Time takes time . . .

Probably one of the most important things I learned in early recovery; time takes time.  I was always looking for and expecting to see big changes, and I wouldn’t see any change or sometimes only little ones.  My sponsor would tell me that time takes time.

There is no balm for grief like time.  Even a little time has helped; a little time and beiing a little bit nice to myself.  I wore a shirt with french cuffs today, because I like cuff links.  Men in cuff links make me forget my name. (William Finn’s line.  Not mine.)  I checked QuitNet a bunch of times over the last couple of days to watch the money I’m saving by not smoking add up and watch days be added to my life expectancy.  I even figured out how many hours of life I’ve already gotten to experience by multiplying 5 minutes by the number of cigarettes I haven’t smoked.  Twenty-five hours.  I’ve lived twenty-five hours of my life instead of smoking them.

So I’ve gotten to be more present in my present, even if it’s been sad.  And time is helping.

I remember several occasions when I had significant loss while I was still using crystal meth.  Those feelings of grief never went away; they never resolved till I got sober.  Sure, I could push the pain away while I was high with varying degrees of success, but I never came out the other side.  The grief was always frozen in place, waiting to be reactivated.

It’s easy to think that drinking or using, or even smoking for that matter, would help me cope, but it never helped me cope.  It just kept me frozen in time.

I’m grateful today to be sober, and clean, and smoke free and I’m grateful that time heals.