Sitting there today with my sponsor (she tolerates me) in the break room, laughing at inside jokes and whatnots about recovery.  Suddenly she punts the idea of taking the (12) steps or catchin’ the easy escalator.  This, per norm, made me think the rest of the day about such things (that sponsor of mine … damn good I say).  Then she winks and says, “Gee wouldn’t it be nice to do this outside of work some night?”.  *choke* *cough* *awkward pause*  Yeah I get it. Jeeze.  (It’s always the nice stuff that gets to me … I’ve been yelled at quite enough in my life tyvm … don’t need it from recovery folk too)

So … takin’ the escalator … I believe she called it the two step. Get on at step one and glide effortlessly to step twelve. Yeah. I’m SOBAH … now let’s look at you.  Could also be coined  “the pink cloud”.  Clouds of : DAMN I know what’s wrong with me now, look at all these nice people paying me attention when I’ve been alone for so long, I wanna share it with EVERYONE!!! (picture Kumbaya on crack … get me?)

Funny story. Nineteen year old chic, newly outta treatment, totally pinking the cloud baby. Telling anyone and everyone who will listen “I’m sober and there IS a solution!!!” Librarians were all about because we talked about a “book”.  Doctors wanted to prescribe me anti-anxiety meds but patted me on the head anyhow.  Former friends called me an idiot and wanted to “de-cult” me. Grocery store clerks hissed at me because I paid in pennies, they ignored the recovery babble.  Crash, boom baby … in came life. And it was time to get real. Wiped the smile right of my wrinkle free face;  in it’s place a look of determination rose out of the ashes.

Mysteriously enough there are eleven other steps. Who knew? The fact finding, cleansing, awakening, ego-busting … work of recovery.  Kat (SS aka super sponsor) also said something to the effect of … “It’s easy to do the two step as long as you don’t look at yourself.”  How long can we maintain that? For a day or month or twenty? Little bits of sick ooze out all the time. We barely realize it.  I see the word clean in more than one context; cleansing your spirit so all the crud gets out the way.  I mean we’re walking puppets to our sickishness if we don’t get down to the causes and conditions that keep us hostage.

Escalators seem easy. It’s a lie, falsehood, misnomer, mistaken identity, misdemeanor. Easy is NOT recovery. That one step that you stand on automated style,  makes you lazy and internally chubby. Stepping off at the top without taking a machete to the inner jungle is an injustice to your soul. Easy is not worth having. Never lasts.  Doing the true work of recovery means getting down and dirty and REAL. Especially if you don’t wanna.

So next time you see the steps. Take em. Break a sweat, work those glutes. You’ll be glad you did in the end. Cause’ even if it takes a bit longer, honey-child it’s worth the wait.  Let the pansies ride the escalator and appear to have it all together. NO ONE has it together all the time.   I dig the people in meetings that say, “i HATE this shit.”  and “Bite me.” versus the one’s who have all the answers.

We all bleed. That’s why I get you … and I have bandages.