My loose fitting garment.

Weekly meeting with Sponsor:

Agreement #1
Sponsor: You’re on a slippery slope. I’m worried about you.
Me: Me too.
Agreement #2
Me: My give-a-damn’s busted.
Sponsor: I see that. You’re not following direction.
Agreement #3
Me: I just don’t want to. I feel like a child.
Sponsor: You’re acting like a child.
Agreement #4
Sponsor: Not working isn’t helping. You’re going to have to suck it up and accept that you need to “be new” in a different area if you expect to make a living.
Me: I know and it scares the crap outta me.

It was only an hour long meeting, but Sponsor asked some really tough questions. For which I had no answers. At least none that I was willing to bring to my conscious thought. I felt like I was at day 1 all over again. We talked about my idle time. I don’t do well without structure. (Shocking!) We talked about my level of involvement in life, in general. My absolute apathy. She thinks while the unemployment is certainly an issue, it may be time to consider anti-depressants again. Sigh. I really don’t want to even think about going down that road—again. So, based on our Four Agreements, we came up with an outline for change. To reevaluate and adjust as necessary.

End result:
More meetings. (Specifically the Women’s meeting I did NOT go to on Monday.)
Call her every day.
We’re starting the book over next week.
Pursue, in earnest, 2 different areas of expertise in my career field and report back to her.
Hit my knees more often than I have…specifically…DOUBLE UP at least.

So far, I’m making good. I went to a new meeting at the church up the road from where I live. Literally took me 2 minutes to get there. It was a small meeting, older crowd. My insides must have been showing on the outside, because a woman came up, introduced herself, and asked if I was new. Well, hell…I feel like it.

It was nice to sit in a meeting feeling new and knowing no one. I was able to focus on the reason I was there, and really listen to the speaker. (Lo and behold, he was from Chicago. Can it get any stranger than that? I mean, I instantly felt “at home”.) He talked about wearing life like a loose fitting garment and how that relates to his 12th Step work. I found myself sharing his view and reevaluating a few interactions I’ve had with newcomers or returnees that were less than, um, encouraging (?). Both for them and for me and my primary purpose. I did a Google search on "wearing life like a loose fitting garment". I came up with quite an array of things. But I was also led to Irish Friend of Bill's post and really kinda dig it.

I’d like to say that after the events of the day that I have a new attitude and that things are going to start changing. I am going to start changing. Well, yeah…I’ve been here before. Truth is, I’ve got to get back to the basics.

I can’t. Someone else can. I guess I’ll let Him. Simple…1, 2, 3.

And now it’s time to hit my knees. Again.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

The first step.

I haven’t been feeling well the past few days. My stomach is kind of feeble and my head feels like it is swimming. The physical aches are there, too, though not as bothersome. The combination of the three makes me feel disoriented. I am performing those things that are really only the bare minimum as I have no energy. I wonder if I’m coming down with something, or if clinical depression is settling in for an extended visit.

I’ve neglected my laundry and cleaning my room and bathrooms. My desk is piled with clutter. It’s not terribly disconcerting. I feel as though it reflects my current state of affairs.

I am not working and that is definitely a source of angst. Yet I can’t seem to get serious about my search. I think there’s a certain sense of shame I’m feeling over having been laid off. It’s not rational. For the first time since my spiral into the abyss of alcoholism, I did nothing to bring this unfortunate result. I was a worker among workers. I showed up on time, even early, every day. I didn’t goof off while I was at work. I stayed late. I went above and beyond my job description when my director was on an extended medical leave, performing her duties as well as mine. And above all else, I didn’t drink.

So why am I in such fear? It wasn’t the ideal job. There were many downfalls. If I had it to do over again, knowing what I know now about the company, the people, and the philosophy, I probably wouldn’t take the job. The biggest source of distress was acting as interim director. It put me in such a position to remember and feel every horrendous feeling I had at my last position. Without the ability to blot it all out without the aid of alcohol. I was angry I was again in a position that brought such unpleasantness. I didn’t like myself much back then, and those feelings came creeping back to the surface. I heaved a sigh of relief when the director returned, though I doubted her ability to continue in her position. The few months I worked with her, I felt like I was looking at myself in a mirror from 2 ½ years ago. I think that was the scariest thing about it all. (I’m saving her a seat.) I was starting to become that person again in my thoughts. A week after her return, I was downsized. I’ve come to believe that God did for me what I could (or would) not do for myself.

Sigh. It’s uncomfortable to try to explain my job-hopping in an interview. I don’t want to have to go through that again, then jump at the first offer I receive, only to have it end up like this. I am good at what I do. Very good. And I love it. Why am I feeling so paralyzed now?

Illness or depression? Sloth or fear? Victim of the economy or shame?

It doesn’t matter I guess. I just need to start putting one foot in front of the other. Whether I feel like it or not. And leave the results up to God.

I don’t need to see the whole staircase. I just need to take the first step in faith. (Credit: Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Broken-hearted.

Most of the time after I talk to my children, I am happy and encouraged. Not so tonight. My conversation with my baby girl seemed to punctuate every failure that I’ve tried desperately to reconcile in my heart.

Her life hasn’t been easy over the past 5 years and continues to this day. A lot of that has come from me. The financial stress, the loss of the family unit, the devastation having an alcoholic mother can cause. The “if only” and “what if” self-castigation has begun and is giving way to self-loathing.

I’m angry. Angry at myself. Angry at my wasbeen. And angry at this disease.

I want to shove it down and ignore it.

I want to make it right.

I can’t. And I can’t.

I feel like crap right now. My thoughts are scattered. I can’t think. The only thought I can put my finger on is that as bad as I feel right now, it isn’t enough.

I can’t change what happened. I can’t take away the pain. And I’m tired of feeling like an outsider in my children’s lives.

I miss them terribly. And I just don’t see how this will ever change. Not that I deserve anything better.

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.