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.

Que Sera Sera

Events seem to be moving at warp speed and totally out of logical order in my life lately. But that is MY perspective. I’ve come to understand over the past several weeks that everything is as it should be in God’s world. If I question or complain it only serves to place me out of step with God’s will. Each time I round a corner or navigate the opportunities for growth God places in front of me (some may call them “tests”), another circumstance is presented. I feel as if I haven’t time to recover or take a deep breath, yet I am grateful. The forward progress and amazingly calm, unflustered manner in which I am “handling” these issues, is a welcome, yet alien feeling.

In the next couple of weeks, I will be moving into a new apartment. When the deal fell through with my former almost roommate in March, I never dreamed that this would happen so soon, or as quickly as it fell together. Circumstances have made this a necessity. (I apologize for the vagueness, but again, much of this is not my story to tell at this time. When it is common knowledge, I will speak freely. It must be frustrating to read my thoughts without being privy to all the details.) I disclosed this decision and the reason to my roommates last night. I was slightly apprehensive because of the last “moving debacle” but said a prayer God would provide the right words and the acceptance of whatever developed from there. They were loving and supportive and concerned. Appropriately. It is a bittersweet event for all involved and I feel good about the outcome.

None of this would be happening if I were not sober.

*I would not have a friend with the ability to get me into a VERY nice apartment in Hollywood for not much more than I am paying for one room in the Mid-Wilshire area.
*I would not have the clarity to take care of what is in front of me, today, and not try to control the results.
*I would not have faith that the work I am doing today will take care of the future.
*I would not be a woman who could be trusted to do what she says she’s going to do.
*I would not be grateful to be in this position.
*I would not have an entire network of friends and resources from which to draw strength in the weeks and months to come.
*I would not know a loving God who wants me to be happy, joyous, and free.
*I would not be living my heart’s desire in the next couple of weeks, however difficult it may appear to be from today’s vantage point.

I am grateful beyond belief today that all of those “would not’s” do not exist. Life may not be the way I envisioned at one time in my life, but I’m at peace with how it is today.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Is he alone who has Faith on one hand...?

Yesterday I felt so…alive. And loved. This is not how I expected to feel on another Mother’s Day without my own mother and without my children.

I set my alarm so that I would not sleep past the point of no return. I really wanted to start the day at the beach meeting, as I attempt to do for all holidays and “anniversary days”. The presence of HP is so palpable there. Between my illness and FW’s passing, it has been some weeks since I could go. I’m grateful I could do so yesterday.

I heard from all 3 of my chickadees before I even stepped foot on the sand. What a blessing! This wouldn’t have happened had I not turned my will and my life over to my HP 881 days ago. Thank you, God.

Mickey Bush was the speaker and delightful as always. I have heard him on many occasions on CD’s and a couple of times in person, but this was a small meeting, comparatively speaking, that facilitated a more intimate approach than he is accustomed. He gave me quite a few new tidbits. The topic he chose for the sharing portion was “powerlessness”. Boy, have the events of the last several weeks illustrated that concept clearly for me!

I am actually grateful for my powerlessness. The admission and acceptance of that has brought me to rely on a Power greater than myself in all situations. Had I not been able to embrace that idea, I’m sure I would be spinning out of control right now with all that is happening around me. It seems as if there is a relentless torrent of challenges beating down upon me and the only way to survive them is to admit my powerlessness and turn it all over to the One who has all power.

I do not believe that God “tests” me. I believe He places opportunities for growth in my path. A HUGE opportunity lies before me as I will be placed in a position I have longed for over the past several years, though not under these circumstances. (More than that I cannot divulge just yet. This is not fully MY story to tell.) What I know is that I cannot choose under what circumstances my dreams are fulfilled. God has a plan and I must have faith. And that, I do.

After the meeting, and my share about powerlessness and how it relates to me, I received much support from my fellows and was invited to breakfast, which I accepted. After all, it was Mother’s Day and it has been so long since I have been treated to breakfast on this day. The gentleman, who provided this treat, is also in a unique position to help me in the next leg of my journey of growth. And he has offered to do so. Surprisingly, I have accepted, which is difficult for me. It is difficult for all of us but I have learned that there is no shame in asking for help. Alcoholics Anonymous has taught me that. It has also taught me that by accepting help, I am helping someone else fulfill their own spiritual needs.

So, as I start my day today I am filled with hope for the future. Today everything is as God intends it to be. And as Mickey pointed out: I’m not living life on life’s terms; I am living life on God’s terms. There is tremendous comfort in believing that.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Why does it feel like I'm keeping a secret?

The need to be surrounded by the fellowship was very acute today, so I decided to attend dinner at FH before the Women’s meeting. It was kind of a mixed bag.

Sponsor spent most of the “down-time” between dinner and the meeting with her new sponsee who is a resident of FH. I didn’t feel neglected at all. I remember what a welcome relief it was when she would come to dinner before the meeting and I could escape the drama (much of it manufactured by my head) of recovery home living for just an hour by having one simple, private conversation. I was happy that my new sister in sobriety was able to benefit in that way. I was somewhat disappointed, though. There’s a lot going on in my head and heart that could benefit from spilling over, and somehow, a phone conversation about the very same issues just isn’t the same. We will not be able to meet on Saturday either as Sponsor is going out of town for the weekend. I will keep talking about my experiences over the last couple of weeks with friends, but there is so much history and family dynamics that Sponsor is privy to that cutting to the chase is easy with her. I’m not sure how much relief I will get with others who do not have the intimate knowledge of my past that she does. But, I suppose this type of thinking falls into the category of contempt prior to investigation. So maybe I better let go of it.

To that end, I’m a little perplexed by how guarded I am in some instances and how open I am in others. I noticed a couple of times tonight when women I have known through FH, some for most of my sobriety, greeted me with a kiss, hug, and inquiry into my well being, my response was that I was “good” while moments before, I was openly sharing my grief with someone else. Sponsor reassured me that it was perfectly fine to follow my intuition about with whom I felt safe sharing. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. I mean, my health issues and FW’s passing are no secrets. Why would I treat them as such or not seek an opportunity to broaden my circle of support? Was I passing judgment on the type of support they would provide, or was I just tired of repeating myself? Was I being considerate of their current situation and not wishing to take away from their joy or drama by ignoring my own?

In the end, I think that it’s just something that maybe happens all on its own without rhyme or reason. I am still dealing with my feelings. There’s plenty of time to let the world know what’s going on. Right now I guess I just don’t feel a need to be my own personal town-crier 100% of the time. Word will get around, as it always does. I don’t need to feel responsible for how someone hears of my difficulties, how they feel about the manner in which they found out, or what they do as a result. What I am responsible for is extending the hand of Alcoholics Anonymous to anyone who reaches for it.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

I don't like being a patient.

Doctor said to give it another week or so. These side effects are twofold. The adjustment of my physiological symptoms back to “normal” is not yet complete, and my body has been compensating for a far longer period of time than it has been allowed to “rest”. I’m really kind of pleased he has a working knowledge of the alcoholic mind and knows how to settle me down. He says things like “trust the process” and “you didn’t get this way overnight so it’s going to take a little time” and “remember how you felt when you were newly sober, this is like that”. Then there are times it irks me that he knows so much about the alcoholic mind. My mind. I can’t bullshit him.

Again, this all comes back to acceptance, faith, and surrender, I think. Steps 1, 2, and 3. I just have to apply it differently. I spoke with Sponsor earlier about this very issue.

As a medical professional, I have just enough information to be dangerous to myself. (Self-will) I have a hard time accepting that I just can’t control what’s going on with my aging body. Oh, there are certain things I could be doing differently to improve the process and not exacerbate those things to which I am genetically predisposed. I just don’t. (More self-will) Little to no physical activity, an exclusively caffeine liquid intake, poor diet, and smoking can only lead me down one road. By placing myself in this position through much of my own action, or inaction, I am ignoring the consequences. And persisting in this way of life in spite of them. And adding to the unmanageability. (I can’t.)

Doctor is specially trained to deal with these issues; I am not. He has years of experience with countless drugs and patients; I have read a few things about this particular drug. I may know how my body feels right now; he knows how it will feel later. He knows what my options are now and later; I have tunnel vision focusing on my limitations. He is objective; I am self serving. (Someone else can.)

So based on all that I don’t know, I’m going to have to put my faith in Doctor. I’ll have to ask questions, listen to the answers, and follow his direction. In addition, I’ll have to put my ego aside and be honest with him about my progress. (I think I’ll let him.)

What comes next is hopefully a better enjoyment of life if I am honest, open-minded and willing. I know through practicing the principles of Alcoholics Anonymous as it relates to the disease of alcoholism that I can recover from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. Why not give this a shot too?

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.

Here comes the sun.

It’s amazing what a difference a day makes.

The shift in thinking. The feeling of being at ease. The acceptance of the right here and the right now.

My morning routine was somewhat disturbed by my alarm clock, but the benefit of watching the breathtaking morning sunrise was a gift. For the longest time after I was laid-off, I still awoke at 5 AM every day. It’s been only the past few weeks where I have “slept in” until 6:30 or 7:30. I made the decision to set my alarm as a commitment to attend the beach meeting. It gave me the time to pray and meditate, wash my face and brush my teeth (no need for a shower with the sand and salty air), fix my bed, brew coffee for my thermos, pack my beach bag, read some really great feedback and encouraging words from the blogging community, and glance at my email. Had I not set my alarm, I’m sure I would have come up with a thousand excuses not to go. It felt as if I had a purpose today. I liked that feeling.

I arrived 45 minutes early, set up my blanket, and got to the business of fellowship. The die-hards were there and immediately pulled me into conversation. They seem to have a 6th sense about things and show nothing but love and support when they’ve zeroed in on someone who appears to be struggling. I also got to talk with some people who don’t come there on a regular basis. These are people I’ve known my entire sobriety, but haven’t run into much in the past year. Our circumstances took us in different directions. In the 45 minutes prior to the meeting’s start, there was an instant, and natural feeling that I could exhale the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I love this meeting. I love the surprises it holds. The meeting tripled in size due to the nicer weather, and it will only gain strength as the season progresses. I think I’ll keep setting my alarm on Sunday mornings. It’s a great way to start the week.

There was a school of about 8 dolphins playing in the surf. I noticed them during the 2 minute silent meditation. They remained just offshore for the entire meeting…an hour and a half. It’s odd they would stay so long. They usually meander south and around the point by the meeting’s midpoint. Today they went back and forth, directly in front of where the white flag was erected. The whole dolphin thing always excites me. Today more than usual.

The speaker was a young man of 28, who just celebrated his 9th Birthday. An amazing sober alcoholic whose focus is “right now”. I found my eyes turning to the dolphins throughout his share and the overwhelming fact that, for whatever reason, they were right here, right now. I doubt they were thinking about yesterday or planning tomorrow and beyond. This was their reality. And they were just fine.

I am here. Right here. Right now. Anything else is over and done with, or not yet happened. This is my reality. I'm just fine, too.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

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.

To save a life.

Friendly House
William Shatner dedicates 2nd home to Friendly House

Say Goodnight, Gracie

With the state of unrest that I have been experiencing over the last couple of weeks, tonight’s meeting could have been a disaster, because, after all, it’s always about me. Isn’t it?

Before the meeting, one of my very closest friends did something that hurt my feelings. He meant it as a joke, but I did not find it funny. I had previously discussed with him my need to set a little distance in some of my relationships where I was feeling smothered. He has been very understanding, giving me what I asked for…letting me take the lead. Because I have not been calling him every day, and because of my near miss last week, he leaned in to me and made a show of smelling me, particularly near my mouth. When we talked a little while later, I communicated how hurtful that was and asked him to, in the future, just ask if I had been drinking. He said he knew I hadn’t because I wouldn’t have shown up at the meeting if I had. Uh…I’m an alcoholic. No telling what I would do if I were drinking. I don’t know if he was joking or if there was some truth to his actions, and it’s not my place to argue with his motive or intention. I can only take his words at face value and let him know my feelings. I think we put it behind us. Only time will tell. I know he was coming from a place of love, but I need to do a little work surrounding my initial reaction. Definitely on the agenda to discuss with Sponsor tomorrow.

From there, things kind of piled up. I forgot to ask people to read the two customary readings prior to the start of the meeting, the timer did not show, the clean-up person did not show, and the ticket person did not show. Luckily people stepped up to the plate. As always.

The speaker was wonderful. He talked about becoming an orphan at the age of 41 with only 3 months clean. Since my father passed away when I was 10 months sober, I immediately felt relief. I always thought I was the only one who felt like an adult orphan. It just goes to show that there really isn’t anything unique about me.

During the speed sharing, my friend, D, who relapsed 2 weeks ago after 22 months, shared that he was going to “do this with as much grace and dignity” as he could. Wow, did that strike a nerve. Grace? Dignity? There has been nothing graceful or dignified about what’s going on with me lately. And then I remembered. In the first few weeks in the recovery home, (let’s call it Fouse) I had a meltdown. A serious meltdown. In my rambling during this period I was so incredibly self-deprecating. C was the first to comfort me. Her words? “No one said you had to do this gracefully.” ZING!!!

So, though it was truly not a burning desire, since I am secretary and follow the last share, I identified and told this story for D, for C, for the newcomer, and yes, for me.

So what could have been a disaster was actually a success.
1) I was able to address and avoid a resentment almost immediately,
2) A bunch of alcoholics were flexible and pitched in,
3) Someone who really struggles, got to participate by volunteering to read,
4) I didn’t take the absenteeism personally,
5) I was reminded that I am not terminally unique,
6) I got the message and passed it on,
7) I stayed sober another day.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Any lengths.

Since yesterday’s romance, I have been talking to anyone who will listen. I phoned my sponsor after I spoke with my daughter, I told my roommates, I told M and others at the recovery home, I shared about it from the podium tonight. I was of service again to the woman who is renewing her vow of sobriety. I lead tonight’s meeting as the secretary, and secured speakers through the end of June. I attended a planning meeting for a fundraiser for AALA and offered my services without hesitation or self imposed restrictions. And I received and accepted warmth, love, hugs, and kisses at the meeting’s end. (Even from the person I’ve been avoiding who happened to show up tonight for the first time in months…Providence?)

The advice I received is as varied as our backgrounds and stories. What rang louder than anything for me was the chat I had with JBM, the woman that relapsed after a significant number of years of sobriety. I really picked her brain today (and it was her infinite wisdom that I share tonight so she “arranged” for my lottery ticket to be pulled…yeah, we do that sometimes when schtuff like this happens in our fellowship). I was most shaken by the fact that I could not sufficiently conjure up “the consequences” of taking that drink. What she said was…”Honey, if none of those things could stop you then, what makes you think they’d stop you now?” That made sense. She brought me back to what I was feeling on my last drunk (which was actually anticlimactic) and the hamster wheel I was on to kill those feelings. That was painful.

I don’t usually re-read my journal entries but I did this afternoon. The ones from the first days sober, and the ones from the first few days living in the recovery home. (I was sober 23 days when I moved in there, not that it matters. The feelings were the same.) I can’t even believe I am the same person. I’m not actually. The packaging is the same, but everything else has changed.

Even today, when I think back on yesterday’s seduction, I can’t believe that was me. My brain. Without mental defense against the first drink. There are moments when I am shaken, but for the most part, I feel like an objective observer. OO. It already feels like eons ago. I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.

Someone asked me this evening if it was the interruption by the phone or the person calling that stopped me. Would it have made a difference if it were my son, my baby girl, a friend, a bill collector, etc.? I honestly don’t know. I never want to be close enough again to find out. I’m assured by long-timers that it still happens even with 15+ years. With that in mind, I will pick brains, work the steps, listen, pray and meditate, go to meetings, work with other alcoholics, be of service, pick up the phone, and stand on my head if I have to. Any lengths.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Don't cross THIS line.

Date and I went to the meeting in Long Beach tonight that I cancelled 2 weeks ago. It was nice to take an evening drive and spend some time with my new friend. Outwardly he appears in a good place, or as good as he can be after the loss of his mother, and I think it did us both well to escape the city for a short time. This is a relatively new meeting a fair distance from home and I was looking forward to being anonymous. Well…if I didn’t believe it before, I certainly believe it now. It truly is a small world.

I was recognized and again called by name by someone I did not remember. It was a warm, instead of disorienting, feeling this time and I have made a mental note to pay attention to the friend requests I accept on Facebook. You never know who you’re going to run into. Seriously.

The uncomfortable moment came when I noticed that someone I have been trying to avoid and from whom I discourage communication was also there. I try not to avoid many people. I find it rude and hurtful. Yet, I just can’t shake this person. I feel smothered and just plain icky in his company. I haven’t heard from him in a couple of months, so I thought I had neatly gotten my message across without having to speak hurtful words.

But who was I trying to spare? Me, of course. My unreturned phone calls, ignored texts, and false interest in other things when we are in the same room served my purposes very well. I could easily blame him for not being intuitive, being clingy, or just plain creepy. What I can’t seem to do is look at how I am unable (or unwilling) to set boundaries. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my sponsor and I talked about this very issue this morning over coffee. The irony of the meeting’s name, “Principles Before Personalities” and the speaker’s chosen theme, “Honesty” also did not escape my notice.

Why can’t I be honest about my interest (or disinterest) in a relationship, or how my willingness to remain involved at a level at which I was once comfortable has changed? Why do I find it so difficult to articulate my needs? Why do I fear a display of hurt feelings in response? Why do I assume that THAT response it the one I will receive? This is an issue with which I have made very slow progress, if any at all. My sponsor may say I’m being too hard on myself and that I have made progress setting boundaries, but tonight I feel as if I took a few steps backwards.

With this chance encounter, I fear there will be an attempt at renewed contact. My brain is in a twist. And my gut tells me it’s going to be there for a long time unless I just do the work. If I set my boundaries in a loving way and stay out of the business of how that affects the other person, aren’t I giving both of us a chance at growth?

Of course, I need to learn how to set healthy boundaries at the onset of a relationship. I see serious work in my future.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Can you repeat that please?

I had the fabulous, unexpected pleasure to Skype with my son today. I love Skype! It gives me the opportunity to actually see my son, his facial expressions, and his hand gestures. He’s very expressive and has a sense of humor that just doesn’t stop. At times it takes my breath away how much he resembles his father. I said this to him once. I will not repeat that mistake, at least until he has time to heal his own wounds.

As it often happens, we talk about some very unlikely things for a mother and son. I feel tremendously blessed that we have such diversity in our talks, especially considering where our relationship was just a short time ago. When I replay our conversations in my head later, frequently I am flabbergasted by the depths we reach. He is as curious about my recovery as I am about his new Navy endeavor. Few topics are off limits.

Today, I talked to him about a series of dreams I have been having this week about his father. The subject matter was sensitive, and since he was in his room with his shipmates, he decided to put his earphones on for privacy. (Good move, son.) The dreams all have a theme so getting to the heart of the matter was simple enough. I did not offer graphic detail, but he is familiar enough with the symbolism in the dreams and how those things were (are) significant to both (all) of us. Before he spoke, he lowered his chin and stared directly into the webcam. Immediately I felt tears sting my eyes when he voiced his response.

“Have you talked to your sponsor about this?”

There have been many times, like this, where my pride in this young man is overwhelming. He has attended meetings with me, discussed attending meetings as support for me with his superior officer, educated shipmates about the “disease” of alcoholism not being about choice, but about what alcohol does for (and to) a person. When did this happen? When did he cross that line of contempt for me and what I had done to our family, to understanding the basic tools of my survival? When did he become a champion for the cause of alcoholism as a disease and not a moral issue?

I don’t think I will pursue the answers to these (and many more) questions. This is definitely a gift from God. I will merely say a prayer of thanks.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Conflicting messages.

My mind is a blank. My mind is racing.
I am an outsider. I belong.
I don’t want to be here. I’m glad I came.
I have nothing I want to share. Yes I do, please pull my number.
Please don’t come and hug me. Hey, come over here, I missed you and need a hug.

Yes, I went to my regular Wednesday meeting and THAT is what the committee in my brain was doing--the entire time. I can’t turn it off. I can only accept it as the crossed wires in this alcoholic’s brain. The wires that are designed to cause enough conflict to lull me into believing I’m different; unique. The same wires that turn “wah wah wah…wah wah” into a powerful message.

I went to the meeting, not for me, but for the newcomers in the room. (Magnanimous of me, wasn’t it?) What I didn’t count on was that a friend would stand up and identify as a newcomer after almost 2 years of sobriety. His relapse was all of one night, and he came back the very next day. I had felt him pulling away over the course of several months. This isn’t an isolated incident. It’s happened before with others. I either have radar about these things, or give off some kind of vibe. They say the mental relapse begins long before the physical one. Maybe living a lie most of my adult life, in one form or another, has given me a sixth sense. In any event, I felt a plethora of emotions when he identified and will no doubt process this with my sponsor tomorrow.

But what it boils down to for me (at least tonight) is this: I went. It doesn’t matter for whom. And that is only one of four crucial things I must do if I’m going to stay sober.

Don’t drink no matter what.
Keep my side of the street clean.
Help another alcoholic.
Trust that God is on the job.

By showing up, even when I didn’t feel like it, even when I’m in a very dark place emotionally, even when all I want to do is to isolate, I stayed sober another day. Does that mean I helped another alcoholic? I hope so. Cuz today…it’s all I could manage.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Green in, green out.

So I chose to not wear green today. Call me a renegade. Since my favorite color is, in fact, green, and I wear it all the time, St. Patrick’s Day does not offer me any inspiration to alter my choice of attire on a Wednesday.

Being a natural redhead, with a feisty temperament, I am mistaken for a person of Irish descent all the time. One of my roommates was born and raised in Ireland (any wonder that he is the roommate with whom I clash?) and when we first met, he called me “Irish”. It was endearing, though I often wondered if it was because he couldn’t remember my name or if he was making a reference to my attitude. He is proud of his heritage and I now believe it was meant as a compliment.

Today everyone is Irish. Everything is green. And I am no exception.

My baby brother is all about the Shamrock Shakes. Gosh how I used to love them as a child! Having followed his craving for the wonderful treat for the past 2 weeks, I got a bee in my bonnet to have one…today only. (See? I can inject green activities into my day.) Absolutely delightful memories came flooding back with the first slurp. Anyone who grew up in a large family where sending someone out for McDonald’s was a rare (and expensive) treat, can understand. We may have rarely been able to order a Happy Meal or Big Mac, but we could get a (small) Shamrock Shake. Today it’s a symbol for me of what sacrifices my parents made for us. And I am grateful to know and truly feel that I was loved and cared for, in the unique way that only my parents could have done.

As I take in the pleasure of the minty green shake, I think about the green that is flowing out. Money.

A few things set me off kilter this morning and I had my feet firmly planted in avoidance. So when I finally went out to my car, I found a lovely present from LA Parking Enforcement. Grrrr! Parking is a nightmare here on Wednesdays and Thursdays: street cleaning. And yep, I know the rules. So, when I chose the action (or inaction in this case), I also chose the consequence. While I am irritated that my actions brought this additional financial burden upon me, I accept it as a path towards becoming a person of integrity. Because of the way I live my life today as a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous, I will pay the ticket. And I will pay it on time.

I now patiently wait for St. Joseph’s day which falls on March 19th. A day to wear red and celebrate my Polish heritage. You bet your dupa I’m Polish!

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

So, I'm starting a blog...

What am I thinking???  Why would I open myself up to scrutiny by publishing a blog?  Especially one that has my recovery from alcoholism at its foundation?  I don't really have an answer to that question myself.  I do, however, know, that through writing, I have made some of the most profound discoveries about myself.  These have helped me to grow as a person and extend myself to others suffering from the disease of alcoholism.  One of my favorite movies, "Pay It Forward", echoes but one cornerstone of the AA philosophy.  By helping others, we are helping ourselves.  The realizations I have made, and continue to experience about myself thoughout this journey may help another alcoholic.  If I can make a difference in just one other person's life, then I have accomplished much.

In the spirit of my handwritten journals, I will be open, honest, and non-editing.  What I post here will be my unique thought process.  I will maintain the anonymity of my fellowship, so please don't tear up the airwaves, BBM, tweet, Facebook, MySpace, Xanga, etc. by blabbering what you read about so-and-so.  And if what you read strikes a cord because it resembles you, please know that I am including it here, not for shock value or as a point of gossip, but because it has somehow touched a place deep within me. It has given me pause, provided an opportunity for self examination, led me to personal growth, and obviously helped me in my journey. 

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.