Getting back into the swing of things.

(The photo is for my sister. Let's see if she notices.)


The day was quiet. I did what was in front of me.

I got out of the house early and headed to Target to pick up a few things I’ve been doing without lately. A few essentials, and a few things, inexpensive, but not so essential. I didn’t go crazy…I can’t afford it.

Later this morning, I forced myself to complete some paperwork that is due in Sacramento by the 10th. I’ll have to pay extra in postage to make sure that happens. Unfortunately that’s the consequence of THAT particular character defect, but at least I care enough to make those arrangements. It wasn’t long ago that I would just drop it in the mailbox on the corner and then make up excuses, probably blaming the USPS for my procrastination.

I also responded, by phone, to an email from a potential employer with whom I placed an application for employment last week before I flew home. Initially, I was going to reply by email, but I decided the direct approach was more professional. As it turns out, I was able to secure a telephone interview for tomorrow morning. It’s quite a change from my area of expertise, but I am willing to learn a new area if that is what my HP has in store for me. And if this process of responding to an email and following through with the interview is just a learning experience, in and of itself, then that is what it will be. Everything is as it should be as long as I just do what’s in front of me to the best of my ability.

It felt wonderful to be back at my Wednesday night meeting. The love and support that was offered felt so comforting. Many of the group knew of my recent difficulties, a few did not. I did share from the podium about my illness and FW’s passing and how numb I feel right now. It felt incredibly healing to give the wonderful men in that room who have been with me since day one through EVERYTHING, an opportunity to be my anchors. As usual, they stepped up to the plate and I felt safe crying in their arms. We fellowshipped following the meeting, though I wasn’t hungry or in the mood. Being able to listen and respond to others’ interests came a little easier today than in the past couple of weeks, yet my heart was still not fully present. At least I made the effort by accepting the invitation and staying a respectable length of time. And as a bonus, I have leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

I just realized that I am making progress with some of my more glaring character defects just through my behaviors today.

I guess it does work, as long as I’m willing to do the work.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

I...Can't...Drive...55

Most of the day my brain felt like it was going 250 MPH. My blood pressure has been vacillating wildly throughout the day leaving me lightheaded and nauseous. I got several periods of respite through talking with Sponsor, prayer, meditation, writing, and staying through 2 support groups tonight instead of my customary early group only. I cried. I ranted. I talked. And I opened my heart and ears to suggestion.

The two situations that have my emotions living in Roller Coaster Central (thank you Joe) are so totally out of my control. One has me worried for a loved one; the other has me reacting to another alcoholic’s (one of my roommates) “acting out”. I was actually feeling better during support group, but found myself lightheaded and with a raging headache by the time I reached my car in the garage to come home.

I hate that I respond with physical symptoms to stress and resentment. It is proof positive to me that I have something to work through. There’s no room for denial when I’m suffering even the superficial effects of stroke level blood pressures. No matter how temporary.

This is a pretty undeniable illustration, in my life, of how unmanageability and resentments can kill me if I don’t follow a few simple steps.

So, when I got home, I worked through steps 1, 2, and 3 on my worry for my loved one, and worked a 4th step on the resentment with my roommate. And then I got to work with another alcoholic on plans for the final fundraiser for AALA.

Heavy sigh.

I feel better.

Who’s shocked?

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Stuck

Wow! It’s been a while since I’ve felt this stuck. I have absolutely no desire to do anything.

This is the second Wednesday in a row that I have missed my favorite meeting. Missed? MISSED?? Uh, no. I made a decision to NOT GO. I have the every other month commitment of secretary. This is my month “off” and in true alcoholic fashion, if I don’t have to be there, the slightest excuse can get me to stay home. Never mind that this is the first meeting where I felt safe. It was the first place where I shared openly and honestly without fear of judgment. Oddly enough, it is not the women’s meeting at the recovery home I lived and worked in for 10 and 4 months, respectively. This is a gay men’s meeting.

These wonderful men have loved me, unconditionally, since the day we met. You know, I was thinking yesterday when the treasurer of this meeting called me pretty…he meant it. I laughed at first, but then I realized that he doesn’t see the outside me. He sees the inside me. It took me a long time to realize that what I love about this meeting is that I don’t have to dress pretty, put on make-up, try to lose a tremendous amount of extra weight, or become someone I’m not to be loved and valued. I get to just be me. It's like I have this gay entourage who have adopted me for the sole purpose of teaching me that I am worthy of nothing but the best. It is a wonderful thing to not worry about committing a faux pas of one variety or other and to be able to concentrate on my sobriety. In every other area of my life, though, I feel as if I am lacking—somehow less than.

Though I am accepted fully, I am starting to feel as if I do not belong here. And I know the longer I stay away, the more difficult time I will have convincing myself to go back. And we know what follows. So, what is the real problem here?

I’m being selfish, self-centered, and self-pitying. I’m having a tough time and I just want to feel miserable. It’s easier than doing the work. I know what I need to do. I am just not willing. I suppose when the pain of holding on to this becomes greater than the pain of letting go, I’ll do the work. Until then…

I don’t know.

Thank you for paying me a 12 step call.