In Good Company

I have the ability to feel lonely in spite of the fact that my life is so full of wonderful people.

I am single and have been that way for many years. The last couple of years of my drinking I had cut myself off from other people to a great degree. I had good reason to feel alone. I had a few friends left, but I had to limit contact with them for fear of alienating them with my attitude and my endless issues and dramas.

The difference today is that I am surrounded by a group of people that are so much like me. Most of us are learning how to reintroduce people and relationships back into our lives. For me the process is slow.

Last night I had dinner and a long visit with two fairly new friends. This weekend, I have plans to have dinner with an old friend and spend a good bit of time with my fellows in and out of meetings. Really, all I have to do is stop turning down invites and show up where my peeps gather. Easier said than done for this loner.

It has been a sustained effort on my part to stay connected to folks. In recovery, people come and people go. We are a dynamic little tribe. Sometimes my little social scene is jumping and sometimes the phone seems to go quiet. When the phone goes quiet, if I do not make an effort to reach out fairly soon, I find myself slipping into loneliness.

I don’t feel lonely this morning. I am in good company. I’m just glad you guys put up with me and my stuff.

Hold that thought...
James

First, I Fail

The failure to handle difficulties on my own has led to many good things in recovery. My faith grows stronger every year in the process of surrender, reaching out for help and then taking action that has worked for me in the past.

One of the books in my program of recovery talks about the Steps leading to a faith that works. For me, faith is born out of action and results. When I take action and it works, then I have true faith in the power of that action. That is one of the blessings of having a little time under my belt in recovery. I have the knowledge of what has helped me in the past and the faith that if I return to it again, it will once again work.

The last couple of months have been a particularly challenging time in my sobriety. Experience kept telling me to return to things that had worked for me before. After sitting down with my sponsor and discussing this, I realized one of my options was to return to the therapist that was instrumental in getting me into recovery and helping me in my first four years.

Of course my mind says, “Oh, it will take weeks to get in to see her.” I called anyway and they had a cancellation yesterday afternoon. It seems that it was meant to be. I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life. What a wonderful feeling to walk out of there with a list of actions to take that will help me get through this difficult time.

Sometimes I feel like the luckiest guy in the world to be in recovery, with so many resources at my fingertips. It is a foundation of support that helps me get through good and bad times, sane and sober. All I have to do is reach out. All I have to do is ask. All I have to do is take some action. But, first I have to fail. I have to fail at handling it all by myself, in my own head. Surrender - the first step.

Hold that thought...
James

A Confession

While I did not Tweet a wiener on Twitter, I am a lesbian blogger in Damascus.

I am actually a young girl from Syria and have been posing as an aging, neurotic gay blogger-dude in the United States to draw attention to the plight of self-obsessed, effeminate recovering alcoholics in the West.

I chose the Southern U.S. because religious extremist have a particular foothold in the area, often attempting to control the government. Many gay drunkies and junkies are forced to live a double life, shielding their activities from authorities. I have only tried to illuminate the journey of these often marginalize men for a global audience.

While the narrative voice may have been fictional, the facts on this blog are true and not misleading as to the situation on the ground. This experience has, sadly, only confirmed my feelings regarding the often skewed media coverage in the United States and the pervasiveness of new forms of conservative nationalism. However, I have been deeply touched by the reactions of readers.

Nahhh, only kidding. But, I did have three Snickers and four packages of Peanut M&Ms yesterday. That’s the bad news. The good news is I did go to the gym this morning and I haven’t drank.

Hold that thought...

James

A Hangover of Sorts

Well, that didn’t make me feel any better.

I was just sure that those five pieces of fried chicken, a pint of Blue Bell ice cream and 100 minutes of Ashton Kutcher would do the trick. Once again, I was so wrong. That is the way my best thinking tells me to survive an evening of self-created insanity.

I guess, in a way, it worked as I did survive the night. Although, I woke this morning with a hangover of sorts. I did not want to go to the gym, nor did I want to write this blog. My thoughts were that the gym was an act of futility, doing me absolutely no good. My mind says, “For God’s sake man, let yourself go like everyone else. Embrace the Buddha belly, let your ear hairs grow - you are fifty freakin’ years old!” 

I came very close to logging on this morning and posting a blog saying I was going on hiatus. I just keep thinking that I am tired of hearing myself and reading myself. Blah, Blah, Blah.

My program tells me to get my whiny ass off the couch, get to the gym and then to the keyboard. So, that is what I did. It also tells me to try to eat better today and go see my sponsor tonight. I also suspect I may be back to the 2nd Step again. That is traditionally where I need to go back to when I start getting discouraged about the future of my mental state. I also usually need to get back to the basics of what has worked for me before - things like picking up a new sponsee, doing something that creates a little spiritual excitement or making that amend I have been putting off.

It is alcoholic thinking like this that makes some folks in recovery say that their mind has a contract out on their ass. It’s this kind of thinking that, left unchecked, can lead someone like me to say, “I might as well have a beer with that fried chicken.”

I am just thankful that this morning my hangover is from, animal fat, sugar and self-pity rather than the hooch.

Hold that thought...

James

Alone with Self

It seems I have a lot of symptoms that indicate I suffer from a preoccupation with self. Hey, I may not be much but I’m all I think about.

I was reading about homeopathic remedies, and I ran across an article about the treatment of those suffering inner loneliness resulting from being too centered on self. It said that this preoccupation with self causes a failure to connect or stay connected with others. It went on to say that the condition is accompanied by the urge to talk about oneself and the need for constant attention and care.

Talk about oneself? Who me? Of course, I am a tad better than I used to be. This is a quote from the article: “There is great inner urging to share through words; talkativeness is an important characteristic... Inner pressure of loneliness and self-related worry needs to be expressed; the craving for attention and sympathy needs to be stilled.” I can definitely see that in myself and many folks in recovery, especially newcomers.

It even goes on to say that when these self-centered people can not get the kind of attention and care they seek through words they will resort to such things as feigning sickness. As a recovering hypochondriac, I find this interesting.

Just like in the meeting I was in last night where the topic was self-centeredness, this remedy suggested opening the mind to the needs of others. Again I see that common thread that runs throughout the suggestions of philosophers, healers and teachers across the years and throughout the world.

I left the meeting last night thinking about the connection between self-centeredness and loneliness because a friend shared that he found them to be bound tightly together. Now I see this same connection made in this article on homeopathy.

Since loneliness is definitely something I suffer from occasionally, I will continue to live the Steps the best I can, hoping that my self-centeredness is reduced and my connection to others may grow - one day at a time.

Hold that thought...

James

Saint Kirstie Help Us

As I reached another personal best at the gym this morning, it really made me think about how this process has been so much like the process required to keep me from drinking.

Surrender had to come before I could overcome the resistance to, and the fear of walking into the gym for the first time. For me that happened on December 23, 2009 with a giant jar of homemade peanut brittle. Nearing the bottom of that jar, with peanut brittle caked in my teeth and grease on the roof of my mouth, I picked up the phone and called the fitness center. That was not an easy step for me. Gyms and I had been on bad terms ever since elementary school.

As I started working out, I realized that I was experiencing a real fear that I was going to keel over and have a heart attack or at least look like an idiot. But I kept going back and gradually built the faith that even though discomfort was part of the process, it was most likely not going to kill me.

Continuing to go on a regular basis was extremely hard for me and I fell short many times, and I am sure I will again. Maintaining the willingness to talk about it to others and pray for help has been indispensable for me. Many of my Facebook friends have had to read along with my struggles with getting back to the gym. It seems to help me to post when I am and when I’m not going. Not sure why - maybe accountability? Praying to St. Kirstie Alley, patron saint of the eternally struggling, aging pudgies may have been the saving grace, not sure.

The value of perseverance is something I have learned in recovery. With exercise, it has been the key. Not necessarily the perseverance to never miss a day, or a week or even a month, but the perseverance to keep going back, no matter what.

It has been almost a year and half since I started doing this thing. That is not a long time relative to many other folk, but for me it is amazing. I hate to sweat, I am a pansy and I am 50 freaking years old. I guess it is never to late to teach an aging, over-eating, quitting-smoking, alcoholic, neurotic, sissy dog new tricks.

I sure feel better.

Hold that thought...

James

Regret Not

There have been a few wise people in my past who have encouraged me to do things, if for no other reason than, to protect me from future regret.

More than a few times, I have done “the right thing” and the results did not seem fair or favorable. Sometimes the reward for doing the right thing is getting something warm and fuzzy in return, but sometimes it just protects me from regret.

Facing the decision of whether to jump on a plane and be with a loved one that is ill or not, the advice I have gotten has been to do thing what will not place me in danger of future regret. For me that has been to go when in doubt. I have never regretted a trip and at times the rewards were priceless and if I had not gone on the regrets would have been acute.

When my aunt came to help me, my dad and my mom when my mom was dying, one of the first things she said was that we needed to get through what lied ahead without my dad and I having any regrets. So, we went to great lengths to discuss and discuss each decision and made every effort to include everyone appropriate in the decision-making process. Even though we may have made some things a little harder than they had to be, if nothing else it was all protection from regret - the ‘gift that just keeps on giving’. The end result of good effort is not always a happy ending. My mom still died and it was very hard on all involved, but we live regret-free.

Do I go on that date or not? If I do, it could result in a something warm and fuzzy or it may be a dud. If I go, I don’t have to eternally wonder what I may have cheated myself or someone else out of.

I am sure today that doing the right thing is only just about getting obviously good results, but it also places me in the right place at the right time to live free and clear of guilt, doubts and regrets.

Hold that thought...

James

To Thine Own Self

I recently read a quote miss-attributed to Kurt Cobain that originally came from André Gide, a French author and winner of the Nobel Prize in literature in 1947. The quote is “It is better to be hated for who I am than loved for who I am not.”

This idea seems to go hand-in-hand with the quote that appears on the silver chips given out in some meetings - “To thine own self be true.” I am not sure about Kurt Cobain’s connection with the first quote, but there is a significance to it in my book - Kurt’s journey ended in a drug overdose. 

I am on a journey to discover the true nature of who I am. I need to uncover and make peace with my virtues as well as my shortcomings regardless of how they are judged by my fellows. Only then will I be able to live comfortably in my own skin. I am hoping that as I draw closer to this goal, I will find it easier to love others. I want to become more honest and giving. I want to tear down the barriers I have built up between myself and others, between myself and the joy of living and between myself and a higher power.

I don’t have to understand why it is so important that I find the truth about myself, make peace with it and make spiritual progress. The stories of others that have gone before me assure me it is so.

I have made a mere beginning. I would still rather be loved for who I am not, than hated for who I am.

Hold that thought...

James

Endlessly at Odds

I always fancied myself a ‘social activist’. Cocktail in hand, I would rant and rave with no one to listen. When campaign season came around, I found it easier to justify bombarding friends and family with my unsolicited opinions. In fact, I fancied it as my duty. It has caused me trouble.

My tendency in life has been to blame everyone else for my woes. I have always found myself in the minority. Growing up and living in the South as a not-so-christian, gay, liberal does not and will not ever place me in the mainstream. It never got me into a fraternity or the Junior League. It has given me plenty of fodder over which to feel victimized. It has given me an excuse to feel disenfranchised and apart-from; a reason to blame others for my shortcomings and missed opportunities in life. 

The reason that I know today that my opinions are not just sound, social judgements is that they are inflamed, disturbing and serenity-sucking. They can make me feel outnumbered and discouraged. My ego and fears are so interwoven that it is difficult for me to listen to someone who is on the other side of the fence without feeling threatened and angry. This is not sound nor sane.

This is one of the areas I have had to inventory. I had to find my part in these feelings of anger and fear. The fact is,  I tend to focus on the differences between myself and others. I, more frequently than not, shy away from groups and people who might have received me with open arms. I balk at being a brother among brothers and a worker among workers. I have insisted on being either better-than or less-than. I am the one who has placed myself endlessly at odds with my fellows.

I am the one who gives the people around me the power to hurt me. If I truly found my peace and happiness in the spiritual realm, I would not find those around me so threatening. The entire world could ‘go to hell in a handbasket’ and the Master would just see that as an opportunity to help others. But me - I still find my security and rewards in your approval rather than in service to those around me.

Discovering these kind of things in an inventory is just the first step towards their correction. At least I now know the problem is mine and not ‘yours’. That means I can change it with the help of a higher power.

It’s already gotten better.

Hold that thought...

James

Wearing Thin

It’s getting hot. My patience is wearing thin. When I am asked these days how I am doing, my thought is “Okay, until I am not okay.” Okay until I drop a pen or a car chooses to travel in my lane. Okay, until someone annoys me.

I am not always this on edge, but lately I have been. The last couple of days I picked back up a book I had been reading. It is called “Buddha is as Buddha Does”. I had left off at the Third Paramita - Patience. When I open myself up, the Universe provides just what I need. I am reading and re-reading. I have been trying to put into use some of the techniques the book suggests.

The first kind of patience the book suggests is what we in the program call “restraint of tongue and pen”. This author calls it the “Sacred Pause”.  But, like line in recovery, the book says we must do more. He talks about what we call finding our part in the situation, specifically he suggests we accept that our lack of patience is the problem, not the situation at hand. He suggests that I then ask myself “Who is this person?”, “How can I identify with him or her?” and last of all “Why is he or she deserving of my patience?”

Oh, one last thing - the action part. I always hate this part. “Decide on - and commit to - at least one specific step I can take toward this person to demonstrate my active patience.” This sounds suspiciously like “amending” my behavior. Sometimes I really hate being a grown up.

Hold that thought...

James

My Reminders

The search for happiness is one of the chief sources of unhappiness.  ~Eric Hoffer, The Passionate State of Mind, 1954

This quote has been rolling around in my head for about three days. It seems to be rooted in Eastern teaching, but it also runs parallel with what I am taught in recovery. I am being taught that the search for a power greater than myself and service to others is where my efforts should be spent and that happiness can be a by-product of those efforts.

I get unhappy and try to think my way out of it. I try to eat my way out of it. I try to buy my way out of it. I have even started trying to exercise my way out of it. I go to a lot of meetings to try to escape discontentment. I call people up to see if they can make me happy. Eventually I get really tired, fat, broke and discouraged.

I was discussing Step Five with some folks yesterday and was again pondering the connection between God and my fellows in recovery. I reflected back on my meeting with my sponsor the day before and thought about what he shared with me after I told him how I had fallen short of effective with a sponsee.

As usual, he talked about God. 

Just like with my trying to control and eventually trying to stop drinking, I try and try on my own steam to conjure, manipulate, wrest, tweak, twist, force, and maneuver my way out of every jam I get myself into. It is only after repeated failure do I go to anyone for any kind of guidance. In recovery, the people always point me towards a spiritual solution.

So, again, I find myself digging out and dusting off my spiritual materials. I read, yesterday, the teachings of a spiritual leader that I respect and was immediately lifted out of my self pity and discontentment. It continues to baffle me how I can again and again forget what the entire point of my program is. Maybe I just need to get a big tattoo on my forehead (written backwards of course for the mirror) that says, “Seek spiritually when experiencing any discomfort.”

Somehow self-seeking always starts seeming like the answer to all my problems, again. That is why I mustn’t stray too far from my reminders. You know who you are. Thanks.

Hold that thought...

James