Grateful

Today I was overwhelmed by emotion.
Mainly gratitude.
Gratitude to God for progress, not perfection.
Gratitude for growth because of sobriety.
Gratitude that last week when my past was shoved in my face that I took it like an adult. I didn't like it, but I could see why the person was acting the way they were. I could see this because I have acted that way. I might act that way again someday too.
Gratitude that I could admit my mistakes and still hold my head up high.
See last week a conversation didn't really go my way. Some hurtful things were said to me. I stood up for myself which was major progress with this person. They usually are able to condense me to a pile of ruble in no time. But I didn't get mean & ugly back. I didn't throw at them all the things that has made me angry over the last 4 years. Hell, over the last 40 years. I stood up for myself without having to take them down. I wasn't always that way. Although I cried, and cried for many reasons, ultimately I could see what was driving the defensiveness and meanness that ensued.  I accepted this persons opinion although I did not agree. I trusted that I had done that right thing and was doing the right thing in the future. I was going about my plans in the right way too. I knew that I had to trust in my higher power because we had already talked about my decision. I've been listening. His answer has been consistent so there was nothing more I could do but trust so I did.
Today fences were mended. Transgressions forgiven. Futures planned. Bonds healed. Love & acceptance validated.  All because of faith and trust. ALL because of my higher power.
And for that I am grateful.

Sometimes the Truth Hurts

I didn't use to have many boundaries. A few but not many. I certainly didn't have them when it came to what came out of my mouth. I thought it was funny for a long time just saying what I thought.  Most of the time I was still holding back some too. People thought I was vulgar or had no tact and I thought they needed to get over themselves and that if people were more honest with each other than the world would be a better place.  I still think that truly, but now I realize the value of a little white lie or at least skirting the issue or of no response at all.  The ability of artfully changing the subject can be a wonderful skill. Twice this past week though I've pushed a little farther than I should have even though all the flags were raising in my head to stop. I ignored them and soldiered onward and both times I got a taste of my own medicine. A giant slap in the face of the truth as others saw it, and after some thought, I saw it too. 
First I let someone tell me that my personality invites trouble. I didn't really know what he meant at the time so I asked him to elaborate. This from a man that takes pleasure in causing controversy and seeing others squirm or angered.  This is his entertainment.  I know better than to engage with this person but here I was asking for him to explain himself. Now his reasoning I did not agree with and at first I was mad as he well thought I would be I'm sure. How dare he say that. He didn't understand. But yet he did exactly understand and so did I because by engaging in this conversation with him and ASKING him to elaborate I was definitely inviting trouble. I was letting him tell me about me when the man has never even asked me a question about myself.
The next episode started out of my need to feel better about myself and instead had the opposite effect.  I let some of my old behaviors show up. There are parts of me that I haven't really had to deal with much in sobriety yet living where & how I do.  See I thought I'd moved past this insecurity of being liked and wanted and I was glaringly reminded tonight that I am no where near being past that. Maybe I'll never be. I doubt I will ever be. But once again I ignored the flags raising in my head. Not once but 2 or 3 times I ignored them and pushed my toe into the water a little more each time. I let this person hurt my feelings.  Someone that hasn't even asked one question about me. But he saw my picture and decided that I was not only older but also out of shape and carrying some extra weight. Yes I'm overweight. It's certainly not something I like about myself but I am trying to change it. How he said it wasn't really mean but the sentiment was very clear. I let something fun go to far because I wasn't sure how to make that boundary and I ignored all the warning signs and I got my little feelings hurt.  But I'm not even mad at him.  He was being who he was, just as I had always been in the past. As he said, "I'm just stating the truth" and that he was. But the truth hurts sometimes. Me saying I'm aging and overweight is one thing. You telling me I am is completely another. See we have the little white lies we tell ourselves too.  Those are probably the most dangerous ones. I KNOW I'm overweight but my head says I'm not THAT fat.  I don't look like THAT! My head says I still have a pretty face (despite my double chin).  I take my picture to hide my body or my double chin as much as possible. That's the lie I try to tell to the world. 
The scene left me literally speechless. Spouting rude retorts didn't seem appropriate and any witty comeback left me immediately. I decided to say nothing. End of conversation. I also decided that I needed no future interactions with that person.  I don't need other people bringing me down or just being rude for the sake of being blunt. More lessons to learn.  More work to do. More encouragement to change the things I can. I can't change the aging. It's a part of life and I'm happy with that part so far. But I can and am trying to change the weight, the way I let others affect my feelings about myself, the way I listen to the red flags and the warning signs, the way I work on my recovery.  Those are things I can change.

The hardest thing

The night my mom & I had to turn off my sister's life support, well I thought that was the hardest thing I'd ever do. And at the time it was, but I also knew at the time that it was the right thing and according to her doctors the only thing to do. Alison would never be the girl she once was and leaving her on life support wouldn't be what she wanted. Plus 4 of 5 doctors said it went against their medical vows to try to further treat her. So that decision had boundaries. And even though I felt a lot of guilt for a long time after that I also knew in my heart it was the right thing to do.
Then I gave up drinking and eventually smoking. Now that was difficult in it's own way's for sure but for me neither was a physical dependence at the time. I was certainly mentally dependent on both. And with sobriety came even more smoking at first. No one there was going to nag me about smoking. But I'd always said I'd have to give up alcohol/drugs to quit smoking so smoking more, which I was, seemed a little ridiculous and I got sick and I quit. Now I did relapse one weekend but I stopped everything again just a couple of days later. Those acts were hard but it's been staying sober at times that has probably been the hardest. Learning to live with my feelings and actions and dealing with life on life's terms. There are still many times I'd like to check out of my feelings but now I just take a nap, say a prayer and they usually pass.
But here I am again. Making difficult decisions. I don't really LIKE making hard choices. I want to know what the future holds first. But we all know that's not the way it goes. We have to make hard choices on blind faith. That's what is different now in my decision making. Today I have the faith. Today I can also feel it in my gut. When I choose to move here a little over 4 years ago, just recently sober, I had resisted for a while but God was pretty much leaving me no other choices. And when I finally made the decision things just started falling into place. I also shed a lot of tears which I didn't understand at the time but later realized I was grieving. Grieving the dreams and ideals I had when I was drinking. I know, what drunk has dreams and ideals, but I think for a lot of us the lack of achievement of those dreams and ideals helps us on our path of addiction.
I've made a decision. A hard decision. An even harder decision for me to carry out. But since I made the decision in my soul the doors are opening and the support is unfolding and my soul knows it's right. My emotions on the other hand are going to struggle. I'm going to spend the next few months of carrying out this plan grieving for a lot of things. Even though I know it's right I'm going to struggle with some guilt. Guilt that I'm sure somewhere down the line I'll be able to let go of because I'll be able to finally see, looking back, that it was the right decision to make. But making it and carrying it out are going to be hard. I'm going to grieve. I'm putting my grandmother in a nursing home. I had hoped God wouldn't make me make this decision. That He'd make it easy on me and let her pass in the night. That might still happen and I largely think God needed ME to come to this point for Him to carry on. I think He's been waiting on me to catch up because I've known for a while now that Nana hasn't still been here for herself. She's still been here for me. And maybe the others. Maybe I need to leave so they can have their time with her. I don't have that answer yet.
What I know right now today in this moment is it's going to be hard. Hard to give up the most consistent place in my life, this home and that woman. With that is the end of tradition and security and a sense of safety and roots. Lives will be cleaned out, boxed up and many things discarded. Loved animals will have to be given away. Many difficult decisions and moments lie in my future. Right now it will be the hardest thing. To say goodbye. To walk away. To pursue my future. To learn to stand on my own & face the unknown. I'm scared. I'm excited. I have hope. I have fears. But for once my FAITH in the future outweighs all those fears and this is a spot I haven't really experienced much before. But my soul knows it's right. My soul knows it's going to also be difficult. Is it the hardest thing I'll ever do? I don't know. I know it will be the hardest thing I do right now.

Hoarders

So tonight I watched Hoarders on A&E for the first time. I'd caught glimpses of the show before but never watched a whole episode. I thought I would find it difficult to watch and I did. My mom was a hoarder. I grew up in a house like some of those. Not near as bad as many but without my sister and I it could have been. The second episode was a woman named Augustine. I can say without doubt that if my mother hadn't died she would have eventually became Augustine. I guess it's difficult to watch because of the shame I felt. The shame when my friends came over and our house was a wreck. Obviously it wasn't as bad as some of the episodes that air because I wouldn't have let friends over at all. There were times though. And there was a room you could never get into. And then we got roaches. And my mom's sickness got worse after my sister died. I turned farther into drugs and alcohol and my mom turned farther into shopping. And if I'm honest I have some of the shopping problem myself. I recently started keeping a check register even for my debit cards because I'm tired of being financially irresponsible. I have a seriously long way to go & it's the one thing that still holds lots of shame for me. I've come a long way already because I have to make sure that Nana is taken care of and I don't like telling her we don't have something. But sometimes I have to and that's ok when I've been doing the right thing. It's hard when I haven't. And I know to be a better, happier me then I have to get rid of the shame. I felt so sorry for those kids tonight, grown or otherwise, because even if you are grown that person is still your family. I wish the show focused a bit on the recovery. At least let us know if 6 months to a year later they were better. I know that there are a lot of layers that trash is covering up.
Intervention was just to much. When that girl was sticking a needle in her neck I just about threw up. I never shot drugs. I knew a few that did but I never liked to even be in the same room. I guess it upsets me because I know what my 'yets' are and I know that is one of them. I know drugs started out as a fun social thing and it wasn't that way down the road. So that's my emotional evening. I made myself keep watching Hoarders because I think there is probably some emotions there that I need to face. Some shame I need to let go of.

Bah Humbug!

I used to love this time of year. I used to enjoy searching for just the right gift for my friends and family members. I especially loved going shopping for my sister. We stuffed each others stockings and it was always my favorite thing to get and my favorite thing to shop for. Since my sister died my mom took up the job and since her death my cousin does it. It's my only surprise and I appreciate her efforts dearly.

But honestly I don't like this time of year anymore. It seems lately that it's just a big reminder of what I don't have anymore. I KNOW I have LOTS to be thankful for, but for some reason I can't seem to get past the loss today. It doesn't make any sense to me how I can be so full of joy as I was last weekend and back to down in the dumps today. I'm blaming it on hormones. Maybe it's all because I'm an alcoholic. I get resentful for all the work involved for such little time together because we can't seem to get away from each other fast enough. We all spend so little actual time together that we have little to talk about when we are together. I hate the strain. I hate missing my mom and sister. I hate decorating the tree by myself. You'd think I'd get some satisfaction out of doing it for Nana and I do a bit, but it's like she knows her best Christmas's are behind her.

I'm whining and I know it. I thought maybe if I put it down here then maybe I could stop running it all in my head because my head isn't fixing my head right now. Well never. lol But I do have hope, hope that I'll get the Christmas magic back someday. I've been on the verge of tears all afternoon and after I just heard this great quote on tv I think if I go have a good cry then maybe I'll feel better.

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.
~Irving Washington

A LONG time...

I haven't blogged here for a year! WOW! I've wanted to, but there always seems there is something else to do or I really have something to say when I'm already in bed. But I decided I need to start this up again, this blogging about my recovery, because I forget. I forget where I was or what I've already come thru sometimes. Occasionally I find myself acting in ways that I thought I had left behind or in new ways that still aren't healthy. And then I find I've moved so far beyond something and I didn't have a clue that I had. So I'm back. This is totally for me and if anyone happens to stumble across this blog here and it helps them in any way then that will be a bonus. I have things to say. Maybe not profound things, but my story is my story. So we'll see where this year takes us. I just turned 4 years sober. WOW! WOW! WOW! Who woulda thunk? Certainly not me. And while the desire to drink rarely crosses my mind, my thinking still interrupts my progress. Well, not if you go by the mantra that "you're right where you're suppose to be". Gosh I hated hearing that my first year or so. But now I know it's true. I also know these behaviors come up again because some of them I will ALWAYS have to work on. I usually get a little freaky right before my sobriety birthday, but with my recent trip to California the freakiness started after the day. I've been in a rut. In a mood. In pain. Tonight I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down and told the one person that could help me work thru this crap, my sponsor. I started my 2nd full 4th step. I've done some spot ones on people as they came up but not a really thorough one. I did the first 2 columns and after the combination of that and talking to my sponsor and admitting that I wasn't fixing myself with my own head, well the weight began to lift. Why do I not ask for help when I so desperately need it? I honestly wasn't willing to admit that I needed it so badly because I just didn't know. So the ball is rolling. Let the healing begin.

3 Years

So today is my 3 year sobriety birthday!
I can't believe it has been that long.
I didn't know it was possible to not drink or use for that long.
I didn't know I would WANT to NOT drink or use for 1,095 days in a row.
I thought people who didn't drink and do drugs were stick in the mud's and usually I didn't want to be friends with you.
I thought people who talked about God were fanatics and needed to loosen up a bit in life.
I heard AA was a cult, exchanging one addiction for another.
I , obviously, thought a lot of things that weren't right.
I remember the 3 days leading up to my first day of sobriety.
I remember the first time I walked into an AA meeting back in August.
I remember that I wanted to do things my way. That I didn't NEED to get rid of ALL my friends, just the ones that sold drugs, not the ones that just used. They wouldn't use around me, right?
The next thing I know, skip to almost 3 months later, all dressed up as a witch at a Halloween party and my friend turns to me and says 'You aren't any fun now that you don't drink'.
Fuck it I said. I mean why not? The guy I had taken with me from the program started drinking while we were getting ready so my backup plan had already gone down the drain. I WAS the only one not drinking.
So fuck it, I said.
I'll drink then.
I ordered 2 glasses and wine.
Crappy box white wine.
Yuck!
And my next question was 'so if I'm going to drink then where is the cocaine'.
This proceeded to lead to a 3 hour chase which resulted in someone slicing their hand up and me calling everyone in my phone who might have one of my old dealers numbers. See, I had deleted those numbers back in August.
I was regretting that at the moment.
So the next day I just started drinking and popping xanax and, later that night, Oxycontin aka hippy heroin. I spent the night in and out of fitfull sleep and listening to my freind have sex with the guy I liked. She had sex the night before with they guy she was trying to set me up with. She pretty much had sex with anyone and everyone but that is a WHOLE different story. So the next day I finally make it home and spend Halloween night high off oxy's again. The first part of the day was a little fuzzy. But I didn't make any more efforts to drink or take any more drugs. I was difinitely done this time. I couldn't have freinds that did drugs. I couldn't hang with people drinking. At least for a while. I had to go to more meetings. I had to do things SOMEONE else's way. I thought if I was just strong but self-will wasn't enough. I had to stop worrrying about the future and try to start learning how to live in today. I had to start trusting God. Easier said than done right? But it happened. Slowly. Things were still hard. But little by little the wreckage of my past started falling away. And little by little I've finally started to learn to love myself.
Also those cliche sayings are really true.
It works if you work it.
Let Go and Let God
You know the ones.
Today, in this minute, I never want to go back.
But my disease is powerful.
It has shown up when I've least expected.
But, by the grace of God, I'm sober today.
And all we have is today.