promises

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That Was Then; The difference recovery makes

December 21, 2011 in Living in Recovery, promises by Chris | 3 comments

2006 Grades

Spring 2006 Grades

Fall 2011 Grades

Fall 2011 Grades

My grades are in.  I’ve made it through my first semester of school.  Actually I’ve finished up my Freshman year finally.  So here are my grades.  Here are my current grades and my grades from the spring before I got sober.  I feel like I should have a disclaimer on my recovery. “Results are not typical.”  And while everyone’s experience of recovery will be personal to them, these pictures are an honest representation of what I was like and what I’m like now.  What happened is I got sober. Read the rest of this entry »

Little Pink Houses – and all I really did, I think, was stay sober

November 20, 2010 in Gratitude, Living in Recovery, promises by Chris | 7 comments

Little Pink Houses - and all I did was stay sober

Little Pink Houses - and all I did was stay soberOn November 29th, 2007 is was 10 months and some days sober and in training for a job at McDonald’s; a job which, it turns out, I was barely capable of doing, my brain still healing from the years and years of crystal meth I did.

Ultimately I wasn’t even able to keep that job.  At nearly a year sober I was still so fried that I could barely do anything but focus on my recovery; pray, meditate, write, work with a sponsor, go to meetings, etc.  I imagine that most other people’s stories aren’t like that, even the stories of isolated, gay crystal meth addicts.  I fell down the scale much farther than was necessary for me to be able to see that I was an addict.  I just didn’t have enough motivation to do anything about it.  I had given up and I had no hope that it would ever be better, so why not just stay high.

I imagine that other people’s stories aren’t as extreme as mine, but for me, getting to the place where I could hold down a job was a big deal.  After a year sober I was given a scooter, which helped me get to a better job and hold that.

At 2 years, I got a car.  A really decent car.  Probably the best car I’ve ever had, and certainly the safest and most economical.

That was almost exactly 2 years ago.  In between I’ve held down the same job, maintained the same residence (with a roommate who is out of town 8 months a year), keep the same phone number, buy the business I worked for and manage to not drive it into the ground.  It hasn’t made any money but it has given a decent living to all of us who work there and in this economy that is a minor miracle in itself.

I’m a little less than 2 months away from my 4th sobriety anniversary and a few days longer that 2 years after the purchase of my car, and I have been given the opportunity to buy a house.  Of course I don’t qualify for the home loan on my own, but my parents are very fortunately situated so the financing is taken care of.  Still, honestly, I didn’t believe I’d ever get to own a house.

It’s a cute little mid-century (1959) ranch with 3 bedrooms, one bath, oak floors, a fireplace, on a quarter acre with a stone, wood-burning BBQ, apple trees, plum trees, and roses everywhere.  There are no repairs the house needs.  It has been beautifully maintained.

The only thing I’ve really done perfectly is not drink or use.  I have been awake whenever the idea that “this time will be different” would sneek into my mind and vigilantly dismiss the thought as insane.  I have done the best I can with what is in front of me – much of the time.  I have learned a ton, but never by doing it right the first time.  I have made every possible mistake along the way.

I’m not suggesting at all that if you stay sober for 4 years you’ll get a house.  I am saying that if you stay sober, if you actually fix your life, everything will change.  And even though some things will suck, and some things will hurt, and some things will set you back, your life will change for the better.

Saturday, 6:38 AM

September 11, 2010 in Gratitude, Living in Recovery, promises by Chris | 2 comments

I have strung together a few hundred ordinary days together sober now and they all start up pretty much the same, at pretty much the same time.  I do pretty much the same things, usually in the same order.  I often eat the same thing for breakfast.  I feed the cats.  On work days I leave the house anywhere between 6:30 and 7:30.  I take the garbage out to the street on Friday mornings.

Last night I was out till nearly 12 and had hoped, when I went to bed around 1 that I would sleep in a couple of hours.  That wasn’t the case.  Just like every other day I found myself awake at 6, wishing today that I could go back to sleep.  When I realized that wasn’t going to happen I drove to Starbucks and ordered a Venti sugar-free vanilla soy latte from they man with the beautiful shoulders and kind eyes, the one that hangs out at the drive-thru window to talk to me even when he has work to do.  In spite of going to a meeting that is way past my bedtime and socializing far too long afterward, today started in a quietly beautiful and ordinary way.

Days in my old life never began quietly or beautifully.  There was one in particular that I was remembering as I drove east into the sunrise from Starbucks to my house.  I had a job at the mall and my shift started at 10 AM.  I had been high for several consecutive days and was at the point where I was so tired that my body would just shut down even though I was high and trying to get higher.  I’m not sure exactly what time I slipped into unconsciousness.  When I awoke the clock read 9:30.  I panicked.  Most mornings began with panic but this one, even for me, was off the chart.  I ran through the shower as quickly as I could, pulled on an un-ironed shirt and flew out the door.  9:52.  I was going to be late, but not that late.  Enough to get in trouble but not enough to get fired.  I jumped in my car and went blasting west toward the freeway.  I had just gotten on the freeway when I realized that the sun was coming up in the wrong direction.

My panic deepened.  Was I half a day early or was I half a day late?

I guess if I got to have my way with it I would have gotten a little more sleep last night, but having things my way is nothing compared with having serenity and peace of mind.

Straightening Out Physically

August 11, 2010 in Ephemera, Humility, Living in Recovery, promises by Chris | 5 comments

My body has been a challenge from the moment I got sober.  Things bother me that I would never have noticed before.  And I don’t know if it is that I’ve totally damaged myself from my years of crystal meth use or if I’m just some kind of unluckily predisposed to illness kind of being.

Early in recovery it was respiratory stuff; bronchitis, sinusitis, that sort of thing.  It didn’t help that I was still a smoker.  Getting through the first winter sober required several rounds of antibiotics.

The second winter sober required several rounds of antibiotics, too, but I guess they didn’t do much good if I ran around with pneumonia for 3 or 4 months, eventually needing a couple of major surgeries to get me better.  I don’t know how better I got.  I still have pain from the surgery.  I look at my back and side and I feel like Frankenstein.  And all that time, those 2 months of recovery, laying in bed, taking vicoden (as prescribed – but so what, that shit is hard to do when you’re “sober”) losing faith, losing hope, losing “conscious contact”.  All of that is normal, I’m told, for anyone in recovery going through what I went through.  But it’s been a year and some months later and I’m OK.  I don’t have the Burning Bush kind of Higher Power that baptized me into recovery.  It’s quieter now.  I have to look for it.  I miss the Burning Bush – but what I have now is OK.

I have convinced myself that my head is OK – but my body says otherwise.  A week ago last Saturday the skin on my leg became really sensitive, but there was no rash; nothing to indicate that something was wrong.  I thought maybe it was the length of my shorts rubbing that part of my leg or maybe my new detergent wan to blame.

Last Saturday I woke up with a full-on, huge case of shingles that was spreading before my eyes.  I went to the doctor immediately and I started taking medication to stop it within hours, which I guess is a good thing.  It continued to spread, in spite of the medication.  It seems to finally be calming down.

It makes me wonder, am I really the same as I was before I had half my lung hacked out?  Am I still so completely unaware of my mental and physical state that things like this happen.  I thought when I straightened out spiritually I was supposed to straighten out physically and mentally.

I thought I had been taking pretty good care of myself; three meals a day, going to bed at a decent hour, etc.  I thought that I was handling beautifully the pressure I’ve been under at work.  Then my body tells me what’s really going on.

I know that I must be recovering from my drug addiction because when I was using I might not have even seen a doctor.  This could have been much worse than it was.  Like that terrible relationship I almost got in to, I recognize when something is wrong now and I take action.  I put “first things first”.  The first thing to do when you can actually see the blisters forming is go to the damn doctor.  I guess that is what progress looks like.  One of the differences between me on drugs and me sober is that I see a doctor when I need to.

Maybe – just maybe – God is doing for me what I cannot or will not do for myself; slowing me down.

By the way, don’t get shingles if you don’t have to.  This hurts like a . . .

Everything. All At Once.

April 11, 2010 in promises by Chris | 6 comments

It’s easy to forget how things were three years ago.  It’s easy to forget how things were as I was first getting sober.  I’m lucky that I have a pretty raw written record of the experience.  It helps sometimes to go back and look at it, especially when it feels like things are changing.  And things are changing.  Everything.  All at once.

Rereading my early entries it is almost painful to remember the fears I struggled with.  Fears like wondering how I was going to make a living, the desperate loneliness I felt, the feelings of inadequacy and shame that plagued me constantly.  At the same time, I can see that in spite of all of that I had some glimmer of hope and a little bit of courage to move forward.  I had an eagerness to grow.

Now I don’t struggle with wondering how I’m going to make a living.  Tomorrow my partners and I are buying the company I work for, which right off the top will give me health insurance, a 401K and a very modest raise.  It also gives me a large stake in the future of the company.  If I manage it well I anticipate my share of the profits will equal three times my salary.  I’ll pay off all that medical debt from my surgery.  Pay off my student loan.  Sock money away in savings and make some financial amends.  My economic security picture has flipped, or is flipping 180 degrees.

The loneliness thing has changed substantially, too.  There are friends, of course.  There have been friends from almost the day I got sober and the relationships I have with people now are wonderful.  But it appears that I have also attracted myself a boyfriend.  A gorgeous, ambitious, successful, intelligent, sober boyfriend.

Its almost too much to take in.  But I’m liking it.  I’m liking it very much.

Pennies From Heaven

April 6, 2010 in Greed, promises, Spirituality by Chris | 7 comments

“Although financial recovery is on the way for many of us, we found we could not place money first. For us, material well-being always followed spiritual progress; it never preceded.”  -Alcoholics Anonymous

I’m still doing my usual routine, staying close to sober friends, attending meetings, writing inventory when it is indicated, seeing my sponsor regularly; the same stuff I’ve done for the last 38 months or so, yet I find myself in an odd situation.  As I have taken on a larger role and accepted more responsibility in the company I work for I have discovered that the reasons I have had my paychecks bounce in the past is only that my company is astonishingly mismanaged.  And that is unacceptable to me.  So I’ve written inventory about my boss and about my job.  I’ve prayed and prayed and prayed.  I’ve talked to my sponsor and with a small handful of close friends and family. Read the rest of this entry »

Adventures in Sobriety

February 9, 2010 in Gratitude, promises by Chris | 4 comments

I never would have thought I’d have an opportunity like this again.  The end of my drug use, and even for the most part the first 3 years I’ve been sober, have been pretty uninteresting and I have actually become pretty resistant to change.  Variation kind of freaks me out.  I feel so secure in my little rut.  This week though, I’ve had to travel to the Central Valley of California to a huge farm show for work, something outside of my usual comfort zone, and I’ve been happily expanding my vistas. Read the rest of this entry »

Nothing You Can Find – Reprise

November 17, 2009 in Gratitude, promises by Chris | 7 comments

I was thinking about an old post last night, Nothing You Can Find That Cannot Be Found, and about how lucky I was, that early in recovery, to have been protected from the worst of my temptations.  A little space for a little while can be a good thing while you’re getting your sober legs.  I was thinking about it because Daryl, who used to sell me drugs, and who has been in prison as much of his adult life as not, walked in to my home group last night.  It alarmed me a little, I suppose.  He’s not the nicest guy.  I was just thinking though that if he or any number of other people had been around at the beginning or if for some reason I found myself with crystal meth sitting in front of me, how hard it would have been to stay sober.

When I came to work this morning I found a loaded glass pipe on the side of the building.  I wonder at what point in my recovery the obsession and compulsion left me; at what point I became well enough to be confronted with a supply of crystal meth and to respond by throwing it in the trash.

“There’s nothing you can find that cannot be found,” goes the song.  I’ve found crystal meth on the street now.  I also found a way to not have to use it.

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