File this one under “what it’s like now.” Yesterday, I discovered water covering my bathroom floor. At first, I’d just thought it was because I hadn’t closed the shower curtain all the way. I mopped it up, put the bathmat back down, and didn’t think much more of it. But later in the day, I discovered more water. “Great,” I thought, “the toilet’s leaking.” So I put down some towels.
When I woke up this morning, the towels were soaked through. I grumbled a bit to myself about having to have the maintenance folks come out, and went downstairs to make coffee. In the kitchen (which is below the bathroom), I discovered another puddle. Not a huge puddle, but not a small one either. I checked the ceiling. Nothing was dripping, but there was a wet spot about the size of my hand.
I’d had the toilet fixed a few months back. It had come unsealed. When the guy fixed it, he didn’t exactly do it the way it’s supposed to be done. Instead of using a new sealing ring, he just reset the commode on the old one. My plumber friends would no doubt hit the roof at that. And even I know that you need to use a new ring or else it doesn’t seal properly. You end up with water everywhere, soaked floors, moldy linoleum, and much more work to deal with than if you’d just taken a little extra trouble to do the job right in the first place.
I called the emergency number for maintenance this morning and they’ve got someone on the way.
Now, I could use this as a story about how important it is to make a larger investment early on in Recovery to save yourself some headaches later. 90-in-90 isn’t just a good idea because it gives you something else to do besides get loaded when you’re first trying to get clean & sober; it’s a great way to help you reprogram your brain when it’s the most malleable. But, for me, the bigger point is how I handled this situation.
I didn’t yell or scream. I didn’t go on a tirade about having water all over the place. I didn’t rage against the maintenance guys--either out loud or in my head--for doing a poor job the first time around. I didn’t run a huge imaginary scenario in my head, obsessing over whether I might have to move to a new place while they fix this one up. I was almost ridiculously calm when I called them today, and when I discovered the water this morning. About the only outward signs were one comment I made about feeling cranky and another about hoping to not have to move. And that matched what was going on on the inside.
The weird part isn’t that I didn’t throw a fit, it’s that it didn’t even occur to me to do so. I’m not saying I’m stoked about having to deal with this, I’m saying that I didn’t have much of a reaction at all. There was a problem and I dealt with it. Action was taken, and in a timely fashion. That’s the miracle of Recovery, right there. No need to overreact, no need to throw a fit or place blame or anything like that. I saw a problem, and I took action to deal with it. Done deal, case closed.
Before we get Recovery, so much of our lives are crises. Things that normal folks consider no big deal are huge ordeals. Every little thing is a nightmare and a headache and causes us to go off the deep end with wild, disproportionate reactions. Now, having had some Recovery, I find that things which normal people might consider genuine crises are things that I handle calmly and easily.
I can’t exactly explain it. I’ve never taken a class on stress or anger management. I don’t remember anyone ever sharing in a meeting that, “oh yeah, when your pipes burst there’s no need to be angry or pitch a fit, just call the maintenance folks blah blah blah,” ya know? It’s that working the program has given me peace, serenity. I’m centered within myself and calm in my dealings with the world.
It’s like I was telling one of my sponsees recently: the miracle of Recovery isn’t just that you get to stay sober, it’s that by working the program, working on ourselves, our lives almost magically improve in miraculous ways, seemingly unrelated ways. It might not seem connected, but it is. The work of Recovery is work on our innermost selves. That’s where our disease is--at our spiritual center. When we treat that, when we work to become spiritually healthy, the effects of it, the results, show up in every other facet of our lives.
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