Day 241: Mama Bird, Baby Bird

The early bird catches the worm.

And, in this case, the baby bird too. With my trip to Ireland just days away, I have to make sure that my obligations are honored and taken care of here, in my real life. And, making sure my dear Mama is taken care of on Mother’s Day is priority number one today.

I leave for Ireland on Mother’s Day. And, while I plan to call, this year I want to make sure she knows how much she really means to me. Not that I’ve been a bad daughter in previous years, but, this year, with all the lessons learned, I have truly come to appreciate the support of my family, and, especially my mother. She’s been there for me through the ins and outs of my life. From cradle to present. Never a moment where I thought I couldn’t depend on her.

So, I went shopping for a few of her favorite Oregon treats, wrapped ‘em up, and shipped ‘em out along with a note trying to explain how much she means to me, and, how this year, in recovery and out, has changed me. We have a special relationship that’s changed and morphed throughout the years, but, it’s always been strong.

I think about her as I prepare for my solo trip abroad. Her influence in my life has played a big part in the strong woman I’ve become. I learned a lot of valuable life lessons from her, through observation and direct teaching. As the warm, Tuesday sun shines down on me, it reminds me how grateful I am for the light in my life. The light I have today. But, I remember too, there were times I stood in the dark, and, there stood my mother, the light itself.

So, with USPS’ guarantee that my package will arrive before the big day on Sunday, I can breathe easy. And, as I pull out of the parking lot, the thought occurs to me that I am truly happy that today I have all the tools available to me in my life to make it easy and imperative that I thank the people in my life.

I have got it pretty darn good. I didn’t always see it that way before. And, now that I do, I want to let the people who held me up when I was down know that no one’s a hopeless cause. Even me. And, the fact that I’m still here today, breathing, and happy is in large part due the the loving care of my Mama Bird.

Day 240: Sublime

Love is what I got.

As the 5th Step ick begins to, slowly but surely, wash away, I’m left with the glitter and the gold.

That relief I was hoping for, well, I didn’t get that. But, I did get something else, something even better. I got a new set of eyes. All those things and people I used to look on with such disgust; the blame, shame, anger, manipulation, narcissism, that I used to wield , they all melt at my sides and fall away. And, all those little things that have bothered me in sobriety seem inconsequential.

If I’m given this opportunity to “start over” then, why hold on to all that garbage in the here and now. All those things that are so intricately linked to old, bad behavior, don’t serve me here, in this moment. And, completing my 5th Step has allowed me to see that change is possible. It requires awareness and work. But, after looking at the guts of my past, the maintenance work in the present moment hardly seems work at all if I can say that I will live in a better way than I was living before.

As I lay huddled next to Lars in bed, clad in pajamas, watching movies, he nodded off to sleep. I looked at him for a moment and realized that I wasn’t thinking. I could just feel my love for him rising off my skin like radioactive waves. I’ve watched Lars sleep before. And usually my mind runs. Thoughts about us, our future, our little problems, our surprisingly compatible incompatibilities. But, tonight, there was not a thought to be had. I just lay there, feeling. Feeling different. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Feeling the comfort and ease of just sleeping in the company of someone else.

Suddenly, it seems so easy. To just let go of all this crap. The crap I used to cling to, and, for what? Little dramas that I created just to keep my mind busy and my  heart cordoned off.

It’s not just old behavior that has to go. It’s the old thinking that leads me down these paths that so quickly twist and turn into darkness, even when I’d been right there walking in the light.

People always say, “You see what you want to see.” And, I never believed that. But it’s true. I wanted to see all the pain, hurt, and betrayal because that made it easier to throw a big ol’ pity party for myself. And, I fucking love a good pity party. The thing is, no one shows up to my pity parties except for me. And, all along, I just wanted some company.

And, here I am, in great company. Enjoying a regular Monday night, in old, ratty pajamas, next to a man who’s really given me nothing but good things in my life. And, today, I choose to let the the brush strokes create whatever kind of canvas they desire. Tonight’s story is sublime, without revision. Simple and honest in nature. Just love.

Tonight I experience a new type of freedom.

Day 239: When The Dust Clears

I woke up this morning with my 5th Step behind me.

While I did meet my sponsor for almost two hours today to tie up loose ends and review the work we’ve done thus far, the truly hard part of the 5th Step had been completed. It felt strange.

After the general icky-ness of yesterday, today feels different. Those feelings of being a truly wretched human being have diminished, but, their weight is still palatable and present. But today, that weight feels like conduit to change. The filth that seemed to cover me, head to toe, yesterday, the dirt of the past, today seems like less of a stain. Today, I want to be different.

Is this it? Is this the relief that I’ve heard so much about? The reward of the 5th Step? Well, I suppose it is, at least for today. The desire to change is something big, especially when it means changing so much of who you were. With this insight to who I was, before taking ownership of my life and my wrongdoings, I can see how far I’ve already come. As I see it, I started changing for the better the second that I set foot, with willingness, in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous.

People talk about 12 Step programs in relation to recovery, whether it’s from drug use or alcohol abuse, but, once you are in the rooms of recovery you discover that this program is so much more than saving yourself from substance abuse. In the rooms of AA, the 12 Steps are described as a design for living. And, having done the work I’ve done so far, I can say with no reservations that the design for living is really the true gift of the program.

Those of us with the strongest of wills can put down the drink or the drug and live clean. I believe that. But, the 12 Steps really allow people to take themselves on, to clean out the gutters of their lives so far beyond the substance issues that brought them to the point where they felt they had to in order to survive.

In AA we joke the everyone should work the 12 Steps, people in recovery, and regular people everywhere, the world would be a better place. And, I truly do believe that. But, I accept that it will never come to pass that all people in the great, wide world would voluntarily subject themselves to this rigorous process of self exploration and self improvement. And, while there are certainly many people in my life who are not in recovery that would most certainly benefit from a process like this, I know too that it is not my place to decide on or advise such a path for anyone but myself.

Today, though still slightly shell shocked from the gravity of yesterday’s reality, I am suddenly overwhelmed by the sincerity with which I, myself, feel I can truly change. It’s not just the willingness any longer, but, the genuine desire. It’s not just the need to stay sober in order for my life to run smoothly, but, the confidence that if I remain on this road, I will continue to find happiness, continue to see things improve, continue to be of more help and value to others.

How I came to sit in this reality today after sitting in the reality and the sad awareness of my faults only yesterday, I’m still not sure. But, I have learned not to question the how and why of AA. It works. That is all I need to know or say about it. If this feeling is relief, I’m not sure. But, I am sure that I am living in a different world today than I was yesterday. And, it’s a better world.

The dust of the 5th Step has settled, and the road ahead is long, but, I am on it. And, what’s more, I want to be on it.

Day 238: 5th Step — Holy Fucking Shit

I’ve talked about expectations, but, man, there was no expecting this: 5th Step.

I tried to go into today with no expectations. Not only because I really had no idea what to expect, but, because, I really wanted to have an organic experience. With myself. With my sponsor. With God. So, therein lay the expectation, that really, I expected nothing. And, perhaps this was a good thing, perhaps not.

I had no expectation of today’s reading of my 4th Step providing relief, but, I had that hope. And, after the epic journey of writing out my 4th Step, which in and of itself was a relief to complete, I thought that reading it–just rattling it off–would be a cinch.

Au contraire mon frere. Au contraire.

Today was a new kind of low. A low where I had a safety net built in, but, a low so bad that the net allowed me to sink in, more than just a bit, to taste and feel the murky waters of my past. It was extremely hard for me. Hard for me to look at the damage that I’d done to myself, but, also, that I was responsible for in other’s lives.

While writing my 4th Step, I could see my character defects. I could even see that they came up more than once. I started to see the patterns I had formed, starting from a very young age. But, writing all these things down was not even the half of it.

As I read my 4th Step out loud to my sponsor, as we stopped and talked about behaviors and patterns, I was completely astonished. ASTONISHED. Appalled, devastated, saddened, hurt, confused, and truly upset by the consistent behavioral patterns that dominated my life. Cruel and damaging. And, I so easily justified it all, even in writing my 4th Step, I didn’t see how I’d made all that mess “acceptable.”

I won’t go into too much detail, because the filth is mine to live with, and mine to wash away.

As I walked to my car after completing my reading, leaving my sponsor, I felt as if I were covered in dirt from head to toe. A feeling so weighty and gross that it seized me like a thick layer of dried mud that would never shower off.

When I did shower, before heading out to see Lars’ band play a show, I tried to understand this feeling. I tried to figure out how this conception of complete demoralization and regret would ever go away or benefit my growth in any way. But, I could make no rhyme or reason of it. And so, I did only as I know how to do, trust that the program of AA works, and leave today behind. On to tomorrow.

I stood at the music venue and let the deep, resonating tones of Lars’ bass fill my chest. I let myself and the day go. I wanted to feel anything other than the way I felt. And so, I let myself feel the music. I let it all go…

Today was so extremely powerful. I still am so unsure of what I just experienced.

All I know is that tomorrow is another day, and it will require another shower.

Day 237: 4th Step–Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead

After meeting with my sponsor yesterday to get the last of my instructions for finishing my 4th Step, I could taste it’s completion.

I have been working on this Godforsaken step for nearing five months now. When I first set out to do it, I had such gusto. I was going to be the exception, I was going to be the sponsee that got it done in 48 hours, maybe less, I was going to pummel my way through these steps, one by one, and conquer the program of AA, and my life! I was determined.

When it took me nearly an entire month to write down the first name on my resentment list, not even my actual resentments, effects, or my part, I realized that this process was going to be more slow going than I had anticipated or hoped. But, after diving into writing down that first name, it seemed as though I’d gained some momentum.

Wrong.

I procrastinated the SHIT out of this step. I can’t tell you how many episodes of various television series I watched on Netflix, how many loads of laundry, how many dishes I washed, bathtubs I cleaned, cigarettes I smoked, the list goes on…avoiding this step. And, yes, there were a few times that I almost drank over this step. Writing my 4th step was fucking excruciating.

I won’t sugar coat it for you, my loyal audience, nor will I sugar coat it to my sponsees, if I should ever have them. This step is brutal, heinous, and cruel. A notebook, full of fuck-ups and fuck-overs. A walk in the trenches of the past.

And, tonight, I fucking finished it.

After writing my last word, I sat for a half hour just staring at the page. Searching my brain for anything else that belonged here. Because, I am sure as fuck going to be thorough here. I want to get all this shit out NOW, because this thing is fucking epic. 120 pages of my life’s bullshit. I am in complete awe of myself for remembering all this shit, much less writing it down. And so, when I was finally satisfied that I had written everything of any importance, I said it: I am done.

A feeling of utter joy and freedom fell over me. I would no longer have to look at this little, blue journal and be reminded of all the work I had to do, all the artifacts to unearth because, muthafuckas, I did it. It is done.

I sent my sponsor a text message, reveling in my 4th Step’s notable completion.

Now, to remove this ball and chain…Tomorrow I meet my sponsor to complete my 5th Step. But today, I put my fear of that aside.

Ding dong, the Witch is dead. 4th Step is done. And, I still feel like I am living on an alternate universe. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

Day 235-236: Hammering It Out

The end of the line.

With plans to do my 5th Step on Saturday, it is absolutely imperative that I finish my 4th Step. The step that has been the bane of my existence for the last 5 months. The unclimbable mountain of shame. I’ve sat, and sat, and sat staring at my little turquoise journal, in which I do all my step work, and my pen doesn’t seem to want to move across the page.

With just days left, it becomes a matter of will.

Do I want to go to Ireland having completed my 4th and 5th Steps? Or not?

Of course the answer is, yes, I want to have those two steps under my belt and under my feet. I want to travel the glorious roads of the motherland knowing that I have done everything I can to be better myself, to be new and clean, and to be the woman that I aspire to be. My mind can try all it wants to convince me of reasons to put off the hard work in front of me, but, deep down, in the core of my soul, I know what has to be done. And, I’m going to do it.

So, these past few days have required the heavy lifting and the heavy hammer. Every time that I’ve wanted to give up, or felt that I’ve met my match, I have had to decide to keep going.

It’s like sobriety. You can only go at the pace you can go. But, along with my higher power, it’s in moments like these where I have to exercise my own will, I have to work hard, do the footwork. It’s a mental and emotional challenge. And, every time I think I’m going to break down, I have to go to the top of a cliff in Ireland in my mind. How will I feel standing there, looking out on the sea, on God’s good Earth, if I don’t have this work done? I know I won’t feel good.

So, I press on. Trudging through the mud of my past. Memories I think, sometimes, that are better left buried. Because I know that every stone left unturned here in the US is a stone I will trip over in my spiritual journey to Ireland.

There comes a time where you have to see the end result. Perhaps your whole life doesn’t rest upon that result, but, it’s the thing that gets to over the hump. As I sit here on my couch, taking a break from my painful work, I know that when my plane takes off, I will be so much lighter in the air than I am today. The gravitational pull of my step work lessening, even if just for a few moments.

Back to the hammer. It’s hard work. But, the end’s in sight. And, I just know that it will be glorious!

Day 234: Laughs

I met an old friend for coffee today and laughed my ass off.

It was great catching up with her, not only because I adore her, but, because she is one of the funniest people I know.

I remember while I was still drinking, it took so much to make me laugh. You’d have to work on me pretty hard to even get a smile. I was so hell bent on letting everyone know that I was tough. And, while I may have been a miserable mess in need of a laugh desperately, I wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction.

These days, I’m laughing all the time. Because sobriety is starting to look good on me. I can see the humor in almost everything, and more than that, I can appreciate it. Everything has taken on a lighter, more playful mood. It’s all good, as they say. The experience of being in the dark has made the light so much brighter. I just had to let it in, open that door of willingness.

I behave differently. Like I’m much younger again. Lars and I act like children. It’s behavior that I would have judged and looked down on a few months ago. I couldn’t see the point in being ridiculous. Now, I see that the point is ridiculous. Having fun, being busy, being engaged in great activities, all these things are meant to be enjoyed. When I first got sober, I participated in activities for the sole reason of keeping sober. If  I was at a meeting, out to dinner with sober friends, in a yoga workshop, on a coffee date…I wasn’t drinking. But, those activities are the things I want to be sober for today.

As I sipped my latte and chatted with my friend I felt so much more connected. I felt things for her that I had real access to, that I could share with her. And, I was more available to her than I’d been in a long time.

Coming home, my belly still sore from all the laughs, I passed my old pub in the car. I saw a few of the old regulars ponied up to the bar. And, for a split second it made me want to go in and show them how different I am now. But, I know that for every piece of me that wants to go in and have things be different, deep down, I know it won’t be. I know that, to them, my sobriety is probably laugh-worthy.

And, to that, all I can say is: Laugh it up chuckles.

Day 233: Revelations

When I think about God and revelations, I often think about what God will reveal to me.

Something that I hadn’t considered, at all really, was what would be revealed in me.

Today, I sat down and really considered some big concepts. Big changes that have occurred in me and my state of being. I hadn’t intended it to be a spiritual investigation. Though, I suppose we can never know when spiritual revelation will come to us, that’s sort of the nature of spiritual things, at least in my experience. Those things, those pieces that we hadn’t seen before, that we hadn’t considered, truly jump out at us suddenly often times. It’s that sudden, unexpected truth that always seems to hit me hard and fast.

Spiritual awakening, a concept I became open to when I became a member of AA, was ever present in my early recovery, but, as time goes on things seem to come to me more slowly and more subtly. Sometimes it feels like God baited me with nuggets of spiritual goodness in the beginning, and once I was hooked, things came to a standstill. I wondered if He’d left me. But today, I see it very differently.

My thoughts started today with my trip to Ireland, of course. As I thought about it, I searched myself for a reason that made this trip feel so right, deep down in my gut. From the onset of my desire to get to Ireland, I’ve battled with the notion that this was totally impulsive and self-seeking venture. Something that AA warns us against. And, being the “good” AA that I am, I am quite serious about being honest with myself about my own motives for doing things. I have the past as a blueprint. I’ve had lots of impulsive, self-seeking ideas that have seemed great, and, I’ve acted on them. And, I know how the story goes, not everything you want or think you need is actually the best thing for you. I still struggle to know what the best decision looks like. But, I’ve also come to learn that avoiding things that seem right because you’re living in fear it a sure fire way to miss out on life and all it has to offer.

I asked myself, why do I want to take this trip alone? Why now? My past is littered with codependency. My family relationships, my friendships, my romantic relationships. Up until just about seven months ago I couldn’t do anything on my own. I needed permission from the people I value in my life. I needed people to be with me. I didn’t want to be alone in my apartment, let alone in another country. So, why this sure feeling that I’m meant to go to this place in another world, on my own? Why?

As I sat with these questions. I felt a shift on the inside. I felt my questions about my motives and my desire to be on my own melt away. And, it dawned on me, or was revealed to me I suppose, that the reason I want to take this trip on my own is: For the first time in my whole life, I don’t feel alone.

Perhaps it sounds like a small thing to you, but to me, this is probably the biggest inner event that’s occurred in my recovery. Not only being open to God, but, actually feeling his presence within me. So much of my addiction, so many of my emotional problems apart from my substance abuse, stem from a feeling of alone-ness. So much of my seeking has been my core self in search of the feeling that I will be taken care of, loved, and truly held.

While I searched myself today, thinking I was only finding shallow justifications for this trip, the biggest piece, of practically everything, was revealed to me. I may be alone on this trip in my physical body, but, for the first time in my life I will be on my own with the spirit. Alone with the thing that makes it OK to be alone. Alone with that inner comfort that I didn’t think I would ever find. And, it feels so epically beautiful. It’s so much bigger, warmer, and safer than I’d ever imagined.

I wanted to take this trip to have a spiritual experience, but, I realized that the desire to take the trip, in itself, is the spiritual experience.

I know, when I get back home, that the spirit will still be with me, because it’s not something I have to go find.

It’s right here, within me.

Like whoa.

Day 232: Walk A Mile In Someone Else’s Shoes

So much of my recovery has been me learning to fly on my own.

I’ve spent a goodly portion of my life, hanging on, tagging along, and relying on others. And, it gives me a lot of pleasure to know that I’m doing so well now, on my own. I still depend on people in my life for quite a few things, but, in those situations I know that I am making an honest effort to “make good” on my own, and slowly but surely I’m getting there.

One thing that’s been tough to negotiate in the program is when you’re falling back into old, bad habits, and, when you’re just being yourself. There are things about us, at our core, that despite our best efforts may never be perfect. And, that’s OK. I know everything is OK, in theory, as long as I’m sober and trying. But, sometimes in my attempts to be as perfect in the program as possible, I overcompensate.

My recent independence is one way in which I’ve learned to be free and happy. I don’t need to be codependent with my parents or boyfriend to be happy. I’ve learned I can have close relationships with people, relationships I can rely on, but, don’t desperately need to survive. It’s important to want to be around people, not to need it. It’s like that infamous saying, ‘If you love someone, let them go, and if they love you, they will return to you.’ It’s trust. Trust that the love I get from my folks and from my partner will still be there for me when I return, if I should go off on my own. And, vice versa.

It’s been really important for me to establish and root that independence deep in the Earth below me. And, I feel like I’ve been hugely successful. So successful, in fact, that I sometimes miss the point. Which is, I need to know how to be alone and be happy being alone, but, that doesn’t mean that I should force myself to be alone just to prove a point.

Lars was completely booked this weekend working with his band. And, since he couldn’t really fit me in for any amount of real, quality time, I told him it wasn’t necessary to spend any time together at all. I really wanted to emphasize that I could be alone, that my time is valuable, that I’m valuable. I wanted to make all these “points” by not spending the two hours that he’d have available to me at the end of his day. So, when he texted me in the middle of the afternoon today, saying that he was sick as a dog, I immediately sat in judgement. He was using illness as an excuse to get me to come over and spend the time with him, the same time that I was hoping to use against him, to make my stand, my declaration of independence.

I sat and thought on it. I thought on it hard. And, after some contemplation, it dawned on me what a complete asshole I was being. There was an appropriate time to take a stand for independence: 1776. Tonight however, did not fit the bill.

I have a hazy memory of my mother explaining the concept of “walking a mile in someone else’s shoes” when I was a kid. How if you understood what that person was going though, maybe you’d think of things in a different way.

Tonight, after attempting to stay strong and stay home alone, without Lars, I decided I needed to go be with him. I took a walk in his shoes. And, I know that when I’m sick with a cold and I feel like death himself, I absolutely hate being alone. I like being babied and cared for, and, call it codependency Batman, but, I wasn’t going to let him suffer alone.

Sometimes doing unto others as you’d have done unto you, even if it means giving up a little independence, is the right thing to do.

So, I cradled Lars’ sniffling head in my arms as he proceeded to pass out and snore while we watched movies. And, it felt so, so good. I realized that you don’t have to be alone to make a stand, in fact, sometimes you need reinforcements. Lars was a man down tonight. And, where I come from, when a man’s down, you get in the trenches and you drag him out…even if he does snore like a buzz saw.

Day 231: Mr. Saturday Night

Gone are the late night soirees and partying until dawn.

As I tuck myself in here, at 8:00PM, to fall asleep to a movie and spend the evening next to my little cat, I still sometimes wonder if I’m missing out. Not because I’m sober, but, because sometimes it’s just easier to skip out on things because I’m afraid that alcohol is the only thing that made it any good in the first place.

I used to love dining out. The atmosphere, the food, the service, and yes, the wine or cocktail, or both.

But, tonight, with Lars occupied for the whole weekend, and me yoga-ed out and exhausted, all I want to do is get some good sleep and wake up early for tomorrow’s Step/Tradition meeting at my home group. As I lay here, I think about taking myself out to a nice dinner somewhere. And, for a moment, the idea seems pretty appealing. I used to love to take myself to fancy dinners, solo, and proceed to get absolutely blotto. The idea loses its appeal suddenly.

Drinking made so many of the things that I used to do alone bearable. Now, without that crutch, without that friend, without the trusty-dusty wing man, there isn’t a heck of a lot that appeals to me in the night time hours. And, truthfully, the fact that I can actually be alone in my apartment doing pedestrian things, like reading, watching movies, or heck, just sleeping, is a feat. When I first got sober I thought I’d crawl out of my skin if I had to even think about being at home alone.

I’ll admit, I feel kind of like a loser tonight. But, I’m glad that I don’t have to depend on a substance to save me from my own boredom and loneliness. Tonight, I can decide to just turn in early, and that seems a fine substitute indeed.

I also think ahead two weeks, to when I’ll be in Ireland. I think about how much more I’ll be able to accomplish in my time there because I won’t lose countless hours to drinking or recovering from drinking. I’ll be early to bed and early to rise, able to capture so much more than I did when I set food on Irish soil eight years ago. I’m free of so much of my crap now. And, I’ll be on my own with no one to stop me from finding whatever it is I set out to seek.

So, maybe tonight, it’s bed at 8:00PM. But, who knows what tomorrow will bring? When I wake up at 6:00AM, this feeling I have in the pit of my stomach right now will surely be gone, and a new sun will be on the rise.