“The Party”

This blog is second in a five-part series titled “The Dream”, a write-up I did of a very vivid dream I had. Even though it wasn't specifically about the Disease, the dream’s subject—feeling  different, inhuman—is something all those of us who suffer from addiction can relate to.

* * *

I made friends quickly, and everyone there was friendly to me. They accepted me, embraced me, wanted to get to know me and have me join in and celebrate with them. This was not a party where people sulked in the shadows. Everyone was part of the joy, the fun. And it was authentic; no one there just pretended to have a good time or put on airs, fronting for the sake of appearances. Everyone belonged and everyone participated.

It was easy for me to get swept up in it. I stopped worrying about what the others thought, these strangers who had welcomed me to their very special event. I let go of my fear of what might happen if I let go. I let myself be a part of.

No matter what was going on, I joined in. Music was played and performed. It took a little prodding, but I got up and sang with the others, ultimately singing a song or two solo. Somehow there was a way for me to share my own music with them. It was embraced as well--not as some great achievement above and beyond the other music, but as a deeply cherished piece of the greater whole. I had brought my real self to the party, was sharing the deepest parts of me, and that was what was celebrated--the communion, honest and deep and true. We were Dionysian revelers, celebrating celebration with our fullest selves.