"11 Days and Counting"

I keep thinking that I need to have a censored picture of myself here. Something about that whole anonymity thing. I don't use my last name and protect other people's anonymity, but still. Having a picture of myself, even one that most people wouldn't recognize as me? I'll think on it some more.

My two-year sobriety birthday is coming up soon. I'm doing my best to keep on, one day at a time, but am definitely conscious of it. Maybe on the day itself I'll write a reflection of the past couple years. Though I do have a lot planned for that day already. My two homegroup fellowships are having BBQs--both on that day and in almost the same location. I have been thinking about the big 2 off and on for awhile. I'm sure at some point I'll be better able to just sit back, relax, and let it be.

After a relapse on the cigarettes, I am back to day 2 there. It feels good to still be trying. The temptation is so strong to just say fuckit and pick back up. But I'd really rather not. I'm being a little more aggressive in my attempt to quit now. Before, I was just chewing the nicotine gum as much as I needed or wanted to. Now, I've actually got myself on a reduction regiment. In time, it will be done. Just gotta keep reminding myself that I'm worth it.

I even gave myself a little incentive last night. When I was unemployed, I was doing a lot of exercising and I'd even started running. This was huge for me. I was the kid who NEVER did anything active. I didn't play sports. I didn't have friends I ran around and played with. For god sakes, I was the kid who was picked last in P.E. after all the girls. But I've been feeling that itch to run for a few months now because I know it will be great exercise and I want to show myself what I'm capable of. And yes, I want to look good naked. Who doesn't? Since I went back to work, the exercise has fallen way down the priority list. So last night I went on my walk/run. I'd been on a plan to gradually step up the amount of running I did over time. Last night, I ran half a mile. Not all at once, just a quarter mile at a time with a quarter mile walk in-between. But it felt good to push myself. It had probably been a week since I'd ran and I had only done a quarter mile before.

There is something this Recovery thing does, a transformation that takes place. The craziest part of it is that it happens almost naturally, just by continuing to show up. If you go to enough meetings, you'll start thinking about how you need to get a sponsor and work the steps. You'll find a desire to be of service. And ever so gradually, you will come to the amazing realization that you are a person of worth and value. It can happen even faster if it's something you actively pursue. But even if you don't, even if you just keep on showing up for meetings, keep coming back, the change will happen. There's an indescribable energy of healthy meetings. When you've put yourself in the middle of a group of people who are actively working to be more spiritual, who are actively moving towards being healthier, you move with them in the same direction.

Letting go is so important. "Let go or be dragged," the saying goes. I prefer, "allow it to happen," because that's what worked for me, but it really doesn't matter. It's whatever works for each person.

I have so much in my life to be grateful for these days. Some of it was already there, I just didn't know how to be grateful for it and accepting of it. I have a good home, food in the fridge (okay, the freezer--I'm a guy, what do you want?) I'm pretty damn lucky to be alive. Today, it feels like the biggest difference in my life is how I look at it. There are many, many, other differences of course, but in this moment that seems to be the big one. I could go on about being able to be honest now, or being a man of integrity, or of strength and courage, and those are all very good things. I'm really grateful for those changes and for being able to see them. But the biggest change of all seems to be the very fact that I can be grateful now.

Praise be.

"Life Keeps Happening"

Stay sober, work the steps, call your sponsor, blah blah blah ;-) I'm kidding, of course. A little silliness over here for various reasons.

It's a Monday and I'm at the evil job place. There is all kinds of drama going on, but I'm keeping strong boundaries. I was thinking earlier that strong boundaries can be really tough sometimes. If your neighbor's house gets bombed, your house might not have been touched but the foundation might be shaken; there might not be any broken windows, but the explosion sure can rattle them. This is all a very metaphorical way of trying to say that I'm still working, but matters surrounding my job are highly chaotic. One day at a time is how I'm doing it. I'm working this week; that's what I know. The future is something I can't control. So I stay in the moment, offer a listening ear to those affected, and try to be compassionate towards the spiritually sick.

But even the insanity of this place and the boredom of my job on a Monday of all days is not enough to dampen my spirits. I had an amazing weekend, full of working with others. Two of my sponsees did ther fifth steps this weekend. Wow. My sponsor had warned me that I'd be pretty drained by the time it was all over. I was, a bit, but mostly I was exhilarated. Yes, active listening for an extended period of time can be tiring. But for me, the healing power of being on the receiving end of a fifth step was a spiritual rush. My sponsor gave me big props for doing the deal. He says I really walk the walk, and I appreciate the support. To me, most of the credit goes to my sponsees. They're the ones who stuck with it and did the work of pushing through their fourth steps.

I heard from a third sponsee, too. He's reached that place so many of us do where the newness of sobriety is wearing off. He's feeling some fear and frustration. It was clear right away that what's going on is he's coming down off his pink cloud. I talked to him about it, let him know that it's something we all go through, and that he's right where he's supposed to be. By end of the conversation, he was feeling much better.

I had a few phone conversations with some friends, and each of them commented to me about how good I sounded. One of them was particularly concerned with the difficulty I'd had in my personal life (yes, there was that happening through all of this this weekend, too) and the other had been concerned about my dealing with so much life stuff in general. But I felt good because I had accomplished so much and because of how things had gone with my sponsees. There was some time, too, to work on my music this weekend, and that makes me happy more often than not, as well. Since I went back to work, that's been a difficult thing to find time for.

It's kind of funny. I was unemployed for just long enough to figure out how to fill up my life. Since going back to work, it's been a major restructuring process. How to fit in everything I had going in my life, now that I had significantly less time in the day. And also a few new very good things on top of it. It's working itself out. The key, as always, seems to be to keep putting Recovery first. Keep going to meetings, keep on being of service and working with others. Take care of myself, live according to the spiritual principles of the program to the best of my abilities and the rest of it takes care of itself. No, that's not right, because it doesn't give credit where credit is due. I do my part, and God takes care of the rest.

Keep moving forward. Keep doing the next right thing. Keep on keepin' on.

"Giving Back"

Also known as Being Of Service. There's lots of ways. If you're new, you can be of service just by being at a meeting. If you've built up a little time, you can make coffee or take a Secretary or Literature position. If you've been coming around for awhile, you can take a Treasurer, GSR, or General Secretary spot. Having a service commitment is one of the pillars of my program and I stress the importance of it to all my sponsees.

One of the meetings I attend has a shortage right now of people willing and able to take higher-level service commitments. The meeting is well-attended, but as people get time, they either stop attending regularly or choose to not be of service, or both. I was talking with my sponsor about the situation and we had ourselves a few choice words of agreement about the subject.

If no one were of service, there would be no meetings. And the concept doesn't apply to just meeting-related positions, either. I hear people share about having finished their steps, and yet don't go on to that crucial part of, "...and now I'm available to sponsor others." What if my sponsor had gotten sober and said, "well, thanks all, that was great; see you around!" He wouldn't have been there for me when I needed a sponsor. Maybe I wouldn't even be sober today. Maybe he wouldn't either.

The best comment I've ever heard on this issue is what an old-timer said in an AA meeting once. She had over twenty years of sobriety under her belt, and yet still chaired meetings. She sponsored other women. She took the occasional Secretary gig. She said that she kept on being of service for a very simple reason: she owed. She owed a debt to the program that she could never--ever--fully repay. Being of service was the least she could do to try. The program had saved her life. The least she could do was give others the same chance.

Occasionally, someone will nominate me for a meeting Secretary position. I chuckle and then respectfully decline. I've been a Secretary many times; give someone with less time the chance to reap the rewards of this part of the program. If they try to insist, try to give me grief, then I go ahead and list my current service work out for them: I'm a Treasurer; I'm the area committee chair; I'm sponsoring three men who are actively working their steps. And oh yes, I do the newsletter for our area, too. Then I ask them what service they are currently doing. Their answer, more often than not, goes something like this: "Uhh... nothing."

I owe. I owe the program my life, maybe more figuratively than literally, but then again maybe not. The last time I had a really bad bout of depression, it was my friends in the program that held me up and kept me from drowning. I've learned things through working the program I never thought I could, not the least of which is that I Am Enough. For me, I continue to work the program, and part of that means continuing to be of service. I can't make anyone else be of service. I can't make any other sponsors make their sponsees be of service. But I tell all my sponsees how crucial it is. Because we owe. We wouldn't be here today, we wouldn't be where we are today if it weren't for those who had come before us giving back and showing us the way. Now that we're living clean and sober, it's our turn to do the same. It's our turn to help others.

To me, the fullest meaning of 'we only keep what we have by giving it away' is this: I was given a life through working this program that I never would have dreamed possible. That's a gift beyond measure. And the way I get to keep it is by helping others, and giving them a chance to have the same.

"Some Days Are Like This"

So here's more proof that I am still an addict: I've been trying to quit smoking, right? Made it past the two week mark, then had a real bad craving day yesterday. Woke up this morning, tried to meditate and couldn't. On my way to work--which I was already late for--I stopped to buy a pack of cigarettes. I smoked half of one and threw it away because it tasted nasty, made me feel horrible, and my lungs felt awful. Half an hour later, I'm smoking another one. And this time I'm gonna finish it, goddammit.

I'm completely conscious of what I'm doing. I don't want to do it, and yet I'm doing it anyway. I know all the health reasons why I shouldn't. I'm fully aware that I'm doing it to escape and cope and deal with what's happening in life at this moment. And I do it anyway. For those who aren't aware, this is part of the addiction pattern: you want to stop and yet keep on doing it anyway. In all honesty, I'm flat-out amazed I didn't do it last night. And what's more, do I feel better after having a cigarette? Nope. It doesn't help. It doesn't work for me anymore. And I do it anyway.

My mind fishes out a memory of trying to quit smoking when I was still married. When I relapsed, she'd said to me, "I knew you weren't strong enough to quit." Thank God that, in the rooms of Recovery, we don't shoot our wounded.

Some people might argue that a relapse on smoking cigarettes isn't that big of a deal. Then again, some people say cigarettes are more addictive than heroin. I suspect that most heroin addicts would tell you to fuck off if you said that to them. Relapse on drugs or alcohol isn't part of my story (yet), but I know a fair bit about it. There is a natural progression that happens. And I can look at my life in this moment and see what's going on with me that I'm where I'm at with these evil cancer sticks.

Work. Is really. Pissing. Me. Off. Wait, wait, let's rephrase that properly: I'm really pissed off about my work situation. (Better.) Actually, it's not so much that I'm pissed off as it is that I'm feeling such a strong sense of futility. I'd felt so optimistic, so hopeful for my music, and today the reality I've always had such a hard time accepting is really hard to accept: that most people hate their jobs; that I just have to do it because it's part of life. And, of course, there's all the added instability of these economic times, the fact that I'm only a temp right now and don't know how much longer I will be working, and the stress of the job itself.

It's not all about the job. There are issues in my personal life, with my family, a strained relationship with my sponsor, and what it's like for me, what happens with me, is a sense of futility begins to set in. Why. Bother.

Depression is not where I'm at, but it is a state I know very well. I've spent many, many hours frustrated with this life thing. There is anger at the world, unable or willing to accept it as it is; there is anger at myself for feeling how I feel; anger at imagined voices that tell me to get over myself and stop whining; and as I write all this I hear a new thought come into my mind... that I'm pissed off because I'm being reminded just how powerless I really am.

Thank God for that. Because this is something I know how to deal with.

I am still powerless over the people, places, and things I can't control. My life is still unmanageable. When I try to control, when I try to run things, I go insane. My job is to let go; to let God take care of it. I can't do it. He can. So let him.

Sometimes, faith is easy. Sometimes not. Sometimes, faith sounds like this:

"Okay, God; I really don't like what's going on right now and I really don't understand it. And for the life of me I really can't figure out what you're up to. But if you show me the path, I will walk it. Tell me which way to go. Reveal to me the next step to take. Give me knowledge of your will and the power to carry it out. My life belongs to you. I give you my will to do with as you see fit. Move me; help me to be your instrument and do your will in the world. Cause ya know, if I try to do my will, all I'm gonna do is fuck shit up. Amen."

Hmm... I think I just might print that prayer up and post it on my bedroom wall.

((Update: after I wrote this entry, I took the rest of the pack of cigarettes I'd bought and threw them in a dumpster.))

"Wisdom To Know The Difference"

Lil' Joshua is screaming right now, the way a baby wails when frightened by too many loud noises. Sometimes the hardest thing in the world can be to not have a tantrum, slam doors, throw things. I'm using my tools today. Especially prayer.

I came into work unsettled. Since getting here, I was copied on an email talking about the woman who's going to be taking over the job I'm doing here. That's twice now that 'my' job has been given to someone else. Then I spilled coffee all over my workstation and myself. I was livid. In two and a half years, I've never once spilled coffee at my desk. Had to plug in a new keyboard and I'll be dealing with a cold, wet pant leg for hours.

It will be alright. It's alright now, of course. I've just got a lot of questions running through my mind. Questions about straight-up life issues. Kind of a shame. I was all set to write about honesty and truth and be inspirational, but life is doing something different than what I want yet again. I remind myself that I'm not alone, that there are many others like me who have just as hard a time accepting when life doesn't go the way we want it to. On another day, maybe the sequence of events wouldn't bother me. Today, it's got me freaking the fuck out.

Breathe. Breathe. Remember that this, too, shall pass. Remember that I still don't have a lot of experience accepting life on life's terms. Remember that my life is unmanageable. I can't do it, only God can. And I need to let him.

The program of Recovery isn't a way to get off drugs or alcohol, it's a way to live life for those of us who don't know how.

I'm thinking once again about how this job isn't me. I'm feeling frustrated that I might not ever get to do with my life what I want to do. I'm worried that I will always be stuck, having to pretend to be just another drone. I remember that it isn't up to me, it's up to God, and that he will lead me if I let him. I find gratitude that I'm not starving or homeless or hungry. I give myself a break because I'm not throwing things or slamming doors or breaking things no matter how much I might want to. I give myself credit that I'm not getting loaded. I may want more than anything else to throw my hands up and say, "fuck it!" And let it all go to hell, but I don't. Instead, I work my program, I use my tools, and I sit back down at my desk and keep moving forward.

I remember, too, that it isn't always hard, it's just hard right now. And it's not hard because what I'm going through is hard, it's hard simply because I'm still an addict and I still have bad days. We all do. It's part of life.

Outside, I prayed for guidance. I asked to be shown the way and for help to get through. A rough-cut version of the eleventh step. "God, tell me what you want me to do and help me to do it." And within me I felt the urge to say the serenity prayer. I confess, I did it with my own little favorite twist.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change what I can, and wisdom to know the motherfuckin difference."

"I'm Not Hungry"

((This is TOTD blog #100! Cool...))

Ah guilt. My favorite saying about guilt goes like this: if someone is giving you a guilt trip, think of it like they're serving you a shit sandwich. All you have to do is say, "no thanks, I'm not hungry."

Those of us with this disease can serve up shit sandwiches, too. One of the worst is to throw our Recovery back in someone's face. Maybe we got into recovery because one of our loved ones threatened to leave us. The process takes a while. When there isn't immediate improvement, our loved ones can become just as frustrated. When we are new, we haven't address issues of behavior yet. We're focused solely on staying clean and sober, one day at a time. Our loved ones might get impatient at the apparent lack of progress. Maybe they say something to us about our behavior or our attitude and we react. Poorly. We might even tell them something like: "Back off! I'm doing this for YOU". File that under 'F' for 'fucked up'.

We don't do Recovery for other people. We do it for ourselves, because we don't want to live that other way any more.

Our families can really serve up those shit sandwiches. They have known us longer than anyone else. They know how to push our buttons, manipulate us. Our romantic partners do, too. My ex-wife used to push and prod and poke me until I blew up at her, then point her finger at me and say, "see!! You DO have an anger problem." Or maybe they try to make us feel guilty for not going to a family dinner that we didn't want to because we knew eveyone there would be drinking. Maybe our families are extremely codependent and only know how to communicate through using guilt.

Guilt is evil shit. Sorry to be so profane here, but it's a worthy topic for it. It's one thing when we feel legitimately guilty for harm we have done. It's something else entirely when others try to make us feel guilty when we haven't done anything wrong. It's a tool of a manipulation. People try to control us, make us do what they want us to do or feel the way they think we should feel. It's works both ways. We can do the same to others, but we don't have to.

Any time we attempt to control something we can't control, we feed our disease, make it stronger. When we let others control us, our self-esteem suffers, and that feeds our disease, too. We don't have to let others control us. No one else gets to tell us what to think or how to feel.

Standing up to guilt takes strong, healthy, boundaries. That's something not many of us know when we start our Recovery. Thankfully, it is something we can learn. We can learn to recognize when someone is trying to make us feel guilty. We can learn that we don't have to go there. We can learn to see that shit sandwhich being served up and say, "no thanks. I'm not hungry."

"Regular Inventory"

I've heard some people describe steps ten, eleven, and twelve as 'maintenance steps'. I understand what they're getting at. You've done the other steps, and these are the steps you keep on doing to stay on the spiritual path. For myself, I've found it more useful to keep working all twelve, but that's just me in this moment of my Recovery. These last three steps, though, are a distillation of the previous nine. Step ten is about us; step eleven is about God; step twelve is about working with others. So, if just working these three steps works for someone, I get that.

Step Ten: continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

A full-on tenth step can be a fair share of writing. I try to keep something of a tenth-step attitude, just in general as I go about my day to day life. It's important for me to be mindful. I need to stay in touch with myself and with my disease. It's almost like how diabetics need to check their blood on a regular basis. If something's out of whack, they make adjustments. I do the same. I look at myself, examine my motives, see what I'm doing and if it's working. If it isn't, then I can change it. If I make a mistake, I take care of it promptly instead of letting it snowball into something unmanageable.

Checking in with me doesn't have to be a torturous process, either. It can be as simple as being detached and noticing things. "Hmm, I'm feeling a lot anger today; interesting." Or I can take a more humorous approach to it, which, for someone like me who used to take himself WAY too seriously, can be important. "Oh great, Uncle Steve's watching THAT channel again..." "Yeah, lil Joshua has been whining about wanting to play on the swingset for days..." These are both just different ways of admitting to myself that I'm stuck on something, or being childish.

As I continue to stay sober, continue working the program, my instincts are slowly changing. I'm thinking less of myself and more of others. I'm living a more spiritually-centered life. But I am still an addict. I will always be an addict. Keeping a tenth-step state of mind helps me to stay in touch with myself and keep my less-spiritual side at bay.