But the cat loves me and I love the cat and the cat’s leg is healed and the cat is the bright spot of my world right now. At the moment she’s lying under my arm with her paws on the keyboard near the near the number pad watching me type.
Except for that I’ve been wallowing in self pity for about a month. I still have no energy though I know the antidepressants are starting to work. But I’m not better yet. Dishes and laundry remain undone and I’m reading blogs and napping and smoking nearly two packs of cigarettes a day. And watching Alien vs. Predetor; a new all time low.
I’ve got to rouse myself from this state and get back into action and I don’t seem to have the power to. All I seem to be able to manage is sleeping and eating and smoking and I guess, for right now, that has to be OK.
It’s not a recognized milestone of course. I just happen to like the number, and considering that in the early part of this blog, in it’s first incarnation as methedup, which is republished here, I truly was counting days so I thought I’d just revisit the practice.
There is a place in the book that says the people close to us often recognize the growth before we do. In other places it says variously “cessation of drinking is but the first step away from a highly strained, abnormal condition,” “we feel a man is unthinking when he says that sobriety is enough” and “by this time sanity will have returned.” These are, in my mind, among the most important reasons to practice 12 step recovery. Any program of recovery which simply accomplishes abstinence is lacking something essential.
I mentioned before that I have two cousins who have also battled addiction. One of them practices 12 step recovery and one of them is simply abstinent. I don’t know if the difference between them can be directly attributable to their different methods of recovery but I know that the contrast between them is sharp and my grandmother’s funeral really brought that contrast to my attention.
My first cousin arrived the day before the funeral with his two teenage sons in tow having driven several hundred miles. He was very ‘present’, not only with his mother, but with each member of our family. When he asked me how I am I knew he had genuine interest. When we talked about going back to work after a long period of addiction he shared real experience and keenly observed that many of the jobs we can get are jobs working with people that we have no business being around; exactly my experience. He assured me, from his own experience, that it gets better.
My other cousin, the one who is simply abstinent, had farther to travel but was traveling by air. When his brother went to the airport to pick him up his luggage was there but he wasn’t. His flight had been delayed. He chose to leave the airport to go have dinner. He wasn’t at the airport when his flight departed. He changed ticket and boarded a flight which would get him to a connecting flight in Denver. He missed his connection in Denver, saying that the airline changed the gate the flight was leaving from without announcing it and that the flight actually left early. There wasn’t another flight to Idaho Falls till the following day but that flight would not get him to Idaho Falls in time. After the funeral service in Idaho Falls his brother went to the airport to pick him up while the rest of the family drove 120 miles to Preston for a second memorial service and internment. By significantly exceeding the speed limit he arrived in time for the second service dressed in jeans and a t-shirt he’d been wearing for two days. He’s “still doin’ the music thing, promoting” and wants to open a club or a bar. He was great with the kids but I never really saw him engage with the adults.
Obligation was a factor in my attendance at grandma’s funeral but my real motivation for being there was to be there for and with my dad and despite the sorrow of the occasion, or perhaps because of it, the time with him was the most intimate, open time we’ve ever spent together. We talked about the contrast between my cousins and he shared his observations about my recovery. In the second appendix, “Spiritual Experience”, it says, “Quite often friends of the newcomer are aware of the difference long before he is himself.” My dad shared with me that this visit was the first time we’ve seen each other that he did not detect any flaws in my way of thinking. He said there were no ideas I shared with him that he disagreed with. He did not think any of my recent experience or plans for my future strange.
Perhaps it is because I tend to be hard on myself that I still see the flaws in my character more than I see the progress. I do see that I am recovering, though. At this point being abstinent without this thing we call recovery seems as strange to me claiming comfort, support and protection by painting shoes on your feet.
That was a more emotional weekend than I expected. I learned all kinds of things about my grandmother that I never knew; saw pictures of her I had never seen. It was clear from looking at them that she was as happy or happier in the last ten years of her life than she had been since she was a girl. She has suffered a crippling illness in her 50s that disfigured and left her with almost no use of one leg. She spent months in the hospital and afterward suffered terrible depression. Her faith carried her through that and ultimately her faith was the most important thing in her life.
She was the least envious person I have ever known. There will be no estate sale at my grandmothers house. She had already distributed her treasured possessions, of which there were few, and she lived austerely. For example, she had never in her life bought a new set of measuring cups. She was still using the set she had received as a wedding present.
It was interesting to go to AA meetings in Idaho Falls. The two I attended were “podium meetings.” I’ve never had to go to the front of the room to a microphone to share in a meeting, and of course, because I was a visitor, I was called on to share both nights. Fortunately I’ve learned how to share in a meeting, to stay on topic, to share MY experience in a general way and to share about the solution. I’m pretty sure I was on the mark because nearly every person who shared after made specific reference to something I had said. It was great to have the presence I hoped to bring to my family carry over to the meeting.
Even though the circumstances weren’t great, it was wonderful to see my dad. That is something I never thought I’d say. The greatest gift I have received in sobriety is the relationship I have with my father now. It’s good to be home. It’s good to be with my kitten (who’s leg is much better). It was good to go to one of the meetings here tonight.
The curtain rang down on a chapter of my life on Tuesday. My paternal grandmother passed away. She was 83. She is survived by three siblings, three children, 14 grandchildren and 23 great grandchildren. She was my last living grandparent.
When I was born all of my great-grandparents were living. It actually is more common than one might expect. Today all of my grandparents have passed.
It is interesting to me that the first sons of all my grandmother’s children have had epic struggles with addiction. Two of us have been in prison over it; me for crystal meth and my cousin for cocaine. My other cousin is the kind of classic alcoholic that the Big Book talks about. The last time he was admitted to an emergency room he had consumed so much mouthwash that no one expected him to live. By some miracle today all of us are sober.
I am incredibly grateful that I had the chance to spend some time with grandma after I got sober. Our family vacation near Sundance was the first time most of my family, including Grandma, had seen me since my grandfather’s funeral when it was evident to everyone that I wasn’t doing well at all. Another occasion after that we got to spend a little time visiting, just the two of us.
Even as the curtain rang down on that part of my life I am ringing the curtain up on a project that, while my contribution is minor, I am amazed to be a part of. The first preview of the multi-media theater piece produced by the Idaho Actors Collective was tonight. There was great feedback from the audience which included a representative from the State Board of Education. The goal is to bring the show to 100 middle schools in the 2008-9 academic year. None of us involved were ever moved by any of the anti-drug propaganda that we were exposed to but we all agree that we were never told true stories by our peers and that is precisely what we’ve set out to do. We have a cast of very young, very likable characters sharing real experience. We think we have something that our audience will actually connect with and that it will help open up real communication in the communities that see the project. Perhaps most importantly it will help break down the denial that exists largely among the parents and educators of the kids the show reaches. I am grateful that I have been able to contribute something to this project.
Things are good. Really good. Monday was fantastic. At least that’s what I should feel. That’s what Jim told me Monday night when I told him about my day. “You had an amazing day,” he said.
I did have an amazing day, but I didn’t feel like I did. I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t feel more like it when I woke this morning, or at any point throughout the day. I didn’t feel like it yesterday or the day before or the day before that.
Aside from learning my grandmother died even yesterday was great. And I don’t feel like it. Dishes are piling up in the kitchen. I haven’t done laundry in over a week. My back hurts and I can’t seem to get out of bed.
I spent yesterday in service to AA. I began the day at 7 AM with my friends Owen and Robert driving to Oregon to attend my first Area Assembly, the semi-annual meeting where the General Service Representatives (me) from around southern Idaho (the area) gather to conduct the business of Alcoholics Anonymous. It is intensly, what’s the word? Boring. It really is amazing to me that when you get a group of 150 alcoholics in a room that anything productive gets done at all.
I used to have a terrible bias against the service structures of AA, thinking that “AA as such ought never be organized” should exclude the kinds of middle management “service” that we do. But having attended this meeting I see the importance of this work and the value of having the process be so cumbersome. There is no more efficient way of carrying the conscience of individual groups up, to the larger group conscience, to get important work done. The most important work we’ve done recently has been to provide financial and experiential support to carry the message to Idaho’s large Spanish speaking community, including books and other literature, translation equipment so those groups can participate at assemblies and round-ups, etc. I am happy to have been able to participate in directing the use of 7th tradition money for that purpose and I am grateful to know what this kind of service is about. The process of getting that done, though, is an exercise in letting go of the outcome and not giving up on the process.
I got home at 7:30 PM and made my way to the 8 o’clock meeting and when I got there I called one of my sponsees who I had given directions for starting his 4th step a couple of days before. Without going into any of the sad details, in the last conversation I had with his parents at 9:45 PM I shared my experience with them that no one who ever stood in the way of the natural consequences of my use ever did me any favors. Helping me never helped. Because of the terms of my sponsees out-patient program and his disregard of those terms, he was thrown out of his house last night.
I had great hopes for this kid. He’s smart. He’s attractive. He’s talented. And he’s a real alcoholic, at least as nearly as I can tell. He’s the kind that actually has the best shot at getting sober the way we do it in AA; what we call a Type IV Alcoholic. He has that level of powerlessness and that level of unmanageability. I still have great hope for him, but I can’t manufacture willingness for people. God knows my own willingness was hard to earn. I know if he somehow manages to find that willingness he’ll be able to recover. He has to find his own way here. I pray he will find it soon.
Seriously. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. But I have to admit that even in their early-late thirties, a couple of these boys are undeniably hot. Bachelor numbers 1 and 2, specifically, whomever they are. I was never a fan. But if, at this advanced stage of boyhood, these guys can slap some lipstick on their pony and take the show back on the road, then I think there is hope that I can, too.
One of the items on my after care plan from the Walker Center was that I should go back to (and finish) college. So while I’m taking some time off my regular job and trying to cure this persistant sinus infection, not successfully yet in spite of the netti pot, etc., I thought it would be a good idea to make some progress toward that goal.
I went over to BSU yesterday and renewed my application for admission. I originally thought of simply doing one of the technical programs. A welding certificate would nearly double my income inside of 9 months and not really occupy any of the particular type of mental energy to continue really persuing recovery. It seemed like a good intermediate plan.
I may have to retool that plan, though. It seems that the last 2 semesters I tried to go, thinking that school would get me sober, I did such damage to my academic record that I am no longer eligeble for financial aid, aid which will be absolutely required if I am to be able to go back at all. I’m optimistic that things will work out.
That is really one of the most amazing parts of 12 step recovery, particularly after one has taken the steps. In taking each of the steps, one gains understanding of and experience with what we call “spiritual principles.” The could just as easily be called ethics or virtues, but they seem to be universal to every spiritual path and most secular plans for living. And by enumerating and naming these principles they are easier to identify, both when they are being practiced and when something isn’t working out right and I need to do something different.
Principles that are intuitively operative in the series of flaming hoops I currently have to jump through in order to reach this longer term goal are
Honesty (1st step) – You can’t believe how much the people at BSU want you to be able to get an education. Telling them that I was way too high to be attending school and that in the last 2 years I’ve taken significant action to fix the problem has really opened doors to getting the schools support in finding a solution.
Hope (2nd step) – I did great on the placement tests and my previous academic record show that I am capable of doing well in school, and with a path opening up for me to return there may be the possibility of reaching my goal.
Faith (3rd step) – If it is part of my Creators plan for me that path will clear itself.
Courage (4th step) – This would never happen if I didn’t take action.
Integrity (5th step) – I have been able to have my actions (showing up, making the application, taking the tests) match what I say I want to do.and without going into totally obvious detail about the others,
Willingness (6th step)
Humility (7th step)
Brotherly Love (8th step) not super in operation here, but maybe I’m not seeing it.
Justice (or Accountability – 9th step)
Perseverance (10th step)
So it seems that in order to solve the “academic progress” hoop, I have to return to an academic program. That could easily be the hand of my HP letting me know that welding is not in my future. And it seems that academic counseling will be required. I was directed to the department that helps returning and non-traditional students and I have an appointment on Tuesday. I am taking the writing placement test again because I missed the cutoff for testing out of English 101 by ONE POINT. I need to take a non-credit math class, but thats no surprise. And finally, the financial aid counselor got me the paperwork to appeal the aid decision, congratulated me on getting sober, let me know what they needed to override their decision, and congratulated me again.
So I’m optimistic. I will get to school. And I may get to school sooner that later. So I guess you’re never too old to start again. Even if the dance moves have changed.
Grace saved me from getting a dog. Sort of the same way I was delivered to grace when I was broken, Grace was delivered to me broken. You’ll notice her right leg is kind of at an odd angle. I’m thinking it’s just dislocated because there isn’t significant swelling, but someone obviously stepped on her. She’s a little shy, especially of feet. And it obviously hurts her to put pressure on that leg. So I have to get the kid some medical care.
Lame II
I just left an AA meeting where there was a newcomer and someone who has struggled with relapse, who’s struggling still and who brought up the topic. A friend of mine has pointed out that we don’t call on ourselves at meetings. For the most part I tend to agree. If the meeting is going to hell I’ll call on myself but otherwise? God can work it out. But a part of embracing that paradigm is remembering that if I’m called on I should be willing to share my experience, strength and hope. If we don’t call on ourselves then when we are called on it is for a reason. And at this meeting, with the newcomer and the struggling retread, three people were called on in succession; three people with multiple years of sobriety and who have all worked all 12 steps.
Three times in succession people with the solution were called on and each of them passed. “I’m just here to listen.”
You’re just here to listen?
Fuck you just here to listen. That is not a reason to go to a meeting. Don’t say that we don’t call on ourselves and then when you’re called on refuse to share. When you’ve got the solution and when there are people who need it. Carry the message. Practice the principles or get the fuck out.
Lame III
The imaginary future ex-husband was arrested the other night. Birthdays. Mother’s Day. He has amazing timing, huh?
Misdemeanor DUI and felony possession of a controlled substance. Those of us who care about him have seen this coming since late November. Considering the effort that was put into ‘being there’ for him, something I have never enjoyed, I am disgusted that so much time and energy can go into a lost cause, throwing the message away on a “cannot or will not” rather than simply carrying the message to men who are sitting in that meeting, looking for the answer, willing to show up.
IFX has been paroled 3 times on his original charge, possession, and now he’s violated on a new possession charge. Imposition of his original sentence will mean he is gone for a minimum of 5 years.
I’m truly happy to not be my cat, to not be a newcomer in that meeting, to not be one of the ‘old timers’ in that meeting, to not be the IFX and to not be involved with the IFX today. And I am grateful that for all my kvetching today that I have a solution; that I don’t have to continue to be dragged down spiritually by such things. I’m grateful that the lame like me can walk again the minute they are willing to.
The curtain rang down on a chapter of my life on Tuesday. My paternal grandmother passed away. She was 83. She is survived by three siblings, three children, 14 grandchildren and 23 great grandchildren. She was my last living grandparent.
Things are good. Really good. Monday was fantastic. At least that’s what I should feel. That’s what Jim told me Monday night when I told him about my day. “You had an amazing day,” he said.
Lame I
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