The Keys To The Kingdom

I am now a proud tenant in Hollywood. Well, I signed the lease today and received the keys and garage remote. I spent 1 ½ hours taking pictures, measuring spaces and phoning friends from my new apartment. I even used the restroom and sat on the floor of the balcony.

This is a huge step, especially without a job. But again, circumstances are such that this was unavoidable. I must have faith that just as this opportunity materialized as I needed it, so too will a job, if I continue to be open-minded and willing to do what is in front of me in my quest.

As the feelings of elation ebbed just I little bit, I took my leave and headed to FH for dinner and a meeting. On the drive over, I thought of the chosen menu for today: Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings. It was the House’s Director’s 39th Sober Birthday on the 10th, and it is always Thanksgiving Dinner for dinner the day she takes her cake. For me, it was fitting also. I have much for which to be grateful; today and every day.

I did, however eat too much. So much so, that I passed on the cake. Not like me at all. I don’t know whether it was over-consumption, or the anxiety of committing to a lease of my very own, or the lingering side effects (tachycardia) of the new drug, but I got to feeling pretty puny as the meeting started. I left rather abruptly once the meeting ended without the customary post-meeting chit-chat. I just needed to get home.

Tomorrow I will rest. I have no pressing issues, no errands to run. My trusty laptop will allow me to stay in bed and still perform my daily job search. Something I have not been able to do since I left for Chicago 2 weeks ago. Oh, yes, the car will need to be moved to avoid a ticket, but this doesn’t bother me as it used to. I now see a light at the end of THAT tunnel. :-)

I think I’ll need to say a little prayer (or 2 or 3...) that I overcome a particular set of character defects daily during the next couple of weeks before I move so that my car doesn’t get the boot. Sometimes knowing there’s relief ahead can bring out the worst in them, and me. Before Alcoholics Anonymous my car would have gotten the boot many, many times over. And I'd be broke from getting my car out of hock. (That is, of course, if I even noticed it was gone and/or could get sober enough to go through the gyrations of getting it back.)

I'm so grateful today to be able to anticipate the consequences of the many facets of my personality quirks. It doesn't mean I'm perfect, but I am learning.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Back to the basics

I woke up this morning with dread. My first thought was “Why did I agree to facilitate that %@&! Big Book study at Fouse today?”. In the place I’m in lately, I just couldn’t come up with any valid reason (to me, at least) to do it. Blah, blah, blah. So I turned to my Daily Reflections and there was the answer.

As the 7 ladies retrieved their books from the shelves, I thought about how to proceed. After everyone was settled, I introduced myself and qualified briefly, then asked everyone to introduce themselves. I related to them how this was their group and often as I sat in the very chairs they were now in, I felt as if I didn’t count for much. We repeated the same things over and over, several times in a week, and my ideas for what to read next were seldom taken into account. I wanted this to be relevant to where they were today and how they were feeling. Most of them were pretty new and still feeling numb and didn’t have any suggestions. So I told them I had a Plan B in case this happened. They decided they would like to hear it. So I told them about my thoughts on wakening and read them the passage I had read earlier. I told them I’ve been struggling and not really following direction or living in the answers I found in the Big Book, so I needed to read Chapter 2, There Is A Solution. They loved that idea.

The next hour flew by. There was a lot of good discussion and relating to the Book and each other going on. I felt so much connection to the program and these women by the end and they invited me back. I’m on call, so to speak, to fill in for the regulars when they can’t honor their commitment for whatever reason, so I told them that I would love to help anytime I was given the opportunity. And I meant it.

I did follow through on attending the Women’s meeting tonight as Sponsor directed. She’ll be thrilled tomorrow at that, but even more so that I immediately introduced myself upon entering and picked up a few phone numbers. One of the women who directed me to sit next to her has a pretty extensive history in one of the fields I’m investigating in my career shift. She gave me a few ideas and offered to help me write a cover letter for my resume. I also ran into 3 women I know from other meetings and got their numbers as well. I outlined some of the difficulties I’ve been experiencing lately and found that again, I am not terminally unique.

So, though my basic physical situation hasn’t changed, I feel a change inside. A flicker of hope. And it’s as a direct result of putting my faith in Someone/Something other than me and just plain following direction. Whether I think I need to or not. I’m not the most objective person when it comes to knowing what I need. Huh.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Drama

There’s always something. Some drama, our own or others, that lures us. What I find, more often than not, is that most of my dramas are not my own. The fact that I can recognize this today is nothing short of a miracle. The women’s meeting I attend is always a place that provides ample opportunity to test my theory. Tonight was especially “busy”.

Once upon a time, as a resident of this recovery home, I was embroiled in every minute drama. Hell yes, everything effected me. This was my home! Little by little, my sponsor helped me to weed through what was truly a concern for me, and what was manufactured misery. She taught me how to separate facts from the diversions I created to occupy my mind and avoid my issues. With that came the leveling of my ego. And growth. As time passes, I find myself less and less emotionally attached to the politics of recovery home life. The faces are different. The routines have somewhat changed. But what remains is that I am NOT the center of the universe.

Tonight, as I watched and listened, I felt myself drawn in to the drama. It was a carry-over from an incident last week that truly did not involve me. I was only asked to be a content expert involving a laboratory report. When I was asked to help, I was only too happy to be of service. But there was this feeling in the pit of my stomach. That “Witch Hunt” feeling. “Be of service, nothing more” was something I had to keep repeating to myself. As M would say, “Be Switzerland”. I repeated that to myself more than once this evening and it allowed me to keep my side of the street clean.

Another opportunity presented itself tonight to practice yet another basic principle I can easily push to the side. Again, we all love the drama and need to be in the know. I am certainly no different. This is fertile ground for gossip and character assassination. Too many suppositions, too many elements to opine. A question I learned to ask myself early in my sobriety was “is this my story to tell?” I don’t remember where I heard it. I’d like to take credit myself, but I was so without original thought when I got here, that I’m sure someone, somewhere, put that idea in my head. It just happen to stick.

Original thought. Hmmm. I feel as if I haven’t had one today. And that can be a good thing considering where it can get me, even on a good day. Thank God for the platitudes, original or not. They made my 10th step easier this evening.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.