Duck and Cover

Please, dear God no, not another mistake.

No one could make me want to run more than my Dad. He was a good man and always did his best raising us, but he scared the bejesus out of me. His mood was usually serious and he rarely smiled. He also had a way of belittling those around him when they made a mistake. The only thing that would usually rally him from his easy chair was the need to discipline or make a drink. The opportunity to make a smart ass or condescending comment was often the only words he was motivated to utter.

For a child growing up in my house, the result of a mistake was almost always harsh criticism, discipline or ridicule. It really didn’t matter whether it was a mistake made out of a misjudgment or out of happenstance. If something was broken, then you should have been doing...fill in the blank. If we woke Mom or Dad up from a nap, it didn’t matter how or why. I always felt I was walking a tightrope. So when my Dad’s little sissy boy fills up the lawn mower with water instead of gasoline (both in red cans I might add), it was not a pleasant experience. I remember a tool pouch and a coffee mug hitting the wall of the garage. Other kids certainly had it much worse, but that kind of stuff has always rocked this guys world.

So by the time I got kicked out of the house at six years old to go to first grade at a Catholic school, I was already conditioned to cower after making a mistake. My brother’s nature was to rebel and fight back but mine was to duck and cover. I just happened to get “Sister Mary Humilate-the-Little-Boy” for my first grade teacher. That did not go well. It began about 10 years of trying to be invisible in class. It always seemed to me that teachers and kids alike seemed to really get a kick out of teasing and embarrassing me when I would try to answer a question out loud in class.

These are the only two things I can think of that might have led to my extreme aversion to making mistakes. All my life I’ve thought that very disturbing feelings, self-flagellation and retreat were normal reactions to making mistakes. It has only been in the last few years that I have begun to be told otherwise, thanks to a great therapist and a wonderful spiritual advisor. My grandmother new it, I remember her often  yelling at my dad as he went for his belt, “He didn’t go to do it!”

There are so many negative consequences to this misconception of mine that mistakes aren’t a normal part of living and learning. The self-berating and fear make me so judgemental of myself and ultimately others. This fear drives my ego to demand more of myself and others than is fair. It sets unreasonable goals for myself and others to obtain. It makes me feel at times - so worthless and a failure. It is all a lie I tell myself.

Today, I choose to believe my therapist and my spiritual advisor. There is absolutely nothing wrong with making a “mistake”. When a misstep is made I just need to make note of it, without judgement, and take corrective action to do differently in the future. Go figure.

My thinking, though, is so slow to change. I need reminders of this often by people who love me, and I need to remind others and forgive their mistakes. Everyday that I do this, I get a little better.

There is no mistaking the gratitude I feel today toward my teachers.

Hold that thought...

James

Under the Lash

Under the lash of alcoholism and addiction, I have been forced to find a spirituality that I am becoming a little more comfortable with every day.

My sister and I both sought help from a 12 step program, she at a very young age and I in my mid-forties. She was somewhat connected with it for the rest of her life. She remained very troubled through the years. We didn't speak the last three years of my drinking and using. We were reconnected via my ninth step amends. In the process of the amend, she said she no longer attended meetings because she found the "God talk" unbearable. I had been struggling with the same thing from the first day in the program.

Six months later she committed suicide. My sponsored had already shared with me that he believed everyone treats their alcoholism one way or another. We either drink, do drugs, find a spiritual (or meaningful) life or commit suicide. Loosing my little sister came with a flood of thoughts and emotions, but her gift to me may have been a wake-up call. I needed to find out why other people's opinions and beliefs made me so crazy or it just may kill me. I had to uncover my part in the whole mess.

She and I had so many traits in common that seemed to be tied to my animosity toward religious people. Her death was the catalyst for an extensive inventory, fifth, sixth and seventh step for me. The prayers for help that emerged in the seventh step are now a part of my daily eleventh step. The process has been effective enough for me to still be comfortably attending meetings six years later. I am also able to share (outside of meetings) my experience with others who do not share the mainstream religious beliefs of most people in the deep South of the USA.

The way our founders crafted and set down the program has never made me uncomfortable, as they took great pains to design an all-inclusive spiritual path, defined only by the individual. But, many times as people take turns sharing their "experience" in the rooms it can sound like everyone is voting for the denomination or deity of their choice - intended or not. Damaged people like my sister and myself can feel unwelcome anywhere, on the fringes of society and possibly damned to hell for being who we are. So, as compelled as I can sometimes be to share my personal spiritual beliefs in a meeting, I try to bite my tongue and remember that someone's comfort in that room is more important that any ego-driven urge to do it.

If it wasn't for the book our program is based on, old-timers with sufficiently leveled egos and the help of an awesome sponsor, I would have fled by now. Of course it was only the lash of alcoholism that kept me around long enough to do the work required to get some relief from my fears.

Surely. I will meet some of you as I trudge the Road of Happy Destiny!

Hold that thought...
James

Children of Chaos

I wasn’t too long in recovery before someone brought Rule 62 to my attention. If you know me, you know why.

The term is from a book on the traditions of the program I belong to. It tells a story of a grandiose group of recovering alcoholics who dreamed up a grandiose plan. To execute the plan, they decided that 61 rules and regulations would be required. Well their plan did not come off like they hoped, and it sent the group spinning. After the dust settled, the head promoter of the plan proposed Rule 62: “Don’t take yourself too damn seriously.”

The book refers to us alcoholics as “Children of Chaos.” For me this term fits, and it meant that for many years I spent a great deal of time devising plans to manage and fix my life - to keep myself out of trouble. Managing chaos required a great deal of complex, serious and self-centered thought. It also made me crazy.

Sobriety and a new design for living has taken me out of harms way, but my mind still comes up with all these grandiose plans that require complex thought and planning on my part. My brain still thinks it needs to come up with a master plan that will make everything perfect.  Adrenaline pumps as I run countless scenarios, coming up with an endless list of rules for myself and others to follow.

It all sets me up for resentment and disappointment at myself and those around me. Overestimating my power and importance causes me to over-react when things go wrong because my ego is completely entwined in the situation. I take the “failure” personally and become overly angry and frustrated with myself and anyone else involved.

Before I complicate this concept any further, I will tell you that when I first came into the program I could not, as hard as I tried, understand what taking myself too seriously meant. I consider myself intelligent, but I found this impossible to really understand - kind of like Einstein’s theory of relativity. It sort of gave me a headache.

I am a gardener and this analogy helped me to finally picture what taking myself too seriously meant. I asked myself, “What would taking a garden too serious look like?” I thought, it could be ripping all the plants out because a worm ate one of them. It could be seeking retribution because someone stepped on one of my seedlings. It could be flogging myself for using the wrong fertilizer mix. It could be losing hours of sleep trying to come up with a way to manage how many blooms would open the next day. It could be coming up with 61 rules for myself and my friends to follow that would ensure a  picturesque and perfect garden.

Interesting... The other day,  I put a picture of my garden on Facebook so everyone could see how talented I am, and a friend responded with a compliment for God. A comment on his great work and artistry. On another day that really would have ticked me off.

See why I need you guys?

Hold that thought...

James

Today's the Big Day

They say we alcoholics and addicts that need a 12-step program have a daily reprieve from drugs and alcohol. One day of immunity only....ever. When I first got to the program, I thought that was truly the lamest guarantee that I had ever heard of. For Pete's sake, Walmart gives you 30 days.

A lady who had been sober for over 30 years, one day at a time, asked me just how many days of sobriety did I need at one time? What would I do with them?  How many days can I live at one time?

That helped me to begin to understand the idea that I didn't need more than a daily reprieve. So what do I do the next day to get another repeive? All I have to do is participate in my recovery, again for one day. Our literature calls it the maintenance of my spiritual condition. I do it by getting up in the morning and asking my higher power to keep me sober, I almost always either work with another alcoholic or addict or make a meeting; and I thank my Higher Power for keeping me sober at before I fall asleep. If I have had any troubles during the day I sometimes do a 10th Step. That's an average 24 hours of my program for me. Simple and easy most days.

Now is this everything the literature suggests I do? Absolutely not. Do other people do more? yes. Do other people do less? Have I done less? Have I done more? Yes, yes, yes.

Have I been kept sober up until today? Yes. Is my life continuing to expand, blossom and heal? Absofreekinlutely.

I was in so much fear of relapsing in the beginning, even though my actions were evidence that I was working very hard in recovery. I was making it the top priority in my life, but I was still in intense fear. I had been pulled from the fire and the thought of returning was terrifying. Since I was actively participating in the process, I am fairly sure I would have been kept sober without that degree of fear. It was part of my journey, though. I wonder if it was a requirement?  I am mostly free from that fear today.

I am so content with the gift of just one more day of this awesome new life. My days are ridiculously full. I can hardly remember what boredom is like. I have so much living to pack into this one day.

When days are hard and sad, when tragedy has graced my door, I have a full day to delve into the solution. There is so much help available to me each day that I could never tap it all. Writing , praying, meetings and a whole army of people just waiting to hug me, sit with me and share with me how they were kept sane and sober through similar situations. Too much, to many to pack into one day. That is bounty and it can only be had today.


Thank you all so much for today.


Hold that thought...
James

Showing My Assets

I have been told by some that I am not as bad as I make myself out to be. Granted, the people that usually say this to me are not in a 12-step program. Frankly, I do eat it up when they lavish praise on me.

One of the books we discuss a lot in recovery offers a perfect description of me which at first sounds very contradictory. It describes me as an egomaniac with an inferiority complex. I remember vividly the first time I ever read that statement, and I instantly identified.

At last, someone gets me. I take every backdoor approach I can think of to convince myself and everyone around me that I am a previously undiscovered jewel - long-overlooked and placed on this Earth to delight, entertain and enlighten, this day and for all to come. I fantasize that James will at last be widely recognized as the person whom everyone wants as a friend, the person everyone wants to marry and the person that attracts all to his feet to lap up each pearl of wisdom as it falls from his lips.

I do this out of fear - fear that my assets are lacking. Fear that they are not sufficient to provide what I require to survive this life. I fear that if I just list them outright, you will judge and condemn, you will spot the spin; and I will be labeled a phony, a self-deceived idiot and everyone will again laugh at me.

I can talk endlessly at meetings about myself, yet when the literature or my sponsor ask me to list my assets and the things I have done right along side my shortcomings, I start to sweat. That does not give me the opportunity to qualify each with an "if", a "but" or an "unless". It does not give me the opportunity to craft the presentation to appear and sound humble, tentative.

All these thoughts have come to me over the last 24 hours as, in the interest of balance, I considered a blog listing my assets - I have waxed on a bit already about my shortcomings.

Squirm, squirm

Okay, here goes, assets without crafted, qualifying spin.

squirm

I can be trusted.

I am funny.

squirm

I am a good writer.

I gossip little.

I routinely engage in self sacrificing service.

I am generous.

I am a good dancer.

I am a peace loving person.

I am dedicated and loyal.

I am passionate.

I am punctual.

I am artistic.

squirm

I am intelligent. (See I want to say relatively, but I won't.)

Oh, Baby Jesus that hurt. Dame Risa says, "Courage is the opposite of cozy."

I'm sure that if I continue to participate in the process of recovery the list will evolve. Some things may come off the list, others might be added. Based on the state of my spiritual condition, things on the list will come and go. More will be revealed. 

I am sure from time to time I will be able to count on my fellows to give me a good, swift kick in the assets whenever needed.

Okay, I am an above average writer, who desperately needs and editor and proofreader. Now, that felt good!

Hold that thought…

James

Unbalanced

In the rooms of recovery, I have often heard someone in the first year-or-so speaking of needing to find a balance between the time spent on their program and their "normal" life. My observation has been that these statements so often precede a relapse. I could be wrong, as I often am, but my reaction to my observation seems to have served me well. I consciously decided that the words "too many meetings" were not going to come out of my mouth. I decided to avoid the word "balance" altogether in early sobriety.

A knack for maintaining balance has never been in my portfolio of assets. I have some very good qualities, but that is definitely not one of them. Shoot, for the last few years of my drinking, to maintain any kind of balance, I had to lay on the floor! Seriously though, things have always been all or nothing, clinging or running, obsessing or avoiding. If something feels good, I want to do it until I am sick of it. I have historically been as good at managing the balance in my life as I was managing my drinking and using. Without help, self-seeking motives and justifications step in and color my judgement on how I need to achieve this balance. Things like, "You need fewer meetings and more time for yourself. More TV, yeah that's the ticket." This is the same kind of thinking that kept me miserably intoxicated for so long.

My program has a wrench for every nut. It is a spiritual program of action that will work in all my affairs, not just for my drinking. So, I was encouraged to just concentrate on making it my top priority and emerse myself as much as possible in it. One of the results of trying my best to do that, has been the development over time of constructive and healthy interests outside the program. Exercising or visiting friends or family are now on my radar. Today, I find it challenging to find the time to write and work with others. Slowly, good, healthy living is being introduced at a natural pace into my new life.

These developments are in no way a result of my managing, strategizing or planning. They are a result of unity, taking and practicing the 12 Steps of recovery and self-sacrificing service. Those things plus a healthy dose of prayer and meditation are transforming my life. All I have to do is show up and participate.

I would still describe my life as more out of balance than balanced, but the progress I am beginning to see is a wonderful gift. At first I was just really grateful that I could navigate my way through a room without falling. Now, I'm grateful that with help I am able to navigate through a life that is becoming a little richer and a little more varied every year.

Thanks for keeping me on my feet.

Hold that thought…

James

Big Bad Wolf

I make a really bad "Lone Wolf".

By the time I got sober, I was telling myself a lot of lies. One of the biggest of all was, "I don't need 'elfin' anybody." Now. I know I need you guys like the air I breath. My friends and family have truly become the chewy nougat in my Snickers bar. (Some of my friends, of course, the nuts.)

I think this lie of all the lies, was the one that almost killed me. It was the one that kept me from really seeking help for so long. I am fortunate that in the intervening time, I did not kill myself or someone else. There were half-assed attempts at seeking help for years. I sought help from three different priests, a spiritualist, meditation teachers, a psychiatrist and a couple of therapists. The psychiatrist fell asleep in our last session, woke up and called me Bob. My name is not Bob. The last therapist I saw probably saved my life because she told me that she would not treat me unless I attended a 12-step program.

I went to my first meeting that evening. I saw her for the first four years of my sobriety. She was interested in my program of recovery and I shared a lot about it with her. She thought it ironic that so much of the comfort and sanity that I was being given was being given to me through people. You see, I had made it clear to her from the get-go that people were a thorn in my side. They did not understand me, they did not appreciate me and worst of all they were ganging up on me. The dirty bastards! Co-existing with people had been increasingly unbearable. I had a rather large ball of contempt and anger in me. So, I agreed, it as very interesting and unexpected that my it was beginning to look like people would be at the core of my solution.

Years had gone by since I had really made any new friends. I had left a network of quality friends in another state, when I returned home to care for my mother. I was driving away the friends I had left. I remember thinking that if I wanted to hang on to the handful of friends I had left, I needed to avoid them, because whenever I spent time with them there was conflict and trouble. They had every reason in the world to back off from me. Of course, I could not see that then.

In working the Steps, I have been led through a process that has healed some of those relationships. It improved my relationship with my Dad, Sister and Grandmother before they died. But most importantly it is giving me quality relationships with new people in my life. By nature, I am a loner. Which would be okay if it didn't make me miserable. It just doesn't work for me.

I believe today that separation from my "pack" is poison for me. Recovery gives me a safe place and a structure that helps me stay connected with positive and loving people. (Considering they were the hardest party-ers out there, they are also a lot of fun.) Ask any of my good friends or family and they will tell you that I suck at staying in touch. So without the structure I find in recovery, I am fairly sure that I would once again gravitate away from people and towards alcohol and drugs.

As time goes by, I have found other tools that help a lone wolf like me to stay connected to folks. This blog is one of those tools. With a little time in sobriety, I have experienced times of connectedness and I have also gone through periods of emotional disconnection from my fellows. When I am feeling connected with my pack, I am loving you guys, I am content. When I throw up my walls and retreat, things get dark and I start getting restless, irritable and discontent.

Today, I'm loving you guys.

Hold that thought…

James