Honesty

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I’ve written a ton of inventory on the current situation at home and had a nice long visit with my sponsor and gotten some clarity about the situation in my house, identified the causes and conditions within me that create my unhappiness, and gotten  a sense of peace about it.

First of all, it’s clear that if, when I go into the kitchen to make coffee in the morning and do not close my bedroom door and the dog runs into my bathroom and pees on the floor, that is because the dog’s owner IS NOT CAPABLE of caring for the dog.  The dog needs to get to spend some time outside every 2 or 3 hours.  Period.  The dog needs to get to spend some time outside every time he drinks water.  Period.  And if the dog’s owner is not capable of doing that, the responsibility rests with Jake and I.

I’m done with being frustrated about it.  It is just another example of how unmanagable my life is.  One way or another, my HP will solve this, provided I refocus and work on myself.  The roommate has 2 examples of what kind of adult behavior is expected.  I don’t need to explain it to him.  If he won’t conform, or if he can’t conform, he’ll have to find somewhere where what he is doing is acceptable, or I’ll have to find a place where I’m not placing my freedom at risk.

I can see that he’s making a little bit of effort, but I still feel like a hostage here.  A little bit of effort is the same as a half measure.  It avails nothing.  “We believe there is no middle of the road solution.”  Nothing short of completely different will do.

I wrote “Make Friends With Reality” on the chalkboard in the kitchen.  The reality that I’m trying to make friends with is that I get to take care of a dog who’s owner has abandoned him and live in a house where my roommate was replaced by an alien.  My sponsor advised me to ride it out.  He said at some point, probably in the not too distant future, I will know exactly what has to happen and I’ll have the ability to do it.  Whatever it is.  In the meantime, if I get crazy, I can always go back and write more inventory.

It’s the first day of recovery, again, for my first sponsee, Joe, who had the courage this morning, to admit that he relapsed.  Perhaps it wasn’t courage really so much as the absense of an adequate denial.  And perhaps it’s not the first day of a new recovery.  Okay.  Let me just be honest.  He’s acknowledged his relapse but I don’t believe he has taken any steps toward or is even interested in recovering.

It is a “day one” for me though.  I smoked my last cigarette 26 hours ago.  I am using a nicotine replacement product so the cravings are somewhat under control.  It’s not the same as smoking, but the edge is less sharp.  A good written first step on smoking seems like a good idea.  The first obvious, and really irritating symptom of unmanagability I’m dealing with at the moment is the smell.  I smoke in my house.  I attend AA meetings where smoking is permitted.  At one day off cigarettes I am acutely aware of the smell that permeates everything I own.  It disgusts me yet strangely it makes me want to smoke.

I know that smoking will kill me, and yet I smoke.  I think that fits the kind of definition of insanity that the program talks about.  And I have come to believe that a power greater than myself can solve all of my problems.  My experience has been that when I made a decision to stop using crystal meth, I found the strength and support I needed to do it, and I believe that If I make the same decision with cigarettes, I’ll have the same experience.

But it is day one.  I am edgy.  It will pass.  I’ll feel healthier.  The smell will wash out.  The craving will be removed.  I’ll be restored to sanity.  And God, in His infinite grace, will bless me with a little more happiness, joy, and freedom.

Facebook.  Yep.  Facebook.  I now count Facebook among my addictions.  When I’m at work, I’m at work, and when I’m at school, I’m at school, but the moments in between I’m checking Facebook every 15 minutes.  It makes me feel connected.  Crazy, I know.  Whatever.

Here, at least for the first year or so, I enjoyed a cerain level of anonymity which is so useful if you have a pathological ego.  You can actually really let your existential hair down and, bizarrely, that makes the quality of the work go up because the quality of the work correlates closely with it’s honesty.  And if I knew that anyone that knew me was reading this . . .  Especially at the beginning, when I was hemorrhaging the insanity that my life had been . . .   I couldn’t have done it.  I don’t do it.  Members of my family read this and my actual name is attached to it.

I still feel safer here than I do on the rest of the internet, which is really delusional, but it’s not Facebook, where, to paraphrase the late, great Karen Carpenter, “I’m living out my life on pages with ten thousand people watching.” Read the rest of this entry »

After taking a coin for my 2nd year sober (today) in a meeting tonight I was surprised to hear descriptions of me as I was during the first part of my recovery.  My first sponsor’s wife said that she had been scared of me.  “Don’t let that freak in my house,” she had told him.  He’s not sober today and she has less than 60 days.  I’m not judging.  I”m just saying.

The book talks about the desperation of a drowning man.  I guess desperate people probably seem a bit crazy, and if I was anything I was desperate. Read the rest of this entry »

Autopilot

Maybe the whole holiday ordeal was harder on me than I thought.  It looks like I’ve been on autopilot for awhile and it has kind of kicked my ass.  Now I’m doing the whole Oprah “I’m mad at myself” Winfrey thing, and while I’m writing this partially as a form of quick confession, I’m also writing it because it illustrates something that, when I read the story in the Big Book, seems kind of lame to me.

It’s the story of the guy who works at the company he used to own.  His pride is hurt.  He’s resentful.  He hits the road to go sell a car.  He stops for lunch, still butt sore over his stupid pride being hurt but not thinking about it and, hey!  I bet if I have some whiskey in a glass of milk it’ll be great!   Read the rest of the story at The Second Road>>

I am a product of Western Civilization.  I occasionally joke that I am in recovery from Western Civilization.  I am still occasionally sarcastic.  But I am a product of my dominant culture and as much as I pretend to resist it that means that I am the product of a Judeo-Christian tradition.

I am also a product of being raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, the Mormon Church.  A childhood steeped in and a lifetime spent around certain ideas makes a permanent impression on one’s character.  I am not a practicing Mormon, obviously, but what I valued in my childhood closely mirrors what I value today, and if you’ve ever seen Temple Square at Christmastime or seen the Tabernacle Choir’s Christmas special, you know that Mormons do Christmas like few other churches, except the Roman Catholic, can. Read the rest of this entry »

It was in the early hours of the morning of the day after my birthday two years ago that I was given my first step.  It didn’t feel much like a gift at the time, but that’s exactly what it was; a gift of grace.

Out of money and out of drugs, stood up on my birthday by the boy I was obsessed with, and hurt, and more afraid than I have ever been, I had set out to hunt down the object of my obsession and get fixed.  There wasn’t anything I was feeling that smoking a gram or two of crystal meth with a handsome sociopath who called me “buddy” wasn’t going to fix.  At least for awhile.  At least through the night. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m trying a little expirement in extreme practice of the principles in a specific area of my life that I requires specific behavior that very, very few people, addict or no, ever do.

Am I above the law?  The practice of humility requires that I answer no to that question.  And if I am not above the law then practice of the principle of willingness requires me to follow all laws.  Am I humble enough and am I willing enough to follow all laws?  Am I able to practice enough integrity that I can apply the answer to those questions to the small things as well as the large?  Can I practice honesty enough to be really conscious of what that all means?

Do I now, or am I even willing to . . . always observe the speed limit? Read the rest of this entry »

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