Apologizing; admitting my mistakes; being honest about the part I played in precipitating and perpetuating a bad situation is humbling. I have had to bare my soul to such an extent that, at times, it feels as though I've flayed it open, tearing out pieces to hold up in my outstretched hands as offerings to those I have wronged. By accepting responsibility for my ill-conceived actions and acknowledging the pain I have caused others, I in effect cut them out- like the rotten bits of fruit, I cut them out. Empty holes like fresh wounds gouged out where the rotten bits used to be. It is uncomfortable for me to be vulnerable. At first it feels like a weakness, but I have to remind myself that it is the right thing to do. I have to remember that in time all those little holes will heal allowing something better and healthier to grow in the space they once occupied. I must remember that this is a necessary process if I want to welcome and keep serenity in my life. I kept the company of misery for a long time; we know each other very well. I understand that by not going through the process of personal inventory and humbly asking for forgiveness, when it is apparent that I do so, I will once again invite misery to eat at my table and sleep in my bed.
Recovery is showing me the stark reality of what actually happened when I used alcohol as a way to deal with undesirable circumstances and as a way to avoid acknowledging my vulnerability. Using alcohol as a solution was the real weakness. By drinking, I moved away from my humility and my humanity and closer to arrogance and fear. Alcohol helped me to cultivate contempt, plant seeds of fear, and reap the devastating consequences of my ignorance.
In my sobriety, I find that I want all of the bad stuff out. All of the anger and guilt and resentment- I want them gone. I do not want them sitting around, lingering in my head, getting a foothold in my consciousness; growing there, weighing me down, suffocating my serenity, and leaving me in the darkness. I cannot drink those feelings away. I cannot deny their existence; ignoring them and falsely hope for the best. I can no longer believe that alcohol will solve my problems. I can no longer lie to myself, believing that a drink will make everything better. I have to do the right thing and doing the right thing can be scary and uncomfortably difficult (which is how I know I'm probably doing the right thing!). I have to ask for guidance. I have to ask for the courage not to react and ask to have the patience to step back and wait until I possess a bit more objectivity. I find that I need to wait until I have gained some sense of a broader perspective before I proceed; before I go off half-cocked: which had previously been my preferred method of operation. I could not see how completely ineffective this was when I was drinking. (I would impulsively shoot my mouth off, thinking I was making a point, fulfilling a need to justify and validate myself. I would totally miss the mark, make it worse, piss people off, and then drink over the outcome my actions produced- insanity!). I could not see how ridiculous it was to think anything good would come from the choices I was making. I see it now, though. I can see that I have a choice to make in relation to my actions, my behavior- I must decide which path to take. One path is alcohol and I already know where that path takes me. It is not a place I care to visit ever again.
I am so grateful to be here, right now, in this moment. I am so grateful to know I don't ever have to go back to the life I had once settled for. I am so grateful for a program of recovery and the alcoholics who have shared it with me.
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