“Being Understood”

It’s a hot Sunday. The air is heavy, sticky, what weather in supposed to be like this time of year. I think the cool summer has spoiled me a little. I’m sitting inside at my favorite caffeinating hole, oddly enough drinking a non-caffeine concoction. The place is full, but relatively quiet. It’s a good thing, too, since I’m in need of some peace.

I went to a birthday meeting today, an AA group I go to only occasionally. Picked up my 3-year AA chip, and listened to the shares. It’s a good meeting, with a lot of joy and some petty damn good Recovery. It’s also a very clique-y meeting, and one that I’ve never felt especially welcomed at. And that’s ok. There are MANY meetings out there like that. I may hit an NA birthday meeting up later tonight, we’ll see.

Something someone shared at the meeting got me thinking. It was about having a desire for peace, for calm. He talked about how he wanted life to stop being so crazy, and how growing up [mentally] in the program meant learning that life was always going to be crazy; we can’t stop it, we can only learn how to deal with it better.

The voice of Recovery in my head hears that and launches into a standard shpiel of how, when we take care of and are centered within ourselves, the insanity of the world doesn’t bother us. And that’s true, but I’m a little tired and not really in a frame of mind right now to pontificate on it.

The chamomile & soy milk of my drink is very soothing. I sip it and can feel the warmth flowing like liquid solace through my veins.

I’m remembering something I learned in a psychology class--that people who suffer from depression are actually better in touch with reality than those who don’t. Most people go through life with rose-colored glasses, not seeing (or choosing not to see) the harsh realities of reality. Not sure why I find myself thinking about that, except perhaps that when I’m spiritually tired, I tend to see those things more than at other times.

I’ve spent more than my fair share of moments being frustrated at the world, wishing it would be different, or at the very least not so righteously fucked up. Learning acceptance, practicing letting go of things I can’t change, these are the tools I’ve gotten from working the program and they’ve helped me a lot with that, but I still find myself looking around at the world from time to time and shaking my head. It doesn’t make sense. It probably never will.

I think I’m just feeling a lot of that feeling-like-an-outsider feeling I get from time to time. And I’m not sure there’s much to be said or done about it; it’s just where I’m at right now.

I will share this, though: one of my friends from my homegroup called me ‘wise’ recently. Another talked (and not for the first time) about how much he appreciated my shares. I try to handle complements, especially those kind, with grace, balancing being appreciative with not overindulging my ego.

I really do appreciate it when people tell me those things, though, and they help me more than I’m usually willing to admit. The insecurity and worthlessness my Disease spits at me never really quits. It fades into the background, more and more so the longer I work the program. Those reminders that I am loved, by people who really know me, understand who I am and what I’ve been through because they’ve been there themselves, those are the moments I really treasure. They may be few and far between, but they are what sustains me on days like today where I’m tired and the insanity of the world feels like too much.