.

I don't want things to change. They aren't changing for the better for me. It will be better for someone else, but not for me. But it isn't fair to expect every situation to fall into my favor. I guess I should find consolation in knowing that someone I love will benefit from it.

Anyway, it's getting late ... I'm off to bed!

she remembered me

She lived halfway across the country, but that didn't matter.

Every Christmas, she sent us grandchildren Christmas cards saying "I love you". She wrapped little gifts by hand and carefully printed our names, tiny trembles in each letter. Although I was just one of many grandchildren -- she always remembered me.

Every birthday, she sent me a birthday card saying "I love you". As a kid, I had to learn the hard cold fact that most people will forget my birthday since it falls between Christmas and New Year. But every year without fail -- she always remembered me.

Sometimes, she would randomly send a postcard or note -- just to say "I love you". Even on ordinary days during the year -- she remembered me.

She did so much for me, but I did so little for her. I didn't call when I should have. I didn't send her cards. I didn't even know when her birthday was.

The last time we talked on the phone, she asked me to come visit her. Remembering my busy work schedule and the amount of time and effort a trip halfway across the country would take, I replied, "I'd love to -- but I'll need to get some time off work ... "

I never made that visit.

She passed away Monday night, with all of her beloved children at her bedside.

I'll be boarding a plane tomorrow morning to make the visit that I wish I had made many months ago.

Although I knew she was in the hospital for the past few weeks, I didn't call or write. Even after I heard she took a turn for the worse, I still didn't call or write. I never took the time or effort to reach out to her.

The one thing I can't get out of my head:

She always remembered me.

So if you have a friend or family member that you've been putting off calling or visiting -- don't put it off any longer. Take the time and effort. Make that call today, and make that visit today. Let them know you love them ... let them know you remember them. Just let them know.

at some of these, we balked ...

From page 58 in the Big Book, in reference to working the 12 Steps:

"At some of these we balked. We thought we could find an easier, softer way. But we could not."

Balk. Like a terrified chicken. "BAWK!" (At least, that's how we characterize it in my home group ...)

I balked from going to a new meeting today. I drove for 35 minutes on beautiful country roads to attend this meeting, but I chickened out. I had been looking forward to attending this meeting for a week.

I'm always nervous to go somewhere new. And I'm always subconsciously looking for reasons NOT to go.

The drive was long. My radio sucks. So I drove in silence.

I don't know about anyone else, but whenever I have too much time alone without other things to compete for my attention, I get caught up in my head. I quickly found a million reasons not to go to the meeting.

Little subconscious worries suddenly blew up into huge fears, ranging from the absurd to the legit. My biggest worries concern things that have not happened yet -- things that only have a 0.0000001% chance of happening, but only if hell freezes over first. Regardless of probability, each worry beckons the insatiable question: "Oh no! What am I going to do about THAT???"

Then all of the insecurities that I ordinarily push out of the way popped up into the spotlight. Little things that embarrassed me lately replayed over and over. My self-confidence shriveled away and I felt like a complete and total idiot.

By the end of that 35-minute drive, I was tired, lonely, stressed, and feeling stupid. I didn't want to be alone. But I didn't want to be around other people either.

By the time I finally got to the meeting place, I turned around and went home. It felt like the easier softer way -- at the time.

"Bawk-bawk-bawk!"

I felt stupid for driving all the way out there just to turn around. This isn't the first time this has happened ... I'm supposed to learn from past mistakes, right?

Oh well -- it's just another lesson that whenever a decision needs to be made, the easier softer way can sometimes appear to be the most difficult way.

we did not like their symptoms and the way these disturbed us ...

"We had to see that when we harbored grudges and planned revenge for such defeats, we were really beating ourselves with the club of anger we had intended to use on others."

--Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 47

Normally, I'm not a person who gives in to anger. I tend to lean more toward the depressive end of the scale. If I get angry, I'm angry with myself.

But the other day, I became angry in response to the actions of another person. I allowed myself to fume and stew, constantly reliving the issue and even predicting future issues with this person. This resulted in being hit with overwhelming waves of rage and hatred -- even about things that haven't happened yet (and may never happen at all).

I knew I needed to let it go, but I wouldn't. In my mind, this person deserved to be hated.

So I fumed. And I stewed. And I hated.

I knew all along that I was wrong, and I knew the answer, but I was not willing to accept it until my anger was exhausted:

"This was our course: We realized that the people who wronged us were perhaps spiritually sick. Though we did not like their symptoms and the way these disturbed us, they, like ourselves, were sick too. We asked God to help us show them the same tolerance, pity, and patience that we would cheerfully grant a sick friend. When a person offended we said to ourselves, 'This is a sick man. How can I be helpful to him? God save me from being angry. Thy will be done.'

"We avoid retaliation or argument. We wouldn't treat sick people that way. If we do, we destroy our chance of being helpful. We cannot be helpful to all people, but at least God will show us how to take a kindly and tolerant view of each and every one."

-- Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 66-67

Now I'm exhausted, wondering why I allowed myself to get so bent out of shape. I knew the answer the whole time, and I only hurt myself in the process.

"When a drunk has a terrific hangover because he drank heavily yesterday, he cannot live well today. But there is another kind of hangover which we all experience whether we are drinking or not. That is the emotional hangover, the direct result of yesterday's and sometimes today's excesses of negative emotion - anger, fear, jealousy, and the like. If we would live serenely today and tomorrow, we certainly need to eliminate these hangovers."

--Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 88

I have more work to do ... so much more work.

road of happy destiny

Today, I came across the closing words at the end of the last chapter in the Big Book:

"We realize we only know a little. God will constantly disclose more to you and to us. Ask Him in your morning meditation what you can do each day for the man who is still sick. The answers will come, if your own house is in order. But obviously you cannot transmit something you haven't got. See to it that your relationship with Him is right, and great events will come to pass for you and countless others. This is the Great Fact for us.

"Abandon yourself to God as you understand God. Admit your faults to Him and to your fellows. Clear away the wreckage of your past. Give freely of what you find and join us. We shall be with you in the Fellowship of the Spirit, and you will surely meet some of us as you trudge the Road of Happy Destiny. May God bless you and keep you -- until then," (p.164).

Wow, this part is like a simple version of the 12 steps: "Abandon yourself to God as you understand God. Admit your faults to Him and to your fellows. Clear away the wreckage of your past. Give freely of what you find."

I needed to read those instructions today. I need to be more aggressive in working my program. I haven't been concentrating on that. I've been too busy working, catching up on lost sleep, and finding inventive ways to waste time. I haven't been "trudging the road" -- I've been too comfortable.

"Our very lives, as ex-problem drinkers, depend upon our constant thought of others and how we may help meet their needs," (p. 20).

"At the moment we are trying to put our lives in order. But this is not an end in itself. Our real purpose is to fit ourselves to be of maximum service to God and the people about us," (p. 77).

I want to be helpful, but I can't share what I don't have. It's worth asking, "Have I abandoned myself to God today, or have I abandoned God to go my own way?"

I'm very grateful to be sober today, to have such wonderful AA friends, to have a family that loves me, and a God who will never leave.

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.

a fine example

The post below this one is a fine example of what happens when you get caught up for too long in your own head.

"Catastrophic avalanche of mindshit" doesn't begin to describe it ... but it's a start.

Thank you to all of my homegroup chicas who called and texted and helped me to stay sober over the past couple of days. I'm amazed and deeply touched by the support extended by the ladies in the program ... I cannot thank you enough.

don't like these feelings

I don't like how I'm feeling today. Rejected, unwanted, deficient, used, etc. And because I don't like how I'm feeling, my impulse is to change it ... that's not a good place for an alcoholic to be.

Rejection is one of those really difficult feelings to work through.

Rejection means that there is something wrong with me -- I'm deficient ... I'm inadequate. If only I was better in some way, then I wouldn't have been left behind.

There are so many "If only's ..."

"If only I was prettier ... "

"If only I was smarter ... "

"If only I was more successful ... "

"If only I had (this) or (that) ... "

And the list goes on and on forever.

I'm starting to hate the word "acceptance", because that's the answer -- but it's a damn ugly answer. I want the answer to be "Here, drink this and those feelings will go away." But no. It doesn't work that way.

The answer is this: I have to accept that something good is over. I don't want it to be over, but it is. "Why" doesn't matter. "How" doesn't matter. It's just over.

"Deal with it" ... but it hurts too much to deal with it ...

monday blues

Today was tough.

First, my boyfriend is leaving town because he got a better job in a city 200 miles away. Although I'm very happy for him that he's been blessed with this opportunity -- and I've encouraged him to take it -- I'm afraid. I don't like uncertainty. We're going from being 1 mile apart, to being 200 miles apart. Although he sincerely assures me that he wants to continue our relationship, I can't help but wonder how much longer he will feel that way after he's been gone for a few months. On one hand, I'm preparing myself for everything to end. On the other hand, I want to believe him, but I'm afraid to get hurt again. Cynicism feels safer. But cynicism so damn depressing ... Again it's uncertainty. I either have to get over it, or I won't.

Second, "Aunt Flo" showed up this morning -- making me nauseous, weak, dizzy, and feeling as if I had been shot, stabbed, and run over. It's like having the flu ... It made everything else that happened today much more difficult to handle ...

Third, I started a new job at work today. But it was frustrating because even though the appropriate paperwork was submitted weeks ago, I didn't have access to the computer programs and accounts that I need in order to do this job. They didn't even set up my phone until 4:30 in the afternoon. There is so much work to do, but I'm useless for now.

Fourth, there was an incident while taking some coworkers out to lunch today. I offered to drive them. When we parked in the parking lot, one of the ladies could not unfasten her seatbelt. It was stuck. She tried, I tried, another coworker tried -- the seatbelt would not budge.

While I tried to help her out, an idiot in an SUV insisted on parking in the space next to mine -- but my car doors were swung open into that space while we worked on releasing my coworker's seat belt. My "free" coworkers moved out of the space and watched, so I was the only one helping my stuck coworker now.

Never mind the fact there was a perfectly clear space on the OTHER side of my car -- he wouldn't take it because it would mean walking five paces farther than he wanted to walk. The idiot sat there and glared at me for not getting out of his way, and he waited impatiently for me to close my car doors to make room for his fat-ass SUV.

I looked at him, looked at the empty space on the other side of my car, and looked back at him incredulously, wondering, "Is he really that stupid?"

Yes, he was THAT stupid. He inched into the space a bit more and became angry that I wouldn't get out of his way.

There wasn't enough room for him to park where I was working. He could see that I was trying to help someone out of the car, but he didn't care. I was in his way.

I started to panic. The stupid seatbelt wasn't budging. I pushed the button and tugged this way and that, but the buckle was still stuck. My coworker tried to slip under the belt, but instead it tightened around her so that she couldn't move at all.

Then the bastard inched closer to my open door because I wasn't moving out of his way fast enough. I became very angry. There was a free space on the other side of my car -- why wouldn't he take it? Because he was a stupid lazy bastard who believes the world owes him a parking space that's five feet closer to the door -- that's why!

I wanted to yell at him. If he was in my position, I would have offered to HELP him, not run him over. But I didn't say anything or make any gestures to him. I was too scared to stand up for myself. I've always been that way. I'm a bully's favorite pissing target.

The seatbelt simply was not coming off, and I could tell my coworker was starting to panic a bit when it locked tight around her. I opened the scissors on my swiss army knife and cut the seatbelt off. Then I closed the car doors and got out of the idiot's way.

He swung into the space crooked and far off-center -- the typical rude and inept fashion common in this area. Asshole. Not that I have a resentment about this or anything ... (hahaha)

The kicker is that during the drive on the way home, the seatbelt buckle would disconnect and reconnect effortlessly. No problem anymore. But the seatbelt itself has been cut and is useless now ...

But this incident pointed out to me (again) that I need to learn to be more assertive. Otherwise I might go postal on someone one of these days.


Regardless of all the stupid little things going on, I have so much to be grateful for ...

• I'm 452 days sober
• I've shared the past seven months of my life with someone special
• I have a job ... I recently got a promotion
• I have a car that can take coworkers to lunch (although it tried to trap one of them today, lol)
• My seatbelt BUCKLE works. Now I just need a new belt ...
  
• My coworkers WANTED to go to lunch with me (wow)
  
• My family still loves me
• I can still write when I need/want to
• Independence Day (US) is coming up. One of my favorite holidays.
• I'm sleepy, and I can go to bed now ...
• God, because he's got this stuff figured out in some kind of strategic plan
  

irrational rationalizations catching up to me

I completed step 4 and started step 5 last weekend. I didn't know where to start with the 5th step, so I started with the most difficult things first. The rest of step 5 is all downhill from here.

I wanted to have this complete over a year ago, but I wasn't ready. It took as long as it took for a good reason. I wouldn't have been able to handle the emotional aftermath.

All my life, I've used a bad way of coping with traumatic experiences. I would escape the negative feelings caused by traumatic experiences by taking unreasonable responsibility for getting hurt.

For example, my default method for rationalizing traumatic events goes something like this: "I was bullied in school because I was a fat nerd. If I hadn't been a fat nerd, they wouldn't have bullied me. So it's all my fault that I got bullied -- I was a fat nerd and I deserved it."

The fact that the bullies themselves played a role in the bullying didn't matter -- I didn't want it to matter -- I didn't want to feel like a victim. The feelings of victimization -- of being violated, broken, and dominated -- shatter self-esteem like nothing else.

If I convince myself that an event was all my fault and I deserved it anyway, then suddenly the feelings of trauma and victimization disappear and are replaced with a sense of "getting the punishment I deserved." Those feelings aren't so bad in comparison.

But now that I'm willing to recognize my past hurts for what they really were, I'm feeling all of the emotions that I've been avoiding all this time -- the feelings of being violated, broken, and dominated.

Things that happened years ago feel like they just happened yesterday. All of the emotion collectively built up and hit me like a ton of bricks. Over the past few days, I've been feeling utterly smashed at the world's feet.

It's getting better though. I guess I needed to grieve. And to feel.

And that's okay. I'm finally moving through all of this -- and I don't have to do it alone anymore.

emotion switch?

Today I was thinking over some things, and I realized that I have a coping mechanism that I didn't know I've been using.

I can turn my emotions on or off at will. And whenever I reach a point where I'm feeling too many negative emotions, I turn my emotions off. All of them. I become very cold and callous about everything and everyone -- and that sucks -- but it makes the pain go away.

Would that be apathy?

It just seems easier to cut off emotionally and walk away from whatever hurts than to experience those unpleasant feelings and work through them like I should. I don't have any answers yet but I felt the need to spill that out there.

sorry for the slowdown ...

I haven't had much to say in this blog for a while. When I first started blogging about recovery, this blog was my primary contact with other AA's.

When I first started getting sober, I had spent the previous two years of my life practically living online, so the transition into "real life" was scary. I went to AA meetings but I was too scared to talk to anyone or make any friends.

But since last October, I got over that fear -- I had to -- it was the only way I was going to stay sober. So now, I spend as much time as possible with my homegroup members ... and I don't have as much time to devote to this blog anymore.

I'll keep posting things whenever I can, but it's gonna be slow. I just didn't want anyone to think that I've "gone out" or that I don't care anymore.

I'm extremely grateful for this blog and for the online AA's out there ... the internet is a medium largely ignored by many AA's, but it has proved to be miraculous for me. Thanks to everyone who stops by!

rent-a-sponsor

I came across this mock-advertisement in the meeting binder for my homegroup. Thought it was funny, and someone else out there might like it!

so grateful

I'm so grateful for the people in AA. They make me feel like I'm not the worthless piece of sh*t that I feel like I am. I don't get it and I don't understand how it works. But I simply can't express my gratitude for the AAs in my homegroup and the AAs online.

I'm slowly learning how to say in a group that "I'm not okay". It's easier to do online but much more difficult to admit in person. I always want to pretend that everything is fine, because otherwise I'll have to explain what's wrong. I don't do that very well. I usually have no idea what's wrong -- I just feel that something is wrong, there are thousands of things that created that feeling, and I'm confused by it all. I dunno how to put chaos into words. So all my life I've found that it's MUCH easier to pretend that everything is okay. Besides, who doesn't want to be okay? I want to be okay, everyone else wants me to be okay, so fine then, I'll pretend to be okay. (So much for that program of rigorous honesty!)

But this is getting better. People are being patient with me. And I'm starting to get over that fear of exposure. I don't have to present a false front ... and that's a relief.

restless, irritable, and discontent

Feeling restless, irritable, and discontent tonight.

Went to a discussion meeting. It was in one of those formats where each person in the circle is asked to share. I hate that format.

Because then I know when it's going to be my turn, so I spend the entire meeting ignoring what everyone else is sharing while I come up with something to share. Then when it's my turn, my mind goes blank and I stutter meaningless drivel like an idiot.

Tonight was no exception. I don't remember what I shared, but whatever it was, it was stupid and I wish I had "passed". I should have known better.

So now I feel even worse than I did before the meeting. I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want to be alone.

seeing my story in "Bill's Story"

This was the passage that really stood out to me when I read the Big Book for the first time. When I read this, I finally knew that someone else in this world knew what I was going through. I wasn't alone anymore.

I read this passage again today, and I couldn't help but see my own story in Bill's story:

"It relieved me somewhat to learn that in alcoholics the will is amazingly weakened when it comes to combating liquor, though if often remains strong in other respects. My incredible behavior in the face of a desperate desire to stop was explained. Understanding myself now, I fared forth in high hope. For three or four months the goose hung high. I went to town regularly and even made a little money. Surely this was the answer self- knowledge.

But it was not, for the frightful day came when I drank once more. The curve of my declining moral and bodily health fell off like a ski-jump. After a time I returned to the hospital. This was the finish, the curtain, it seemed to me. My weary and despairing wife was informed that it would all end with heart failure during delirium tremens, or I would develop a wet brain, perhaps within a year. We would soon have to give me over to the undertaker of the asylum.

They did not need to tell me. I knew, and almost welcomed the idea. It was a devastating blow to my pride. I, who had thought so well of myself and my abilities, of my capacity to surmount obstacles, was cornered at last. Now I was to plunge into the dark, joining that endless procession of sots who had gone on before. I thought of my poor wife. There had been much happiness after all. What would I not give to make amends. But that was over now.

No words can tell of the loneliness and despair I found in that bitter morass of self-pity. Quicksand stretched around me in all directions. I had met my match. I had been overwhelmed. Alcohol was my master.

Trembling, I stepped from the hospital a broken man. Fear sobered me for a bit. Then came the insidious insanity of that first drink, and on Armistice Day 1934, I was off again. Everyone became resigned to the certainty that I would have to be shut up somewhere, or would stumble along to a miserable end. How dark it is before the dawn! In reality that was the beginning of my last debauch. I was soon to be catapulted into what I like to call the fourth dimension of existence. I was to know happiness, peace, and usefulness, in a way of life that is incredibly more wonderful as time passes."

(Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 7-8)

In fact, out of all of the AA speakers I've ever heard, they tell this same story in their own different ways.

It's awesome to hear the stories of so many people -- who all became alcoholic in different ways, found AA in different ways, worked the Twelve Steps in different ways, and express their gratitude in different ways -- but in the end, it all sums up here. We're all the same ... and we're not alone.

there aren't enough days in a weekend

One would think an adult would have mastered this level of reasoning, but sometimes it still surprises me that when I choose to do "Activity A", I miss out on "Activity B". There's always some sort of sacrifice involved when these kinds of decisions are made.

I don't like making that sacrifice. I don't like the sense of urgency that comes from running out of time. I don't like resigning myself to the fact that the weekend is OVER, and I will be a corporate zombie for the next five days until another weekend rolls around.

But I suppose I should shut up and be grateful that because I'm sober today, I can make decisions on how to spend my free time.

When I was drinking, my decisions automatically defaulted and locked to "get drunk". In early sobriety, my decisions defaulted to attending several AA meetings each day and filling the hours between meetings with blogging, reading, etc -- because I had to fight the urge to drink.

But now, my decisions don't default to anything. I don't have to drink anymore, and I don't have to fight drinking either.

Sometimes it's overwhelming to suddenly have so many options that previously didn't exist. I want to do everything, see everything, participate in everything ... but it simply isn't possible.

I'm just grateful to be sober today, to have a family, to have friends, and to have choices ...

DMV adventures, and keeping "faith"

This morning, I used my last vacation day today to get the registration for my new car. My bosses are very strict about missing work -- so I had to use my last vacation day.

I got to the DMV this morning at 8:15 to register the car. The office didn't open until 9, but there were already 20 people waiting in line.

After waiting in line for 1.5 hours, the DMV clerk informed me that the company that sold me my car messed up the title. Their notary signed her name on the wrong line. The DMV could not take the title, so I could not register my car.

When I got the loan from the bank a few weeks ago, I remembered the loan officer told me that I had to bring the title to her. So I took the title to the loan officer and explained the situation about the notary issue. She had me sign the title, and she notarized next to my name. She said that should clear it up.

Then I vaguely remembered seeing an affidavit in the sales paperwork, stating something about a printer problem. So I went back home to read that again. Sure enough, it was regarding a printer problem on the title. That must be why the notary info was off.

I called the DMV to ask if this affidavit would clear up the problem. They assured me it would.

So I went back to the DMV. I waited in line for 3 -- three -- THREE hours.

When I finally got up to the counter, the DMV clerk told me that the affidavit was useless because the original notary had signed on the wrong line, and that the second notary stamp from the lady at the bank voided the title. Greeaaat.

The clerk shook her head, gave me a form to send to the sellers, and said "Good luck getting that back -- it's your only chance."

One part of me wanted to go postal, another part wanted to cry. This was my last vacation day ... how was I going to get another day off work to do this again?

But my autopilot took over in stoic mode. I thanked the clerk and calmly went back to my car to make some phone calls.

I went back to the bank and informed the loan officer that she had voided the title. She was extremely apologetic. I was extremely aggravated ... but that damn autopilot took over again, and I felt myself smile and tell her that it was okay ... even though everything on the inside screamed that it wasn't okay.

(Where does that autopilot come from anyway? In some cases, it's good, because I don't blow up at people. But it's bad in other cases because I don't stand up for myself when I should ...)

Fortunately I was able to get in contact with someone at the company that sold me my car. I explained the situation, and she said she would order a duplicate title and would also fill out the form from the DMV clerk. I'm so glad they're willing to work with me.

Things could always be worse ... at least I didn't go postal.

After that, I went on to work to try to salvage a few vacation hours back. I explained what happened to one of my coworkers.

When I told her about how frustrated I got, she asked, "Did you lose your faith?"

I've never thought about it like that before. I suppose losing my temper and getting upset would be like losing my faith. Because when I turn my will and my life over to God, I have nothing to become angry over.

And at the end of the day, I went to a meeting ... got to see people I care about stay sober. That was cool. I was glad that I stayed sober too.

the sense of impending doom

I remember watching TV with my dad when I was a kid. Sometimes in a suspenseful movie, scary music would start to play. The creepy music always meant that something bad was going to happen.

Dad would make fun of the scary music and playfully chant: "Something's gonna happen; something's gonna happen; something's gonna hA----!" And then choke, play dead, or something. It always made me laugh.

I thought about that today. All day long, I've been struggling with an irrational sense of impending doom. It's as if the imaginary creepy music has started, and I'm just waiting for the sudden crash to happen any second.

I'm not sure what caused it, but there may be several contributing factors ...

• I've come up with more to list on my 4th step, but I'm nearing the point where I'm running out of things to add. I feel comfortable with my sponsor and I'm actually looking forward to the 5th step. Yeah, something is fundamentally wrong here -- I'm supposed to be scared to death about that.
  

• My job has been running smoothly ... suspiciously smoothly. I was called in to my boss's office today for an informal review with my boss and my supervisor. They had very nice things to say and were very impressed with a few things I did. So when are they going to take my red stapler, move my workstation to the basement, and stop paying me?

• I've been blissfully enjoying a relationship with a wonderful guy, and things are going great. But my past has taught me that relationships in such seemingly good condition usually end abruptly and unexpectedly for reasons that take years to understand. In this case, is it a matter of "if" or "when" it all comes crashing down?

• My new car (which I wrecked already) was inspected by the insurance adjuster last week and put into the body shop today. The insurance company is miraculously going to pay for the damage. I'm taking tomorrow morning off work to apply for the registration at the DMV. I have all the paperwork -- but it just seems that something should go wrong ... it has to.

• I feel totally useless at meetings. We're supposed to share experience, strength, and hope. But I have no relevant experience to help people with their problems, my strength comes from sadistic sarcasm (which I keep to myself because it would offend most people), and my hope is made up of childish fairy-tale faith at which most people would either laugh or become jealous. I never know the right thing to say and I'm scared to say something harmful or stupid. So I shut up during the meetings and usually stick around to chat & clean coffee pots ... I guess that's better than nothing ... or maybe it's worse?
  

It all comes down to the third step ... when we turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand Him, these kinds of concerns lose their power.

Regardless, I'm glad to be sober for one trip around the sun. Orbit #2 has begun :)

turning one year old

Mom made me a cake & got me an Easter Lilly. Doesn't that cake look good??? Thanks, mom!


With all its ups and downs, this past year was the toughest emotional roller coaster ride of my entire life. But it's also been the best year of my life.

At my first-ever AA meeting, someone told me, "You never have to take another drink again."

I desperately wanted to believe him, but it sounded too good to be true.

But today, I know it's true.

I'm grateful to be a recovering alcoholic and a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. The only reason I'm living today is because of the grace of God and the fellowship of AA.

And I'm not merely alive -- I'm living the happy, joyous, and free life that I thought I'd never have.

Thank you to everyone for helping me to reach my first birthday. You helped to make a miracle happen.

Miracles happen all the time in AA, and we see them when we keep coming back.

my first wreck

Ya know what? Cars and fire hydrants don't get along too well.

One slashed a lovely yellow-paint-coated gash along the entire length of the passenger side of my car, ripping the doors crooked, and leaving the rear tire mangled. Well done! (Boy, I'm a first class dumbass!)

It's pretty funny ... I've never been in a wreck before, even back when I was drinking. I've always prided myself in having a perfect driving record. But now that I'm a week shy of one year sober, I wreck my new car ... which I've only had for two weeks.

But I'm glad that

• nobody got hurt
  
• the fire hydrant wasn't damaged
• no other cars were involved
  
• I have insurance to cover the damage to my car
  
• my dad helped me change the tire so we could get the car home
• I still have my OLD car, so I don't need to get a rental
• the weather was nice, so I didn't get rained on or snowed on
• it wasn't dark yet, so I could inspect everything in the sunlight
  
• this happened at the perfect time of day to get to a meeting right after, so I could get out of my head and be with other people who had worse days than mine
• my sponsor & another AA friend met up with me after the meeting and shared some of their experiences banging up cars ... I didn't feel quite so stupid after hearing some of their stories
• I didn't drink, and I didn't want to
• I didn't cry, though I kinda wanted to
• God's probably sitting there laughing at me, but that's okay ... I can laugh at me too.
  

all in time

There's a saying I really cling to: "Be profound, be funny, or be quiet." I can't be profound or funny right now, so I should be quiet ... but I feel the need to slap something up here.

I'm doing okay. I'm staying sober one day at a time and trying to avoid mourning over the past or worrying about the future.

Someone asked the other day about a future goal of mine. That set off an avalanche of thought.

I did some research and found that I can't achieve that goal with the small income from my current job. I'll need a higher-paying job. But my employment history is in such bad shape, I'm extremely lucky just to have my current job ... nobody else would want me right now.

So maybe I'm right where I should be. For now. That future goal will just have to wait. It isn't time yet.

It's tempting to sit here and fume about how stupid I was years ago, and how I "should have" done this or that, and "if only" I hadn't been so stupid, I would have more opportunities today ... so now I'm a loser and an idiot and all I can do is suck it up and bear the consequences of my past actions. Waaa. Pardon me while I cry a river.

But wallowing in misery wouldn't change anything. In the mean time, I can be grateful for what I have today and concentrate on what God wants me to do today.

I know people who have just lost loved ones, others who are watching loved ones destroy themselves, others who are struggling to make ends meet, and others who seem to have no problems at all. In the grand scheme of things, I have no problems at all ...

When I stop focusing on what I don't have, I see the miracles of the blessings in my life today. There are so many.

off day

Sometimes I really want to talk to people, and other times, I wish I could disappear into the wall. Tonight was one of those nights where I was glad to be at a meeting but I would have given anything to be invisible.

There was no valid reason to feel like this.

Work has been uncomfortable for the past month. One of my coworkers pretends that I don't exist. It started on my first day on the job: every morning for the past six months, I'll smile and say "Good morning" to her and she completely ignores me -- for the entire day, regardless of what I do or say -- she pretends I'm not there. She does this to several other people too ... so whatever it is, it's her problem. And management keeps assigning mind-numbing projects to us ("Here, put these 7,000 dusty file folders in alphabetical order -- by Friday. Oh and don't fall behind on your regular work. No overtime is allowed.").

For the most part, I'm not having a hard time with work. Yeah, sometimes it gets under my skin when my coworker repeatedly ignores me. But whatever ... she has her issues, and if I feel offended by her issues, my that's my problem. And sometimes it gets under my skin when management imposes ridiculous deadlines for seemingly never-ending mundane tasks. But that's what management is for. Their job is to keep me busy.

Sometimes I worry about the future. All of these worries are self-centered fear. I'm afraid of losing something. But when I consider how a change of circumstance that causes me to lose something could possibly benefit someone I love, I become willing to let go ... and I stop worrying about it. It's difficult to let go and STAY that way. I keep taking it back. That annoys me. This stuff is so hard to let go of and so easy to take back.

But when I remember the hell my life was when I was drinking, and consider the miracles that have happened in sobriety ... these silly annoyances don't carry so much weight anymore. I have choices today that I didn't have before. I've found a new source of security that can't be shaken by anything or anyone -- unless I allow it.

Lately, my days have mostly consisted of repeatedly stepping away from the center of the universe. Because as the day goes on, I'll somehow float back to the center, and once again find myself expecting the universe to revolve around ME. Then I'll have to step aside again. "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him." I have to make that decision many times every day.

And it all comes back to the meeting tonight. Even at the "meeting before the meeting" ... I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be there with everyone because I love them and deeply care about them ... but I felt so uncomfortable that I only wanted to watch from a distance, and I was absolutely miserable the entire time. This feeling comes and goes at random. I really didn't want to feel this way tonight. I hated every second of it. I still don't understand what this feeling is or why it keeps coming back.