Making Amends...To Myself

I can be pretty hard on myself as far as expectations and standards of who and where I should be; especially, now that I am sober. I think I have a lot of residual guilt and remorse over all of the time I wasted drinking; all the opportunities I missed because getting drunk was so important; and all of the limitations I imposed on myself through my alcoholism. Sometimes I find that I am in a funk over not achieving goals I think I should have reached by now, not just in sobriety, but life in general- I'm middle-aged, single, no kids, no awe inspiring career, no college degree- I tend to get wrapped up in thinking about all of the things I haven't done and then I admonish myself for being a failure.

 

I was relating this to a friend in the program and she ticked off a decent amount of things that I have accomplished; things I have welcomed into my life since committing to sobriety; and opportunities that I am creating just by being sober. I found that it was difficult for me to listen and accept all of the compliments she was giving me- like she was handing me little presents all wrapped up and pretty, each containing a small piece of me tucked inside like a precious gem. I thought myself undeserving of such gifts and I shied away from her praise.

 

Why do I do that?

 

Why is it easier for me to accept the bad parts, the flaws and the defects than it is for me to acknowledge all of the good stuff, my assets and abilities and accomplishments?

 

Transformation of Recovery

I was admiring myself in the bathroom mirror last night.

 

Yep, Admiring.

 

I do this quite often now, check myself out in the mirror. I can't help it- it just feels so good to look upon my reflection with fondness and appreciation. Whereas, when I was drinking, I couldn't stand the sight of myself. I would divert my eyes and do my best not to focus on my face- my red, blotchy, bloated face with bloodshot eyes and deep wrinkles etched around the frown of my mouth. Ugh, I didn't want to see it. I felt so ugly- from the inside out. Now, it's rare not to have a beautifully buoyant, happy, smiling face staring back at me. Sometimes I will strike little poses, turning my head side to side, trying out different expressions and then laughing at myself- laughing and loving myself.

 

Finally! Getting comfortable with me!

 

Not only that, but...

 

I FEEL ALIVE!!

 

That spark of hope that had been extinguished by my drinking is once again burning within. I feel that light flowing through my veins and flowing through my life. It is such an unbelievable feeling; one that I did not think I would ever experience; could ever experience. I can try my best to articulate it- I could describe how I had confined myself to darkness and shadows and how inexplicably wonderful it is to be able to step into the light, to feel the radiating warmth embracing me like a long, lost love. I could tell you how I had surrendered to a broken spirit and mourned its passing with the sadness of an abandoned child and how the healing I once thought impossible is taking place, pulling all of those broken shards together and mending the pieces so that becomes whole again; something tangible again.

 

Fear of Never Drinking Again

When I began to take those first few steps into sobriety, I'm not sure which fear was had the most power: the fear that I would never drink again or the fear that I would.

There was a part of me that scoffed at the idea of never taking another drink. I mean, come on! What was I supposed to do with myself? How was I supposed to have fun? Celebrate? What about dinner? How was I supposed to go out and have dinner on a Friday night? How odd it would be to decline a pre-appetizer 'something' from the bar, while I look over my menu, drink offered by the waiter. Not drinking equaled Boring as far as I was concerned. Everything I did related to drinking- going out, socializing, letting loose, relaxing, shopping, listening to music, painting, writing, watching tv, reading, and dealing with a myriad of emotions- rejection, anger, fear, grief, excitement, anxiousness. And of course, what in the world would it look like to other people when I went out and ordered a diet coke...without the Jack? Not drinking was going to suck- Big Time; at least, that's what I thought.

All of those thoughts and fears were there during my first few days and weeks of sobriety, just as they had always been; but because my last drunk was so hellaciously scary, the fear of getting drunk again slid into the top spot for the first time ever. All of those other fears were pushed aside and the thought of never getting drunk again looked pretty damn good.  And, I was lucky that it continued to hold it's place as fear number one until I had enough time into recovery to see the reality of my powerlessness over alcohol.

11 Months of Sober Gratitude

11 months without a drink. 11 months full of hangover free mornings. 11 months of not missing work from a binge the night before. 11 months of being able to look in the mirror without turning away in disgust. 11 months of being able to respect the choices I've made. 11 months of memories that are not laced with regret. 11 months of being able to breathe. 11 months of sober gratitude.

When I first came into the rooms, I heard people speak all these cliche's and my critic would heckle them inside my head- give me a break, what is wrong with these people, that's so stupid; I would mentally roll my eyes. If you've been in the rooms you know what I'm talking about. You've heard the AA banter; the little pennants of moral support waved around the room to invoke hope. Your own little critic may have been having a field day with sayings like: "A grateful alcoholic never drinks" or "I have a life that's second to none" or "My worst day sober is better than my best day of drinking". And let us not forget, "It works if you work it".

I admit, I privately mocked all of those happy-go-lucky AA sentiments. Probably because I didn't believe that I would ever be able to say those things and mean it. I didn't believe that any of those things would ever be real for me. It was easier to think that these people and their flag waving motto's were a joke than to admit that I wanted to be like them, I wanted what they had, but was too afraid to allow myself to hope for something that seemed so unattainable. These people, these alcoholic, also spoke incessantly about believing in a power greater than myself. The only thing I believed in when I first came into the rooms was the power of the drink and the inevitable failure that would surely follow any attempt to get out from under that power.

Emotional Stability in Sobriety

Recently, someone reached this blog by searching the phrase- emotional affects of 6 months sober. That inquiry sparked some in-depth, critical thinking sessions on how much my emotional health has improved by not drinking AND by working a program of recovery. There is a strong correlation between my days of sobriety and my emotional health. Every day that I don't pick up a drink is a day that an old wound heals a little more or a day that I feel a little better about myself.

 

And, that outcome makes sense, doesn't it? For me, I hated my drinking; I hated myself for drinking and for not being able to stop drinking. So it would make sense that once I removed the cause that incited so much self-hate, I wouldn't hate myself so much! This makes it so much easier to get close to who and all that I really am. It makes it so much easier to begin to take care of myself and honor myself and trust myself. In being able to do these things, I have slowly began to experience a sense of freedom and relief on a level that I would have never known existed otherwise.

 

For the first time in my life, I am experiencing emotional stability. I think that was an awareness that came to me in May (which was around the 6 month mark). May, in particular, was a month where my new tools for living were put to the test-

 

My doggie developed a high fever one evening which scared the hell out of me, but thankfully I was sober and I was able to stay calm and tend to her. I was able to break her fever down, but if I would have had to drive her the 20 or 30 miles to the emergency vet in the middle of the night, I could have done so without any apprehension. I hate to think how I would have handled that situation had I been drinking. Her symptoms were so subtle that I may not have even known how sick she was. By the time she was burning up and shaking from chills, I would have been oblivious or passed out. And, would she have made it through the night? Not a question I have pondered lightly.

 

Also, in May, my computer crashed, the starter in my car died, and then the car battery died. It was one thing after the next! Every Friday in May brought some new aggravation. These events, before recovery, would have put my emotions all over the map. They are perfect examples of what were once binge inducing events. My solution a year ago would have been to drink and obsess and feel bad and then drink some more. I would have been up and down- something out of my control happens and I am down, I drink to temporarily come up and forget that I am down. Then I sober up, feel like crap and still have the unresolved problem and I'm down again.

 

Given my old methods of approach, it isn't hard to see how impossible it was to trust in my ability to make decisions and cope or to ever garner any kind of positive emotional footing. I was an emotional mess- my brain was a passenger on a never ending rollercoaster ride. That was then though and this is now!

 

When all was said and done; when each of those situations had been handled, rectified, and solved, I noticed something- I noticed that I had systematically handled, coped, and resolved all of those events without freaking out and most importantly, without taking a drink. Now, to most people, that may not seem like a big deal- coping with the day to day doesn't seem like a very novel and profound accomplishment. But to an alcoholic, at least to this alcoholic, my ability to cope with all of those nuisances in a rational and levelheaded manner was not just an achievement- it was a miracle; a true milestone in my life and all that I have known it to be.

 

I handle myself so differently now. I am able to think about the best course of action instead of simply reacting from a place of fear or anger. To be able to see these differences in my behaviors elevates my confidence and trust which has a huge impact on my emotions. For example, was I upset when I had to cancel my plans for the day because my car wouldn't turn over? Yes. I was upset and disappointed, but I didn't let those emotions rule me. I didn't let them carry me down into the abyss of pity and despair. I didn't make a bad situation worse by drinking. And, I had people who were willing to help me resolve my dilemma. I didn't force myself to take it all on alone. Actually, what all of those seemingly negative events did was to show me just how much the people in my life care and are willing to lend me a hand. They wanted to be there for me and I let them. I let them be there for me; another HUGE milestone.

 

I feel the need to make it very clear that I do not believe that my increase in emotional stability and this new sense of well being I am experiencing can only be contributed to my not drinking. I believe that the credit truly lies with learning a new way to live through AA and the tools and support the program has provided. Even if I could have 'put the plug in the jug', (which was impossible for me to accomplish until AA), I would have still been left with the same behavior methods and thought processes that led me to empty the jug in the first place. I needed to learn NEW behaviors and DIFFERENT thought processes in order to live with sobriety. Today, I feel like I am leading an effective and satisfying life and that has everything to do with the "emotional affects" of living sober through recovery.

 

 

For Me, Not Drinking Is Not Normal

I like waking up on a Sunday morning without the dirty taste of last night's beer in my mouth and the dry stink in my sinuses. I like waking up and being able to get out of bed without the room tilting and my head banging. I like waking up without having to wonder if I'm going to need to replace my morning coffee with a few cold ones to get my system straight and stop the quakes that pound my insides like rough waves on a stormy afternoon. I know what it's like to drink all day, everyday. I know what it's like to be on the front lines of a battle that never ends and one that I could never win. I was always the loser when I went to war against myself with alcohol as my weapon. I know what it's like for my life to be as empty as that last bottle I chucked. I know what it's like to live with all of these things. I also know what it's like to live without them- and I like definitely like living without them.

But the thing is, me not living with all of those things is not normal. It's not normal for me not to drink, not yet anyway. It's not normal for me to not drink when I'm scared or when I feel rejected or threatened or bored or pissed off. It's not normal to ask my higher power for guidance or patience or temperance. It's not normal for me to call another alcoholic for comfort or solace or advice. It's not normal for me to have boundaries or to care about myself or to live in the present moment. It's not normal for me to be realistic and responsible and trustworthy. It's not normal for my life to be manageable and fulfilling and purposeful. I heard something the other day that stuck in my brain- drinking for me was normal; not drinking is abnormal. I am now learning to deal with life and normal situations in a very abnormal way. This is true for me- reaching for a drink was my normal response when it came to coping with normal, everyday life situations- good and bad.
I am learning how to be more aware of my reactions and sensitive to how I go about responding to whatever it is that may be unfolding- I am learning how to pause and think things through which is abnormal and at times, frustrating, but it has gotten easier. I have faith that what seems abnormal now will, with a little bit of time and a lot of practice, become second nature.

I'm learning a new way to live through a program of recovery and the tools of AA. Today I can choose what I want to live with and I can decide what I would rather live without- I wasn't able to do that when I was drinking. I like how I'm living now so much better than how I was living before.

Getting Comfortable with Myself Through Recovery

If you had asked me what I truly wanted, more than anything; if I could have one wish, what would it be? My honest answer, from deep down within, would be to not hate myself. More than anything I would want to know what it feels like be completely comfortable with myself, to be okay with being me. This has been a burning desire and a personal wish for me for as long as I can remember. I have a memory from when I was 13 or 14 and I wrote in a journal- I hate myself, nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I'm fat, I'm ugly, and I hate myself over and over again. I filled up pages detailing what a horrible and unworthy person I was. These are the feelings that I have carried with me for more than 20 years now. How I long to be free of their self-depreciating influence.

 

I often notice certain women as I am out and about- the kind of women that scream "I am comfortable with myself" without ever saying a word. The kind of women that drip with self esteem and wear their confidence like sparkling jewels. I notice them and I watch them and I think with longing, "ohhh, how I want to be one of those women." I want what they have.

 

Those women were so unlike myself; they were so self-assured. They are the kind of women who look you in the eye and walk with their shoulders back and up and heads held high. They are the ones whose presence is graceful and dignified and speak without much hesitation. Those women are not afraid to announce their position, state their opinion, or respect their own boundaries- even if it conflicts with another. You don't have to wonder if they take care of themselves. You don't have to ask if they respect themselves or possess a strong sense of self-love and appreciation, you can sense it. You can feel their self-worth like a vibration buzzing against your skin. Would I ever be able to file myself within their ranks? Would I ever be able to have even the tiniest sliver of that pie? Could I please have just a little bit, just a taste?

 

One of the first things that struck me when I came into the rooms was the program seemed to be full of those women. How was it possible that so many of them were concentrated in one spot. They were everywhere! They congregated together chatting and laughing. To me, they were like rays of sunshine penetrating through dark, stormy clouds- I was drawn to the warmth and the light they emitted. I wanted to talk to them. I wanted to know their secret, but I held back because surely they would discover right away that I wasn't of their kind. I wasn't worth the effort of their acknowledgement or conversation. Just being in the same room with them caused all of my insecurities to multiply and my self-consciousness to surge. I shied away from them and resigned myself to the corner where I figured I belonged. Before the meeting dispersed, a few would approach me and ask gentle questions and offer me kindness and understanding. I was scared to death. Why would they want to talk to me? Why would they want to know me? I was so defensive at first; so full of doubt and skepticism. What I didn't know at the time was that they had not always been one of those women. They had not always been close friends with all of the positive attributes related to self. They had not always been someone comfortable with themselves. What I didn't know is that once upon a time, they had been someone just like me.

 

My wish, my desire, my longing to be at peace with myself has become a goal in my recovery. The women that I attend meetings with give me hope way beyond wishful thinking- they have taken my hand and have shown me how to get what I want. When I let them lead the way, they guide me to what is real and possible and within my reach.

 

I bring all of this up because last night my sponsor enlightened me. We were in the midst of going over the work I had completed for the fourth step and I told her my about my secret wish to one day become one of those women and she turned to me and looked at me with an expression of seriousness and wonder and said, but you are one of those women now. Don't you see? You ARE one of those women. You ARE.

 

I am?

 

Yes, she says, yes.

 

It took me a little while to digest her observation. I didn't believe her at first, my self-doubt still at the head of the line, taking center stage. But when I got up the next morning and I looked at myself in the mirror I couldn't help but smile because I knew she was right. I had finally tipped the scales in favor of my positive attributes. Through recovery my confidence, trust, respect, love, and care towards self has experienced tremendous growth. I am finally feeling a sense of peace from within. I am finally getting comfortable with myself- what a gift!