We all get into jumbled messes… in our heads especially. Step 10 (yes I know I talk about this one ALL the time… shushit) tells me that I am to examine MY behavior. Yes – everyday. Yes – I can’t look at you anymore and blame you for my ‘stuff’. That’s all well and good to examine it… but does it CHANGE? Do you see the patterns of your behavior? Are you able to not stumble over that ego over and over and over again?

These are hard lessons to learn you know. Steps 6 and 7 talk about removing defects of character… step 10 KEEPS them cleaned up. If I continuously take inventories then I’m staying in awareness.

It sucks though. Last night I rage-typed (newest cool thing to say online apparently, put the word rage in front of everything and it sounds SO much cooler) a little ditty that will never get posted. Okay maybe I’ll post a snippet. My head was NOT in a good place. It happens.

I don’t want to be in recovery right now. I don’t want to remember what’s good about the world or my part in things or how to not have fucking resentments.  Don’t wanna take the high road. Just for once I want to bitch about other people and give in to a good bout of gossip or make everything someone else’s fault so for ONCE I don’t have to hunker down and look at shit.  Or have people tell me frivolous shit like “it gets better”… sometimes it doesn’t get better. Sometimes things suck and they’re supposed to fucking suck. It’s called life. The best we can do is just get through it. And apparently have fits. And rant and rage and then realize how stupid they sound and then shut up and go do a damn 10th step.

 

You may disagree with me… but in my experience this happens every once in a while. Recovery is some tough stuff man. The high road, the work, the always looking at your own defects. It’d be much easier to live like (some of) the rest of the world you know; to not take responsibility.

But is it really easier? To live in fear and shame and blame and and and… bleck. No. It isn’t. Living a spiritual life is the most rewarding thing there is… being able to rest easy at night with a clear conscience? Yeah. Win. So even though it’s normal to get pissed off at the world and have a big fat brat fit… Recovery makes it possible for those fits to be temporary moments of pain, instead of the ‘norm’.

So don’t beat yourself up for getting discouraged. We ALL do. Every single one of us. There are just those of us who have learned a different way. A way that works for us… a guide to addressing the situations that happen with dignity and grace and self exploration. So… there IS a solution to stinkin’ thinkin’ (oh the cliche’)… so that it can STOP and you can work through it all. And when the next big fat brat fit happens? You’ll know to let yourself have a good cry, look at your part in the whole sordid mess, forget about what the other people did, and call someone and tell them all about it.

Yeah. It’s JUST like that. Hmmm maybe I should’ve called this one “Get your head out of your ass-ism”. Ev. Anyway… love you people and thanks for keeping me sober and as always… I Love Recovery.

postscript: IT doesn’t get better… WE DO.

As you well know, looking for a job is a full time job and I’ve been submitting all over the interwebs for paid writing gigs. (I have multiple sites I write for including two of my very own domains, but most are for the by-lines and exposure and aren’t feeding the mini ninjas) I’m moving to Jersey this summer and will be working from home, so what a good opportunity to get this party started.

Enough backstory for shitsakes. Are you trying to bore these people to death?

So, feeling a bit discouraged I found some inspiration in a picture that I posted here. Some of you cats dug it and shared it and one particular young lady commented on my friend Becky’s repost. It said the following…

This is my motto for life. I was told not to run (problems with my legs, wear a brace,etc). My response? Bull pucky! I’ve now started training for a 5k. I can’t run yet, but I’m determined. . I don’t even care if I don’t make it to a 5k…I just don’t like being told I can’t. lol

A girl on Google+ named Tanya. Yeah. She wrote that. Puts me in mind of the old Indian Proverb “I had no shoes and complained, until I met a man who had no feet.”
Funny how a few words can change your whole perspective.

I remember a day when I was grateful for a $9 an hour job because Prince Charmingless wasn’t making child support payments (still doesn’t btw). I remember when my house was in foreclosure post divorce due to Charmingless not making house payments and changing all the account information. I remember when I was in the hospital after being drop kicked in the gut with internal bleeding. I remember having multiple surgeries to correct the damage done that night (including the surgery two weeks ago). I remember not being able to look in the mirror. I remember looking up at the world from the floor. I remember taking that job that was beneath me and swearing that I would give it everything I had because that’s who I was. I remember getting multiple promotions in a very short time and a flight down to corporate for an interview. I remember what it was like to first start writing and feeling like no one in the world would EVER read me and what it felt like to be listed in the top ten Recovery blogs last year. Remember how I struggled to build my own sites, complete with self taught HTML code, and how frustrating it was and how I thought the idea of having my very own domain was the coolest thing EVER.

I remember getting sober again after a six month relapse. I remember the shame and guilt I felt after having been sober for 15 years and pissing it all away. I remember the kindness that you people showed me and how you held me close and told me it was all going to be alright. I remember learning to live and love again.

Thank you Tanya. Thank you thank you a million times thank you. For perspective, for your sharing, for helping me to remember where I came from and who I am.

Amazing how a few words over a computer screen can change everything yes? Yes. I love you people and I Love Recovery.

Who exactly ARE these “winners” that everyone keeps talking about sticking with??? I mean really… how do you know who to talk to or whom you should run the hell away from? People can appear to be anything they choose …  at first. Appearances are deceiving and talk is a cheap 10 dollar hooker who looks great from a distance.  I’ve made the mistake several times (those who know me are nodding EMPHATICALLY right now) of being very trusting … but only to a point.  Always, always, and again I say foghorn leghorn style ALWAYS … something, on the gut level, told me to be careful. People in the 12 step world will OFTEN spout stick with the winners. Even the “losers” (opposite of winners … I would prefer “sickers” but hey … parameters) will say these golden words with a sickly silver tongue.  My take on what attributes to avoid and what ones to look for in connections with people … not only recovery but everywhere.

We will start with the obvious and move to the more abstract here people.  Ass grabbing, asshattery, know-it-all, negativity seeping through the skin tight jeans. Judgmental, holy roller, sad sack, nothing is right with the world and all it’s denizens. Shifty, sketchy, “let’s have coffee at my place cutie”, used car salesman (offense intended) greasy, gossipy bitter betty’s laughing at the new girl with thick black eyeliner (yeah that was me bitch … and I ain’t new NO mo’).  Angry, zealot, yelling, in your face spittle, with a shame chaser for not doing what “they say”.The idea of being genuine. Too much happy, too much angst, too much of TOO much. Well, it’s just too much.  No one can be one way all the time – warning wil robinson danger approaches!

NOW … having said all that garbage. I’m really okay with people being that way. It’s where they’re at and most times they don’t perceive their actions with clarity … I mean we’re always the last to know … yanno?  I, like many others, have the eyes to see with compassion and let people “be” where they are.  It wasn’t always so … when I was new I trusted and trusted and trusted and OUCH.  So let this old scarred burned hand tell you from having the experience of touching the stove one too many times … what healthy can look like.  (Paraphrased from my first sponsor back in 92)

Kind, content, non-judgmental but firm, compassionate and sincere, never hear a bad word about a person (thick eyeliner or no).  Comments from the heart whether they be angry, sad, happy, or silly.  Easy to laugh and non drama making, cross talking and ego left at the door. No need for accolades, acts of kindness unspoken, gentleness with a ninja kick added for good measure.  Closemouthedness, keepin’ the real, not afraid to say the bad of the shitty day but quick to say how to resolve it.  Genuine and wise, sage lessons given freely without expectation.  The knowing that sponsorship is NOT ownership and people make their own choices.  Content in their skin without anything needed from you, unconditional love for the still suffering, slicing through shame like a hot knife in buttah.  The first one to approach the unapproachable, hand outstretched.  Sometimes these people are disliked for not playing the game. They are okay with that.  Self esteem wins out in the end. They don’t spout the steps, they live them, word and deed… life and breath.

Most of us fall in the middle somewhere I’d imagine. Work in progress, have a bad day or ninety, tough times, blah blah blah. But the phrase “Stick with the winners.” says to me that even if my ship is sinking, I can look for the hand that is love without condition, stuck out JUST BECAUSE they’ve been there too.  I see people bitchin’ all the time about sick people at meetings … you will find what you seek everytime. Focus on sick … that’s what you’ll get. Look for the bright… boomerang baby there’s the light.   What you focus on becomes reality… truly.  So eyes open and use this page for reference if need be. Checklist available upon request.  Trust your gut, deep way down. That’s where the real is … it will spot kindred spirits every time.   Next time we’ll discuss saying “Hi. My name is…”

My head is a liar.

Yeah yeah we know. All our heads lie to us. True. But as the Big Book says we ‘learn to differentiate the true from the false’. How? Well by step work of course. Doing daily inventories and all that razamatazz (see your sponsor for further reference i’m sure he/she will have TONS to say about this).

Problem, for me anyway, is that the longer I’m sober the more complex the lies become. Flavored with just enough of the truth to be believable, the twists and turns of the magical magnifying glass that is my sick thinking takes me through Dante’s nine circles of hell. Just enough truth for me to buy it on some level, a nagging voice deep down inside with the label of “DOUBT”. This ‘sick’ even uses my own recovery against me, quite frequently if I really examine it. Subtle messages of fail that create chaos with a healthful tangy aftertaste.

Examples? Sure why not. I’m always one for sharing my ridiculousness… no shame is the name of my game.

“These people don’t want to read what you have to say about recovery. You sound like a broken record. Can’t you think of anything new or exciting or worth a shit? Maybe you’ve used up all your words. It happens you know. I mean it’s not so bad to be a failure. You always say you have to fail to grow right? So you’re growing out of this whole thing. Just give up. Surrender to win yes? Yes. You deserve a break. Where’s your stepwork now smarty pants?”

So… as I’m sure I’ve said a hundred thousand times before here and other places, I challenge it. I have to. It will swallow me whole if I let it in even a little bit. I literally write… it… out. Recovery style.

“Well if recovery is only about the response I get then it’s not really giving it away now is it? We do the things we do in recovery because they are simply what we have to do to stay sober. This isn’t a popularity contest or how many people read or even if I even LIKE what I’m writing.

This is one of the ways I do the 12th step. Giving it away no matter what… for no money… no recompense and no acclaim. My name isn’t even here so it’s not about ego. It’s about connection and sharing who I am and what I’ve been taught about recovery so I don’t pick up that first drink. Because, as you well know, to drink is to die for people like me.

So I’ll share this stuff as many times as I have to, because I have a quick forgetter. And I’ll write on I Love Recovery as long as they’ll let me because being a writer is WHO I AM. Not for pay or for accolades but because it’s a big part of my recovery. Just because I might not like something I write doesn’t mean it isn’t worthy.

Since when am I the best judge of character when it comes to myself? I still don’t see things clearly but somehow when I write them out… it matters. To me. And frankly if no one else gets it that’s entirely okay… I get it.

When I live in fear of opinions, I’m in sick thinking. When I project outcomes, again sick. And sure failing is a part of life and we learn from such things… but it doesn’t mean we don’t pick ourselves up and keep going. This is called courage. I have it. I am more than I believe myself to be.”

and if I’m being VERY technical… I write out my 10th step in the 4th step format.

Who do I resent?  ME.

Why? For not being enough. For caring too much about other’s opinions. For being afraid.

What does it affect? Security, Self Esteem, Personal Relationships, Pride, Pocketbook (financial)

How am I being 

Selfish? I expect myself to live to some imaginary standard of right/wrong good/bad without even knowing what to measure.

Dishonest? Acting as if it doesn’t matter.

Self Seeking? Negate accomplishments. Downplay good things that happen.

Afraid?  That the other shoe will drop and I will fail miserably.

This may seem like a lot of work. It’s not really. It’s my process. It is EXACTLY what the book tells me to do. And if I’ve learned nothing else since 1992 when I first graced the rooms of AA with my malarky… it’s that the Big Book is our guide for living. It allows me to differentiate the true from the false, to see myself and the world around me with bright shining eyes instead of the haze of the sickness that has clouded my vision for so long.  My worst enemy is me… how do I get over it? My daily inventory.

It is … what it is.

Twisting and turning like the python in Pandora’s Box, life has a way of just “happening”.  It can happen TO us or we can be an active member of this late night R rated game show.  Put the kids to bed Ma … “life’s” on again.  Flip the channel to the dating game (omg), back to Days of our Jackasses soap style, DVR the news to watch when it’s okay to cry.  Common denominator is who is holding the remote.

Anything can be used for the HGH (human growth hormone I’ll save you the google). Yes even the Telenovelas give us sex tips on how to shake the inner latin mambo saying not a word.  I’m a judger. I admit it.  Work hard to cntrl alt del the words good and bad from the inner Webster’s unabridged.  Experience is just that – no moniker of god/devil unless I choose it to be.  What is the right and wrong of it all really except past experiences bitch slapping me from behind the blonde?  (Oh yes this is another “perspective blog” … get down with it. it’s important)

How I choose to use the information dissemination that is my soul is entirely up to me.  “Without having experienced the deepest black of the night, how can you fully appreciate the beauty that is the sunrise?” ~ quote by Amy Gabriel *grin* paraphrased from 1992.  Even at 19 and new to the recovery game, I knew. Remembered rather.  Know those lessons that only little itty bitty babies have down?  You know.  Be nice, play fair, blah blah blah … THAT is what I strive to remember when life is a shit throwing monkey.

All in all it’s how I CHOOSE to see things.  Glass as half full, half empty, or just simply … there is a glass.  I love the glass.  *pets the glass* In the words of the great P Diddy “Can’t nobody hold me down” unless I buy it on some level. Introspection, with assistance of course, is vital in this channel changing digital world.  The how and why of it all … NOT to put on the zealot judge smock but look with an impartial eye and see how I can BE my highest thought today.  Always … in all ways.  Cookie cutter theology not allowed thank you.  Flow through the inner tv tube to bring the highest quality programming … forget the hijacked “free” cable.  Wonder what’s on PBS today?

So. We get sober/clean.  We go to meetings, get a sponsor, do stepwork … all the necessaries.  What now? How in the sam hell do I have FUN and not use?  All my receptor sites, gut level instincts, behaviors, and attitudes have focused on using for so long that fun seems to be a distant memory.  I used to see people laughing easily, totally comfortable with who they are, doing cheezy things like bowling or dancing; and think “How are they doing that?”.  I mean really.  NOT being messed up and doing really silly things with no inhibitions? They’ve got to be lying about their clean time. I mean OMG.

Then I got involved with young people’s conferences, Founders Day (being from Akron), sober dances, dry clubs, parties and on and on… and so on and so forth.  There is never a dull moment if you choose it that way. Within your vicinity right now, there are plans a brewin’. For clean dances, card parties, bonfires, conferences to liven up the deepest of the winter blahs. The secret here is INVOLVEMENT. Being part of a 12 step fellowship, means just that. Fellowshipping. Camaraderie in the form of shared pain and loss mystically transformed into laughing kinship and love.  In my meetings we say,

But we aren’t a glum lot. If newcomers could see no joy or fun in our existence, they wouldn’t want it. We absolutely insist on enjoying life. ~Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous page 132

It may seem hopeless.  We can’t go from rippin it up from dusk til dawn to sitting at home and knitting a flippin’ doily on a Saturday night. Get into it! Jump in the middle of the fellowship and see what happens. I know it’s scary sometimes. Trust me … getting sober as a young person was freaky.  I thought “I’ll never have fun again.” Man was I wrong.  If you’re bored in recovery then you need to open your eyes to whats out there. Camp outs and bar-b-ques and people playing their music stuff; skinny dipping sober (shhh about that one, that’s really between me and my sponsor), the satisfaction of laughing so hard after an all night sober party that my stomach is sore for days after. YES!!! It can SOO be like that.  Plan to hit an NA convention (from what I hear they’re EVERYWHERE),  go to Founder’s Day in June,  or international AA convention in Texas this summer, copy and paste this link into your browser and DO SOMETHING for sober’s sakes.

http://www.anonymousone.com/activities.htm

Love and laughter and joy and peace. You’ll find it here. So what if you’re afraid? We ALL were. Remember that everyone you meet in the rooms was new at one time. WE GET IT. So when we reach our hand out to you … know that it’s done by one who “gets” you. In a way no one else can know.

Kick your heels up. There’s a time for tears and doin’ the work but also a time to shake your groove thing, laugh your ass off, be silly and playful and sing bad karoake songs. We’ll laugh with you until our tummies ache. You’re not alone anymore and remember Rule 62 from the book The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions page 149,

“Don’t take yourself too damn seriously.”

This isn’t going to be a long post… nor a witty one, or pretty or clever or any of my usual antics online.

I’m sad. SAD. Sad for a friend in recovery who wrote me an email today telling me she had relapsed.

There was once a time where I would’ve written a long dissertation telling her why she should come back and to put the bottle down. That she had every thing to live for and please please please don’t die slowly. I’d have told her that there IS a solution. That it CAN get better. Written reams on steps and what to do and how to do it and why. As if my emotion or passion can chase away the sick of an actively using alcoholic.

I didn’t. I couldn’t. You see she deserves better than that from me.

I love her in only the way you can love a fellow battered soul. We’ve shared SO much with each other through the last few years that she feels like family… even though I’ve not ever met her. (Not that that matters… the heart can be transferred over wifi too) She knows. She knows the answers, the solution, the issue. She doesn’t need me to tell her those things. Not even a little.

What she doesn’t know is that she is lovable. That she is worthy of getting better; deserving of the happiness and joy that’s waiting for her after she throws away that bottle. That she’s NOT alone. That, even if she feels like no one else does, I love her. To tell her that her humor and warmth and transparency and kindness and sarcastic biting wit is everything; and the way she can say only one word and make my entire day. She doesn’t know how she touches other’s lives in ways that defy explanation; and that her smile lights up an entire room.

She doesn’t know she’s worth it. But I do.

So I simply typed… i love you no matter what. i don’t want you to hurt. the sick CAN go away and then put a stupid heart emoticon as if that could even begin to relay how much I care.

It wasn’t enough. But maybe this is. Maybe she’ll never read this. But the simple fact that she reached out to me over the interwebz says that maybe she will.

You are never alone. The sun does come back out again. There is a solution. And I’ll be… right… here.

as soon as you saw plumber... you KNOW you were picturing this. don't lie.

I heard once at a meeting.  “I have eighteen inches from my heart to my head and right now it’s clogged with bullshit.” That was in the mid 90′s and I’ve never forgotten it.  Clogged with fear, desperation, self pity, anger, selfishness, and on and on and … on. (emphasis placed here if you didn’t catch it. the written word can be so tricky…  *eye roll*) The level of the proverbial clog varies and is contingent on my spiritual condition.  Draino works for clogs but might be toxic, so I’ll have to settle for the kind of clean that only comes from doing the recovery show.

I wrote it all out.  The whole sordid “affair”. Yes I meant exactly what I wrote here.  Also known as a fourth step and/or tenth step. Yep. This stuff works yo. Sooooo… I made some poor decisions. I am not an idiot. Well… at least not in this instance in many others I’m sure I qualify.  It is extraordinarily hard to stick; think Mary Lou Retton and the 1984 vault landing. Stand until you can’t, legs quivering, arms in the air, million dollar smile gleaming; don’t move an inch dammit. STICK even if the times get tough, EVEN if the times get TOUGH.  Tall and proud and all about it, even if your triple flip only went twice.  Even if your run wasn’t what you wanted … STICK the ending.   I did that. Proud of me.  Nothin’ but net for the ninja.

Other issues clogging the drainpipe… kids, work, money, court, ex-jackass-husbands, sex or lack thereof, etc etc etc … blah blah BLAH. So what. Every condition is temporary really. Think back to what you were worried about a year ago, month ago, hell even yesterday. How important is it to your life today really??? I mean REALLY really.  Pain as motivator, as measuring stick for growth. THAT is what matters.

So … I write, I talk, I cry, I throw pencil sharpeners that are clogged with eyeliner, I stay up late and eat ice cream. I do step work and talk to the one who gets me. It is enough. I am growth.  Who says sad is bad? I read somewhere once (in a big blue book… go figure) that before working the steps “we cannot differentiate the true from the false.”  Today I am able to tell the HUGE difference betwixt the two.  True feelings are to be honored and cherished and felt. False evidence appearing real is a bitch that deserves to be kicked out the door.

Used a drain cleaner called truth. Clean as a whistle baby.  Thanks Roto-Rooter … you know who you are.

Yeah. That voice. Those songs. That girl. The girl I grew up listening to, the one that bookmarked first kisses and high school dances and sleepovers and and and… yeah. Beautiful voice and face and could’ve had a beautiful life.

Addiction said this wouldn’t be so.

A once sweet career ended too quickly with a marriage gone sour and a fall from grace. Suspicion of drug use confirmed on the Oprah Winfrey show in 2009. I’ll let you read the Huffington Post article yourself and see what you think.

 Whitney Houston took drugs, including cocaine and marijuana, with ex-husband Bobby Brown, who was emotionally abusive during their marriage and at one point spit on her, the singer said during an interview that aired Monday on “The Oprah Winfrey Show.”

“I had so much money and so much access to what I wanted,” Houston told Winfrey. “I didn’t think about the singing part anymore. I was looking for my young womanhood.”

After a long absence from music, Houston is staging a career comeback with a new album “I Look to You” released last month and a two-part appearance on “The Oprah Winfrey Show.” Houston is one of the best-selling artists of all time, but her career stalled as she grappled with drug problems and a troubled marriage to Brown.

The couple married in 1992 and were divorced in 2007. During their marriage, Brown was arrested on drug and alcohol charges, and Houston twice entered drug rehabilitation programs. She has custody of their teenage daughter.

 

One doesn’t qualify for drug treatment by mistake. And of course physical abuse is never to be discounted (being a survivor of DV my damn self).  But denial and addiction go hand in hand in hand to mouth to overdose to death.

No one knows yet as to the cause of death. But once an addict always an addict. WE… know this.

All the money in the world can’t keep you clean. Nor can all the talent. Addiction kills. Whether directly or indirectly. Rest in Peace Whitney.

“The biggest devil is me. I’m either my best friend or my worst enemy.” Whitney Houston

Ever play that game as a kid? You know the one where you list the things you’re taking from the alphabet and have to remember them all? Yeah. I’m playing that game right now in my head. Except it’s not a game. I’m sorting through the idea (which made me quite nervous actually) that for the FIRST time in a VERY long time… I’m going out into the world.

Not only out into the world but more importantly to New York City to hang with some amazing people. None of which, to my knowledge, are in recovery. And they’re going to party like only cool kids can. And I’m honestly okay with that. Except for one little thing…

I thought… Am I even going to fit in with these people? I mean sure I write and they seem to like it well enough… but I don’t drink. Not only do I not drink, I’m a recovering alcoholic. For me to pick up again is tantamount to going back to that insanity from which I came. And no I have no desire to pick up. I’ve inventoried my inventories and am in a good spot.Wanna know why?

Cause’ I told on myself. I told my sponser and my boyfriend (who’s amazingly supportive and wonderful btw) that I was nervous. Not about the drinking but that I maybe wouldn’t be “as cool” or “fit in”. I told them that I wondered if people would think me “odd” for not drinking.

Sounded silly as soon as I said it out loud. Only a self centered drunk would think that way. As if anyone else will give a rat’s ass what I do or when. Silly yes? Yes.

But honestly I’m GLAD my head thinks that way. I’m GLAD that recovery is always at the forefront of my mind. I’m GLAD that I know myself well enough to tell on that stupidity to show it for what it really is… my sick thinking. My “not good enough”-ism.  My fear. Oh man was my 10th step a big one tonight.  An example? Sure. Why not. The more I tell on myself the better off I am. Ego is an illusion. 

What am I afraid of? People thinking I’m odd because I don’t party.

Where am I selfish dishonest self seeking and afraid?

• Selfish: I want all these people to think and act MY way (to think I’m cool omg I can’t believe I’m even typing this out loud. ffs.)
• Dishonest: I hadn’t told anyone (until today) 
• Self Seeking: Acted as if I wasn’t nervous.
• Afraid: of other people’s opinions. 

So I remind myself (as others have reminded me as well) I am a confident woman in recovery who can hang with the best of them. I also have loving people in my life who don’t think I’m an idiot … even if I think what I say sounds stupid. And… I told on my head which in turn took care of any nagging sick snippets of fail in my noggin. NOW… I’m all packed. Physically and mentally.

Always always ALWAYS… TELL ON YOURSELF. No matter if it sounds stupid or not. Then, if you’re anything like me, you can laugh at yourself a little and let yourself be happy that you have somewhere to go … that’s fun and uber cool. NYC here I come

I’m going on a trip and I’m taking my:

(Happy) Ass.

Big Book.

Comfort zone.

Directions to a meeting in the Big Apple …

yeah. I think you get the idea.

I love you people… thanks for listening to all the silliness I put out here every week. My world is an infinitely more beautiful space because of you and oh yeah I almost forgot…  I LOVE RECOVERY.