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.

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.

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.

When God talks.

Peculiar mental twist. Mental obsession. Abnormal thinking. Bill W. had various ways of describing it. I will not argue. I was squarely in its grip this afternoon.

The day was uneventful. I slept fairly well last night. Fell into my morning routine with ease. Ran a few errands. Then came home.

I was sitting on the balcony, thoroughly enjoying relaxing in the sun when the thought occurred to me how wonderfully perfect it would be to enjoy a drink before heading to my evening support group. In my mind I pictured a Czech Crystal tumbler, half full of ice, with a sparkling, dark amber liquid lazily caressing the cubes. I even closed my eyes. I could smell the heady oak.

My eyes came open and I heard my sponsor’s voice urging me to think it through to the end.

I imagined which liquor store I would visit. Which bottle I would choose. The selection of glassware. The clink of the ice chunks as they hit the glass. The splitting sound of the seal. The crackling of the ice under the stream of scotch. How much…1 shot or 2? The sting against my tongue and throat. The warmth as it reached my blood stream. The feeling of relief.

I pushed thoughts any further than this out of my mind, always returning to the sparkling liquid and the floating feeling I was after. I tried for several minutes to conjure up the consequences. They seemed to noisily fly and twist through my brain. Unrecognizable, black, and ugly. I could not wrap my brain around a single one. The seduction of the drink kept interrupting me. The romance was much more powerful than the reality.

I felt myself rising from the chaise headed for my purse and car keys, no doubt to pursue the object of my desire, when I heard the phone ring.

Firstborn.

As I stared blankly at the caller ID, I turned my face to the blinding sun and whispered, “Thank You”. Then I closed my eyes to watch, in my mind’s eye, the glass fall from my hand and shatter against the floor. I heaved a sigh of relief. Better the glass and the illusion than me.

Now..."What's up Buttercup?"

She is as God-sent today as she was 21 years ago.

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.

Super-size mine, please.

When I order fast food, I am presented with so many choices. Which meal deal would I like? Fries or onion rings? Diet Coke or regular? And of course, would I like it small, medium, or large? I love a good deal, so more often than not, I opt for the super-sized meal. It fits nicely with one of my many character defects. (So does the fast food restaurant, and the drive-thru, but that’s another blog entry.)

I really got a lot of bang for my buck this evening.

My reaction this evening to a situation that presented itself was instantaneously “over the top”. My sponsor calls this being too big for what the current situation warrants. When I felt my face flush, started hyperventilating, and my ears began ringing, I knew that this was one of those times. I could not however, articulate where the underlying culprit lay, so I called my sponsor. I’ve been in similar situations before, and through many weeks of what must have been dozens of moments when she wanted to bang her head (and probably mine, too) against a wall, her patience with my immature processing skills paid off. The first of those instances was a HUGE “aha! moment” where I felt instant relief. She must have too. It is that moment I usually recall when I am on the other side of super-sized emotional responses.

What my sponsor has helped me to learn is that the underlying reason is not about the current situation or the people involved at all, but what it represents from my past. When I phoned her this evening, I was in full blown (albeit, manufactured) crisis. I was angry and it had everything to do with “them” and how I was being persecuted. As we talked, the process brought me to that first breakthrough where I realized that this was not about this particular incident. Certain elements were reasonable enough for my adult, recovering alcoholic self to process. Other elements, the ones that provoked the really BIG response, were about experiences in my childhood. The feelings were all present and accounted for, but the players were not from the original cast and crew.

I haven’t been exactly utilizing my sponsor as much as I should in the past couple of weeks like I used to. (We’ve talked about that briefly, and she was loving, patient, and kind…but I know there’s work coming regarding that…oh there will be work!) But what used to take weeks, maybe months, to process and resolve, took only 20 minutes this evening. HUGE! HUGE! HUGE! And while I still have the actions to perform that will bring closure to this situation, I am grateful that I can still do what I need to do when faced with a monster of a reaction. And that’s to pick up the phone.

(Is it a coincidence that I began reading “Codependent No More” again this morning before this all occurred?)

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.