No Addiction without Lies, No Recovery without Honesty

Last week, we went to an AA meeting and because there was a newcomer in the room, the topic was the first step. I love first step meetings. They help keep everything fresh for me. Those of us who have been in recovery for a while need to be reminded where we came from and why we don’t want to go back there. It’s also an opportunity for us to offer our experience, strength, and hope to other alcoholics.

At the meeting, as we all shared our stories of what it was like, what happened, and what it’s like now, one of the themes that kept coming up was honesty and how important it is to a successful recovery. We’re told in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous that recovery “demands rigorous honesty,” which is a practice that is sorely lacking during active addiction.

Lying is a way of life for most addicts. It was for me. I lied about my drinking to try and minimize its severity. I lied to try and keep up appearances, to avoid rejection, and to tamp down my guilt and shame. But we don’t just lie to others, we also lie to ourselves. For a long time, I lied to myself about my alcoholism and my drunken behavior because it was a reality that was just too painful to face. Lying, just like drinking, was a coping mechanism that I used to be able to deal with my life. At the time, I just didn’t know any other way to cope.

Then, when the pain of drinking got to be worse than the pain of trying to change and get sober, I learned that I had to be rigorously honest if I wanted true recovery. And I did want recovery. However, I didn’t want to be rigorously honest, to myself or anyone else. I knew when I went to treatment for the first time in 2011 that I would have to talk about things that I didn’t want to if I wanted to get better. So, I did share a lot in my group and individual therapy sessions and my 12-step work. But looking back, I wasn’t rigorously honest. I spoke about the things that I wanted to and held back the rest. I was completely honest about the things I chose to share, but by not sharing those darker things, the things that caused the guilt and shame that I would drink over, I was really setting myself up for failure.

And, guess what? I did fail. I relapsed and went back to treatment at the end of 2012. I was finally ready to lay all my cards on the table and be honest about the things that I had still been keeping a secret. I poured everything out to my therapist and got the help that I needed to begin working through it. I think that was the real beginning of recovery for me. It was the time that I was “willing to go to any lengths” to get and stay sober, as the Big Book says.

It isn’t just while getting sober that rigorous honesty is important, it’s important in staying sober as well. It requires that we are honest in all our affairs – and that means things big and small. Lying, even small lies, can keep us trapped in old behaviors. Being truthful, to others and ourselves, helps us stay the path. That means being honest about thoughts and feelings even when it would be easier to lie.

In recovery, I sometimes find myself sidestepping the truth when it comes to talking about how I feel or what’s going on in my head. Especially when it’s something that I don’t even want to think about myself. I’m better about it than I used to be, but I’m definitely still a work in progress. Fortunately, my husband can read me like a book, and he’s good at getting me to talk about things honestly and openly. Being honest and open with him requires me to be honest and open with myself first. And that self-awareness helps keep me from spinning out, which I know can lead me back to drinking.

Without honesty, I know there is no recovery (or maybe only the white-knuckling, dry drunk type of recovery that is in no way fulfilling) for me. It isn’t always easy, but through rigorous honesty, I get to continue progressing in my recovery, and I’m trustworthy enough to help others with theirs. That is what true recovery is, and while rigorous honesty is just one part of it, it’s an important one.

So, the next time you’re about to tell a little white lie, or you’re denying the way you truly feel about something, to yourself or others, stop and think about it first. Consider the consequences. If you’re in recovery yourself, then you know how quickly lies can snowball. Is your little white lie worth the consequences? Is it worth putting your recovery at risk?

It isn’t for me.

I’m so glad that we went to that meeting last week, and that the discussion was about the first step and rigorous honesty. It was a reminder that I need to hear and think about over and over again. I’m going to keep on doing my best to stay self-aware, practice rigorous honesty with myself and others, and keep growing in my recovery.

Finding a New Recovery Community

People in recovery need a circle of friends who are also in recovery.

Our sweet little, red brick house in Alabama.

When I got sober in 2012, I learned that my sobriety depends on the people with whom I surround myself. I need to interact with other people in recovery to help me stay sober and active in my recovery. Fortunately, my husband, Austin, is a recovering alcoholic, the same as me, and we’re able to support one another in our recoveries, but we need more than just each other. We need a community, a circle of friends, in which we can find and offer support to other addicts. Recently, for the first time since I quit drinking, I had to think about finding a new recovery community to fit into – a daunting task for introverts like me.

Why I Need Friends Who Are in Recovery

There are several reasons why I need to be a part of a recovery community. Perhaps the most important is peer support. I know that when I surround myself with friends who are also in recovery, they can understand my struggles without me having to explain anything. The reverse is also true, if someone else is struggling with recovery, I get it, so I can empathize and offer support. That connection, the commonality that recovering addicts have, lends itself to creating the supportive environment we need to maintain sobriety. Without peer support, isolation can set in, and that’s a dangerous place for an addict to be. Isolation keeps us stuck in addiction cycles. When I relapsed last year, I wasn’t going to meetings and I wasn’t doing anything to work on my recovery. That allowed old behaviors to slip back in, and it resulted in me picking up. 

Studies have been done that show that people who are involved in recovery communities with peer support are less likely to relapse than those who aren’t. I know this to be true for me. When I stay involved, I stay sober. There’s accountability when I’m a part of a group that encourages me to talk about my issues before I end up on a slippery slope. I have friends who are counting on me to show up at meetings and get-togethers, and they will call or come looking for me if I don’t. Having something to lose (friends, social interactions, activities, etc.) makes it easier to stay motivated about sobriety and to keep my feet planted firmly in recovery.

Recovery groups are also helpful in increasing awareness about addiction and reducing the stigma that is still attached to it. Support groups like AA encourage people to be open about their recovery without the fear of being shamed or judged. Even timid people like me can feel comfortable sharing in recovery groups because it’s pretty likely that someone else in the group has experienced the same feelings or thoughts that I’m having. I don’t have to be fearful, embarrassed, or ashamed about what I’m going through, and I will probably get some good advice about how others have gotten through similar things.

Being involved in a recovery community allows me to help others, which is one of the main tenets of AA. In step 12, we are encouraged to “carry the message” to other alcoholics. It says:

“Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”

Helping others isn’t a one-way street, it’s beneficial for the helper too, because in recovery “we keep what we have by giving it away.” By helping others, it keeps it fresh for me, I can see the pain of early sobriety in newcomers, and that helps me stay sober. I can offer my experience, strength, and hope to them. These are messages that I often need to hear again myself. It’s a symbiotic relationship, in which we are helped by helping.

 A Cross-Country Move Meant Finding New Recovery Support

We made a big geographical move last May, from Tucson, Arizona to the small, rural town of Fayette, Alabama. Austin is from Alabama and he has family in nearby Birmingham, but I had only visited the South a few times before our move. In the early part of the year, Austin inherited some property in Fayette, and our dream of retiring to Alabama was fulfilled early. Austin, our son Benjamin, and I packed up, and made the 1,600-mile trek across the southern US, amid the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic.

Being new in a small town along with all the shut-downs due to COVID-19 made it challenging to get to know anyone, let alone people in recovery. In Fayette, there aren’t many AA meetings, just one each week on Tuesday evenings, and even that one wasn’t meeting until very recently. I came from Tucson, where there were hundreds of meetings every month, at all hours of the day and night. The Celebrate Recovery group was and still is, on hiatus until the virus is over – if it’s ever over.

Fortunately, God’s providence can be found everywhere – even in Alabama! By His grace, we found a wonderful and supportive group of people in recovery who recently started a Friday night get-together where we all share a meal, talk about recovery and Jesus, and support one another. It’s resulted in meaningful friendships that also exist outside of our weekly meeting, a sense of belonging, and a way to help each other with recovery. I’ve always felt that people in recovery bond quickly because of what we’ve been through. There’s a deep understanding of the pain and consequences of addiction and the challenge of getting sober that we all know, and that draws us toward one another naturally.

It’s still early days for me in our new home in the South, but I have found a circle of like-minded friends that continues to grow, and for that, I am so very grateful. I already feel like I fit in and that is such a blessing for an alcoholic like me.

Why Do Some Make It While Others Don’t?

It’s been a while! Life has been busy and this blog has suffered, but I’ll save the update on life for another post. I feel like I need to write about something else right now.

A couple of days ago, my husband and I went to a meeting. We met a friend of ours there because he had expressed that he wanted to stop drinking. These types of moments, where I truly get the opportunity to be one alcoholic helping another, are the moments that I live for. There are so many blessings in getting to share my own experience, strength, and hope–especially hope–with someone who is facing the same struggles I once did.

The meeting did not disappoint. Our friend got a 24-hour chip, tears were shed as he shared his desire to stop drinking, and others expressed their support and encouragement. It’s a beautiful thing when any newcomer makes it into the rooms, and it’s even more beautiful to see people who, when in active addiction, couldn’t be bothered by anyone else’s problems, jump in to help a fellow in need.  esh

That’s not the end of the story, though. While we were at the meeting (it’s not one we normally go to, so we knew a couple of people there, but not many) a man sitting to my right who was clearly distressed, was invited to speak by another member. I thought that perhaps he was going to share that he had relapsed and was back in the rooms now, he had that drawn, sad and guilty look about him.

But that’s not what he shared. When he spoke, his eyes filled with tears, he told the group about his daughter. She was also an alcoholic and had been to that very meeting with him the week before. He went on to tell us, voice shaking, that his daughter had died the night before and that following the meeting he had to go claim her body.

It was only when he said her name, that I realized I knew her. She had been a student at the college where I worked. I knew that she struggled with alcoholism, we had spoken about it a lot during her time there, and while she wanted to get sober for good, it seemed it was something she just couldn’t manage. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman, who had a lot of life in front of her, and now she was gone–due to alcoholism.

I was saddened, as was my husband as he knew her too. And that old familiar question, the one that pops up every time I hear about someone dying from addiction, came to mind. Why do some of us make it, while others of us don’t?

When I think back to my own early recovery, which had at least a hundred false starts, it makes me wonder what it was that finally clicked and has helped me stay sober for the past several years. What is it that made my last drunk my last drunk? I wanted to stop drinking for a long time, and I made many attempts that failed. Why was the last one the one that, so far, has stuck?

I can list off the things that I think have contributed to me staying sober like willingness, honesty, forgiveness, acceptance, asking for help, rehab and AA, God, having a sponsor, being vulnerable, and the list goes on. But I feel like I had those things (at least a lot of them) the first hundred times I tried to quit drinking. So, what was it that changed? Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the combination of all of those things on the list, maybe it’s all about timing, maybe it’s about being so tired and worn out that there just is no way to go on the way you have.

I really wish I did know the answer. If I did, I could share it with my friend the newcomer to make his path easier. And maybe I could have shared it with the young woman we lost to the disease. I would share it with everyone! Shout it from the rooftops! But, the truth is, I don’t know.

What I do know, is that you can’t give up. You have to keep fighting for sobriety and recovery until it finally sticks. You have to do the work. And it is work, and it is hard, and it doesn’t end. You have to keep doing it to keep the new life you have in recovery. That I know. That’s what I have to do to stay sober. And while it has gotten easier, I don’t let my guard down, not ever.

The meeting that day had so much hope and so much sadness–at the same time. I was so encouraged that the young woman’s father was there, at a meeting, less than 24 hours after losing his daughter. He was showing everyone there, including our friend who is just starting out, that you can make it through really tough times without drinking. I was also encouraged by the way that other members reached out to our friend with their own experience, strength, and hope. I know that he was touched.

I’m still left wondering why some of us make it and some of us don’t. Maybe I’ll never know the answer. But I will keep sharing, keep working, and keep having hope. And if that helps even one person, then it will be more than worth it.

Recovering, or Recovered? Which am I?

It’s been nearly four years since I took my last drink of alcohol, and since that time I have been to literally hundreds of Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. It’s customary to introduce yourself before you speak at a meeting. I always say, “Hi, I’m Jami and I’m an alcoholic.” Some people introduce themselves differently, but it’s usually something close to that. A handful of times over the years, I have heard people refer to themselves as a “recovered alcoholic,” and my first thought is usually that they just don’t get it – no matter how long they have been sober. I’m probably wrong about that in some cases, they may very well stay sober and happy until the day they die. I know that people practice recovery differently, and that what works for me doesn’t necessarily work for everyone. Even my husband and I have a different way of approaching the program, and we’re both still sober.

The problem that I have with using recovered instead of recovering is that it makes it Unending Roadsound final, like it’s done and over and can no longer affect me – like the chicken pox: I had it once, I recovered, and I’ll never get it again. It implies that you can be returned to the person you were before, and for me, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You see, being a recovering person instead of recovered one, hasn’t returned me to who I was before alcoholism, and it isn’t something that has ended and no longer affects me. It is something that goes on. Forever. I will always be in recovery, and I’m good with that, for several reasons.

One, I know that I am not cured of alcoholism. I’ve been given a daily reprieve and I have to remain diligent to not return to where I was when I was drinking actively. I know that if I grow complacent, and think that I am recovered and that alcohol no longer poses a risk to me, I’m in danger. While I no longer worry day-to-day that I am going to relapse, I am very aware that booze is still out there and that if I have even one drink it’s game on. Recovering, rather than recovered, keeps me on my toes.

Two, recovering means that I am a work in progress and that I have the luxury of continuing to work on myself, strengthening those things about me that are positive, and improving the things that challenge me. Believing that I am still recovering fosters my desire for self-awareness. It keeps me engaged in becoming a better person, not just a sober one.

Three, recovering rather than recovered keeps me right-sized. As long as I remember that I am not over this alcoholism thing, and that I am no better or worse than every newcomer and old-timer, I don’t run the risk of self-righteousness or self-loathing. Those are two things that plagued me when I was drinking and recovering keeps me away from them.

Lastly, recovering rather than recovered reminds me that I don’t have all of the answers. I still need help no matter how many days I put between me and my last drink. It’s what makes it more comfortable than it used to be to ask for help when I need it. It’s why I have a sponsor and go to meetings. It’s what makes me part of a huge fellowship of strong and courageous people.

I think, what it boils down to is that recovering, instead of recovered, is what works for me. It may just be semantics, but it puts me in the right mindset to continue on the path of sobriety and recovery. I find joy and strength and health in the process of recovering.

So, I think I’ll stay right here recovering. Forever, God willing.

Surrender to Win

There is a paradox in Alcoholics Anonymous that tells us that we must “surrender to win.” When I first entered AA, I thought that it seemed kind of crazy that I would have to surrender, or give up, in order to get better. Wasn’t that was I was already doingSurrender? I sure felt like I had given up. Everything. That was where drinking had gotten me to. Like lots of things in AA though, surrendering to win started to make sense once I started to practice it.

It was when I was working my first step, looking back on all of the things that I had said and done while drinking, the things that showed (rather obviously) that I was powerless over alcohol and that my life had become unmanageable, that I caught my first glimpses of what surrender might look like for me. I finally was able to see that what I was doing wasn’t working and that I had to find another way to do things, or I was likely going to die. I had to throw in the towel, or it was going to be thrown in for me. I had to surrender. I had to stop fighting, hiding, and resisting because I knew that I could not win or succeed doing it my way.

I had to surrender to the fact that I was an alcoholic. I could no longer hang onto the idea that maybe there was something I could do to manage my drinking, or that maybe, if I just quit for a while, that I could go back to being a normal drinker one day. I had to surrender to the fact that I was different from normies, and that I would never be able to be one.

I had to surrender to the fact that I couldn’t stay sober alone. I had tried so many times, yet I always failed. Sure, I could make it a day or two without drinking…maybe even three. But anything could and did send me right back to the bottle and I picked up right where I left off. Even when I didn’t want to! That’s the craziness of alcoholism, I didn’t want to drink anymore, but I couldn’t stop. I had to surrender to the idea that I needed help to get sober, and that I would find that help in God and in other alcoholics.

I had to surrender to the program. I know that there are people who get sober without a 12 step program, but AA is what saved my life. So I had to stop resisting working the steps, and stop resisting taking suggestions, and stop resisting living the principles of AA to change my life. This was big for me because I wanted to think that I was different from others in the program – clearly, none of those people had the problems and traumas that I had. Ha! It’s actually funny to think about now…because every alcoholic that I meet thought that way at one time.

I had to surrender to the idea that there was hope for me. Before I got into the rooms, I had thoughts that the way my life was (a great big effing mess), was just the way it was going to be until I died. I was stuck. My life was hopeless and I was irredeemable. In order for me to surrender to all of those other things, I had to believe that there was hope. For me. For my future. Thank God I saw hope in the faces of my fellow alcoholics at every meeting I went to. That hope is what encouraged me to grasp hold of my recovery and hang on.

So, “surrender to win?” Yeah, I get it now. And I am thankful for it every day.

 

 

 

 

Alcohol Awareness Month

It’s April and that means it’s Alcohol Awareness Month. Every year the National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence sponsors this month to increase public awareness, NCADD_Alcohol_Awareness_Month_Logoreduce stigma, and encourage people to focus on alcoholism and alcohol-related issues. And each year for the last three, I have spoken about alcoholism awareness at the college where I worked. Since I no longer work there, I thought I would blog about it instead.

This year’s theme is “Talk Early, Talk Often: Parents Can Make a Difference in Teen Alcohol Use.” The goal is to get parents talking to their kids about alcohol use and open the lines of communication about alcoholism and its consequences. The bigger picture is aimed at everyone – those of us who are alcoholics, anyone who has been affected by alcoholism, and even those who have not and who know nothing about it – so that we can reduce the stigma attached to alcoholism.

The only way to reduce stigma is to get the information out there, and for those of us who have one, to tell our story. It isn’t always easy, there are still those people out there who think that all alcoholics are deadbeats and losers who drink cheap liquor from a bottle in a brown paper sack. I wrote once about a time that one of my supervisors cautioned me to stay quiet about my addiction. I didn’t. I told my story and I had a wonderful, positive response. But, I can’t help but think that if I had let my boss have her way, that wouldn’t have happened, and I would’ve felt ashamed and less-than for being an alcoholic. It is through the telling of our stories that we are able to help others. The stories that I  hear from other alcoholics is what helps me, and I hope that I help others by sharing mine.

If you want more information about Alcohol Awareness Month you can get it here.

If you or a loved one suffers from alcoholism and you are looking for treatment facilities you can look at ConsumerAffairs’ Drug and Alcohol Rehab Guide.

If you would like to find a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous in your area you can find one here.

 

 

 

 

Promises, Promises

The 9th Step Promises of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous say:

If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.

Are these extravagant promises? We think not. They are being fulfilled among us – sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. They will always materialize if we work for them.

(The Big Book, pp. 83-84).

We read these promises at the end of every meeting of my home group, and I have always loved it when the chairperson asks me to be the one who reads them. Even in my earliest days of sobriety, it was the Promises that gave me hope. You see, I wanted those promises for me and my life, although much of the time I never thought I could be so fortunate. I could see the evidence of the Promises in other alcoholics’ lives, they were happy, emotionally and spiritually fit, they could pay their bills on time, and they had healthy relationships. It didn’t bother them to talk about their pasts, and they weren’t wallowing in them either. They spoke about their drinking days in the context of, “you have to feel the bad times, to appreciate the good ones.” That was new to me, and in those first couple of years of sobriety, I didn’t think that I would ever be able to feel that way about my past.

Guess what happened though? Somewhere along the way, as I worked the steps – struggling through the hard days, and grateful for the good ones – the Promises started coming true for me. I have found a new freedom and a new happiness. Neither of those things came easily though. Freedom from drinking as a way to cope is never easy for an alcoholic. In fact, I think it’s a miracle when any alcoholic can go any length of time without a drink. I really do. But I also think that every minute, hour, day, and year that I stay sober I am free of my old way of coping, and that freedom feels good. What I have learned about happiness is that you can have it if you choose to. I have been through some pretty rough times in sobriety, some times that were even worse than the hell I went through when I was actively drinking, but I notice now that often I am able to choose happiness even then, even in those moments that used to baffle me.

There are still things about my past that I regret. What I find though is that I no longer wish to shut the door on it. I am able to talk and think about my past without guilt and shame (at least on most days), and sharing my past might help someone else. That’s what it has become for me – a way to help others in the same way that I have been helped. How can I be ashamed of that?

Self-pity used to be where I hung out most of the time. The Promises say that it will disappear, and I will say that I can see now that it is true. I’m not saying that I never fall back into that way of thinking, I do. However, I spend a whole lot less time there, and I bounce back faster when I do start to feel it. That too, is a miracle.

“Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us.” Wow, I never thought that I would experience that, but I have. I’m not saying that I don’t worry anymore about what people are going to think, or that I am suddenly financially secure. What I am saying is that I have learned that I don’t have to be afraid of either of those things. What other people think is none of my business, and I no longer feel the need to try to live up to whatever it is I think they want from me. And even though I haven’t won the lottery, and I’m not independently wealthy, when financial challenges come up, I don’t stress as much. I know that things will be okayAll things are possible. I just know.

Knowing that things will be okay comes from the realization that “God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.” That’s it, plain and simple. God is at work, and I am not trying to run His show. Admittedly, there are times that I still try to take over…ok, there are still a lot of times that I try to take over, but when I am able to let go and hand it over to God, amazing things happen.

To the newcomer I say, be patient with your recovery. Believe that the Promises do come true. To the old-timers I say, thank you for helping me to believe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sober, Not Perfect

ugh2

Have you ever done something that you knew would have negative consequences and then instantly regretted it? Recently, I did that. I used to do that a lot – when I was drinking. Admittedly, the regret usually came later then, not right away. This time though, I wasn’t drinking, I had my wits about me, and I still did it. What’s worse is, I did it out of anger.

Ugh.

We’re not supposed to behave that way once we get sober, right? I mean, I’ve been sober for over three years, I’ve worked the steps many times over, I have a sponsor who I talk to all the time, I do the maintenance steps (10-12) every day…I have really changed the way I live. And yet, I really screwed up and impacted other people’s lives, and I may have lost one of the closest friendships I have.

I’ve been doing a bit of wallowing about this whole thing for the last few days, self-loathing and self-pity joining me in the mire. It hasn’t really been a very good time, and I’ve been wondering what I should do. The thing is, I know what to do. It’s just hard doing it. I have to make amends, sooner rather than later. I will. It may not save the friendship that I cherish so much, but I have to clean up my side of the street.

This whole situation has taught me a few things – or maybe it’s just reminded me of a few things. One, reacting out of anger is not the way to go. Often times, my first inclination is to lash out when I’m hurt or scared. Over the years though, and through working the program, I’ve learned that I shouldn’t act on my first inclination. It’s that “first thought wrong,” thing that I’ve learned in AA. The second thing is that even though I am sober, with a good program and lots of support and wisdom from those around me, I am still going to screw up sometimes. I’m human, and that’s what humans do. Which brings me to the third thing: what I do now is what matters. Taking responsibility and trying to repair what I’ve broken is what I have to do. I could leave this whole thing alone, wait for it to fade away into the past, but the guilt I have over it wouldn’t go away, and a place of guilt is a dangerous place for me to hang out in.

So this weekend, I will put on my big girl panties and try to make things right. We’ll see what happens.

Expect Less, Accept More

The last week and a half has gone nothing like I had planned. I had meetings scheduled, some training for a group that I am a part of, and a new art class that I am attending. I had plans to be busy, but busy with the things I love to do…the things that feed my soul. My calendar app on my phone was looking pretty full, and I liked it.

Enter the flu (or something very much like it).

My house quickly became an infirmary. My stepson got very sick and missed a whole week of school, somewhere along day 4 or 5 of his coughing, hacking, feverish yuckiness, I got it. So for at least a week and a half, all the plans I had (read: all the expectations I had) were kaput.Expectations

It’s when I start having expectations that I get into trouble. There’s a saying in AA: “an expectation is a premeditated resentment.” It’s so true! When all of my plans had to be changed because we were sick and contagious, I started to get resentful. I knew that it wasn’t anyone’s fault that we were sick and plans had to be changed, but I was irritated, nonetheless. I had plans, dammit! And now things were not turning out like I had expected.

I stayed grumpy and irritated for a couple of days, and then I realized what was happening – sometimes I’m a little bit slow to come around. It wasn’t only the flu that was making me grouchy, it was that things hadn’t gone the way I wanted them to. My expectations were challenged and I didn’t like it.

The only way that I have found to combat having expectations is to do my best to live in acceptance. When things don’t go my way, the faster I accept that they are what they are, the quicker I can let go of my expectations and have some peace. Of course, I know that the real answer is to be mindful and not have expectations in the first place, but alas, I am a work in progress.

So, everyone is well now, and things are back to normal. Meetings were rescheduled, and cancelled plans are set to be made up. In the grand scheme of things, this was just a little bump in the road. The thing to remember is that it is always up to me whether or not I let the little bumps derail me, or just slow me down a little.

 

 

 

Finding My Serenity

I just saw that it has been four months since I have posted here! I can’t believe it. I don’t have any excuses, nor have I decided to stop blogging. I guess life just gets in the way sometimes. It was a busy, but good, holiday season — one of the best that I have had in a long time. It wasn’t until a few weeks after Christmas that I suffered a setback. I had a miscarriage. It was sad and awful and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

The good news is that I learned a lot from it, and throughout the whole ordeal (and it was an ordeal) I didn’t want to pick up a drink at all. Not once. What a blessing. When I think back to four years ago, I know that the situation would’ve sent me right back to the bottle, and quickly. I would have maSerenityde an emotionally messy time even messier, and who know where I would’ve ended up. Not this time though. I had lots of support from family and friends, and I am thankful for that. But I think that what helped me most were some of the things I have learned in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Here are some of the things that helped me get through a tough time:

  • Step 2 – Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity. Believing that God (my Higher Power) could restore me to sanity during and after my miscarriage was comforting to me. It meant that I didn’t have to try to do it all by myself. The beauty of Step 2 is that we have someone — someone with far more power than we have — in our corner, to support us, and to take care of things that we can’t.
  • Step 3 – Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood him. This step is a go-to step for me every single day. It is not always easy to turn my will over to God, I am prone to take it back…repeatedly. When I do actually turn something over to God though, and I let go of it for good, it is like a weight being lifted off of my shoulders. I had to practice this with my miscarriage. I knew that God’s will isn’t always going to match mine, and that the sooner I let go of the pain, handing it over to God, I would have some peace about the situation.
  • Acceptance – “And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation — some fact of my life — unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.”  This quote from Dr. Paul’s story, Acceptance is the Answer, in the Big Book of AA, is a lifesaver for me. What it says to me is that when I’m upset about something that I cannot change, I have to change my perspective about that thing. When my perspective changes, I am able to move into acceptance…and that brings serenity. I had to accept that my expectation of having a healthy pregnancy that resulted in a healthy baby wasn’t going to happen. Changing my perspective from, “Why is this happening to me?” to “I guess this pregnancy wasn’t meant to happen right now” helped me to deal with the sadness and disappointment.
  • The Serenity Prayer – God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference. These three lines that we recite during every AA meeting really kind of say it all. We need to change what we can, accept what we can’t and be able to recognize the difference. If we do that, there is no situation that we can’t make it through — including losing a baby.
  • Step 11 – Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him. I love this step because it is always my goal to strengthen my relationship with God. I pray often, whether things are going well or I am circling the drain, and when I do, I immediately feel closer to God, no matter what outcomes come to pass. When something difficult arises, like my miscarriage, prayer and conscious contact with God comforting to me.

The AA program is so much more than just a way to quit drinking. I have been sober for over 3 years now, and the meaning and the application of the steps and suggestions of AA continue to evolve as I do. It’s a program that not only saved my life, but taught me how to live it — and how to find my serenity.