New Orleans

Normally, I'm not around alcohol very much. This is by choice and helps me not to drink it which I haven't done for the past 16 years. Spending the last 5 days in New Orleans where drinking is celebrated and encouraged, I am reminded of how much the rest of the world drinks. Watching people stumble around, glassy eyed and obliterated, and probably not going to remember much of how they got that way or what they did in the mean-time, I can't help but wonder: "Is that really the experience they want to have? Maybe the answer is yes. Although there were plenty of fun times when I drank, I usually lost control and did things I'd wished I hadn't done. I try to remember those times instead of the good times, because I do not wish to repeat this pattern I do not have control over. So when I was sitting in a cooking class in the French Quarter yesterday and asked about alcohol substitutes for bread pudding, I was a little surprised at the comments made: "Why did you come here?", "What do you do if you don't drink?". They were basically making fun of me for not drinking. I have not come across this before and am trying to figure out how I feel about it.

I have decided I'm happy with my relationship (or lack of) with alcohol. It doesn't matter to me what other people think of my choices. I have to live in my life and with the choices I make so it doesn't do me any good to change my behavior for other people. Maybe they haven't suffered as I have under the influence of intoxicants? Maybe they don't experience the shame and guilt I experienced. Maybe the pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization I felt doesn't show up in their lives? I've decided to take one for the team and be grateful I'm an alcoholic who does not drink. I am anexample of a person who does not drink and is happy. Cheers!

Wherever you go, there you are...

I was in Barnes and Noble the other day and a came across a book in the "discount" bin called, "Wherever you go there you are" by Jon Kabat-Zinn. I flipped through it and landed on a page where the sentence, "This is it" stood out to me. I started to realize that this is all there is. This moment I'm in is the only one I have. I typically don't like the moment I'm in, wishing for another moment that will be better. That this one isn't good enough. I think in terms of "It will be better later" or I'll lose weight next year, Next time I'll be happier, etc. When am I going to do those things if I don't do them now? How will I have the experience to think that way in the future if I don't think that way now? How will I know what to do, if I don't know what to do now. This is it. This is real life. This is all I have. These are the skills I have right now. If I want something different, I'd better do something different. Living in wishful thinking leaves me wishing for some other life, some other reality than the one I have. There is no other reality. This is it.

Perspective

Perspective is everything. There's a common belief in recovery that one cannot change their past but must learn to accept it for what it is/was. I found this useful in early recovery because I was so ashamed of my past and how I had behaved, I wanted to bury it and never look at it again. I wanted to pretend it never happened. I was gently guided to the realization that in order to make peace with my difficult and unskilled past, I must first accept it. Accept it fully with all its bumps and bruises? What a concept. However, even though I was reluctant to do this and frankly, didn't believe this was the way to go, I was so desperate for any kind of peace that I decided to listen and took the steps necessary to achieve this. The process is to work the steps, acknowledge my unskillful behavior so I can let go of the shame I feel. What resulted from this process besides being able to find peace with "what is" is the belief that even though I can't change my past, I can change my interpretation of it. No longer do I beat myself up for past behaviors because I know it was the best that I could do at the time, with the skills I had. There are plently of people who argue that I could have done "better". I would counter that if I could have done anything different, I would have.

I think we all do the best we can with what we have at the moment. I doesn't do any good to beat myself up or judge something in the past as inadequate. All that does is feed my low self-esteem. So, if you think you have a crappy past ... then you do. You can choose to change your perception anytime. Why not now?

Self care

What is self care? Does it mean I feel safe and loveable enough to take care of myself? I think the idea of giving myself what I want and need confuses me because I've spent so many years focusing on others and their responsibilities. I have lost the knowledge (belief) that its okay to take care of myself. God forbid I might be selfish!!

I struggle with the belief that others are responsible for making me happy, that others somehow know how to do that and I don't. This belief keeps me from the serenity I seek. I heard someone say once, "I learn what I believe by speaking." This is why I find tremendous comfort and relief in sharing at meetings. It doesn't matter if anyone understands or agrees. What matters is that I say these things out loud so I know what I believe. I can change anything that I acknowledge. I'll never know what it is unless I say it.

There is no recipe or formula for working these things out. There is no guidebook for learning self care. I have a guide in me, the intuition I regularly ignore knows what to do. I practice the new behaviors even though they make me uncomfortable. I can listen to the quiet voice that tells me when I'm off track, when I'm out of my mind and into yours. I can trust that I am being led. I except I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.

 What can I do right now to take care of myself?

Wishful thinking...

I have this habit of wishful thinking. I think this prevents me from experiencing serenity. I wonder where and when I acquired this tendency but I suppose it doesn't mattter because I have it regardless. It's not terribly useful to fantasize about having some other life than my own. Would I be different in that life? Would I be more like you? Would I be happier? This type of thinking reminds me of the NA slogan: "Wherever you go, there you are." So, knowing this, and I believe that I can't have the life I want (even if its yours) unless I do the work to change, its puzzling that I stick to the wishful thinking stuff. When I deconstruct it further, I couldn't possibly know what your life is like without being "in" you. I'm hopelessly stuck in comparing my insides to your outsides and falling short of how I think things "should" be.

I'm a work in progress that's for sure. Two years ago, when I started looking at my codependency patterns, I had no idea what I believed or that I was a wishful thinker. I acted unconsciously and was unaware of why I behaved and reacted the way I did. Awareness is my key to change because I can't change anything if I don't know I'm doing it.

I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. At least, that's what they say.

A plethora of Birthdays.

Today, I turned 53. Wow, I think, what a number. I don't mind being 53. The only thing that catches my atttention is I don't feel 53. At least what I think 53 should feel like. Mostly other 53's seem older, less active, more mature than me.

There are several interesting things that come to mind regarding April 6: 1) When I turned 11, my birthday was on Easter Sunday. It seems, statistically, that should happen more often in 53 years but it doesn't. This year got close. 2) My previous recovery sponsor of 12 years (Hi Anne) had her anniversay on this day, which made it super easy to remember. My current sponsor (Hi Jeanine) has her recovery anniversay on this day as well. Happy 16 dear heart. What are the chances? If I wasn't so mathmatically lazy, I would attempt to figure out those odds. Actually, the more I think about it, the less I would like to do that.

Another celebration to note is the demise of Suvanna's tumor. Good riddance. The last several months have been enlightening to say the least. The journey towards accepting death as a part of life was difficult. I don't know if I was completely in acceptance of my sister's untimely death but I came close and learned a lot about accepting things as they are not how I wish they were.

When someone relapses...

I work in recovery and sadly relapse is a normal and quite common occurrence in the population we treat. However, on Saturday,a co-worker of mine thought it was a good idea to drink herself into oblivion and return to the sober living home she manages. The residents became aware of her inebriation and became quite upset. Needless to say that when an employee does this they must be let go. Not only does this women lose her job but she also loses her place to live. The disease of addiction can sneak up on anyone. It pays to remain diligent, even if one has years and years of recovery, like me.

The relapse of my colleague brings up a dearth of emotion for me. First, I feel anger. I'm mad at the disease and I'm mad at my friend. Second, I am afraid. This woman seemed very solid and focused in her recovery. I had (still do as a matter of fact) a lot of respect for her and frequently went to her for advice and counsel. I look at this decision she made and am flummoxed by it. How does this happen? Is it as simple as choosing the drink over recovery in a moment of weakness? Or is it more complicated than that? I teach relapse prevention, and it's a process more than an event. There are certain, identifiable behaviors that if caught early on, can be corrected. Picking up a drink is the last thing that happens in the process. Was this preventable? Probably not, ultimately my recovery is up to me.

In AA there is a saying: There but for the grace of god go I.