The Holi-daze

The Holiday season provides many of us with a yearly celebration of family, friends and beautiful memories. There is laughter, joy and love overflowing. We sing carols, eat hearty meals and hug our loved ones and we are left above all with a heart full of gratitude.

There are also many for whom the holidays offer no real or lasting happiness. For that segment of the populace, this is just a time of the year to get through as unscathed as possible. Haunting memories and bitter longing plague this scene. If I’m not careful I can take the seat reserved by my past on my behalf right on the front row of this show.

In spite of your own view of what the holidays mean or the lovely memories they represent, everyone doesn’t share your experience. Many people carry years of emotional and mental scarring from tumultuous holidays of their youth that have carried over to affect those of their adulthood. Others have had serious difficulties and loneliness (some of that is self-inflicted, of course) as an adult and the holidays only seem to serve as a reminder of the emptiness of years past.

For many, the holidays serve more as a stark reminder of those who have been lost than as a time to enjoy the fellowship and love of those who remain. The dismal quicksand of woeful recollection swallows whole any joy or gratitude that lives in the present and he or she often feels left with no comfort outside of chemical or behavioral distraction. The beauty and wonder of the here and now are mortgaged against the brokenness of yesterday and the present is often forfeit as a result.

Our disease has we addicts convinced that our sole comfort lies in the next drink, drug, box of cookies or stranger’s caress. Like any good spree of bad behavior we are left with more questions than answers: How did this happen again? Why did I yet again run away from both the good and the bad and leave such destruction in my wake? How can I repair all the collateral damage for this latest binge? What now, and what lies ahead?

The key here is to attempt to realign our focus. All the negative memories and feelings produce energy, and if this energy is not redirected than the consequences can be dire. We must figure out a way to get out of “self” and get in to service. This time of year more than any other offers a multitude of opportunities to go in either of those directions, and by our CHOICE we can either drown in our bitterness or help ourselves be set free from the bondage of negativity.

If you find yourself wallowing in the negativity of the past or present, get up and get going in the direction of another person you can help. You’ll find that much like a morning frost in Tennessee, your negativity will be gone before you know it. You just have to decide to get out of your own head and get into service of your fellows.

How can you be of service during the holiday season?

What Might've Been

The rooms of recovery offer a fantastic opportunity to revisit the end stage of my active addiction and my early sobriety. It is of great value to pause long enough to remember just why I had to change the road I was on and just how desperate I was for a bit of hope to which I could cling. Without those timely reminders and quick trips back in time to that fall and winter of 2009, I would surely be lulled into a false sense of security in my own ability to hold my life together. I may even toy with the idea of being able to drink or use again in a controlled way if not for these stark trips down memory lane.

The addict has a unique ability at time to see the past through rose-colored glasses, turning a blind mind’s eye to all the pain and suffering our drinking and using wrought in our lives. Sometimes my mind wanders into a “what might’ve been” scenario.

What if I hadn’t left my Financial Aid/ Adjunct Faculty gig at then-Draughon’s Junior College to take on a role that was truthfully so much more demanding?

What if I hadn’t gotten caught with liquor on my breath at Miller-Motte that day and been able to keep pressing on in a tough situation, although with progressively worse drinking and using sure to follow?

What if I had just gone right back out to find another job after I was let go from that job instead of agreeing to go to rehab?

What if I’d come out of treatment, gotten a job and tried to embrace that good ol’ controlled drinking fallacy once again instead of embracing my sobriety?

Then, there are some more positive and affirming “what ifs” that followed the pivot point of my life:

What if I’d never walked into the SSF Submission Academy?

What if I’d never walked into Grace Community Church?

What if I’d given in and relapsed like I wanted to so many times while I worked and wallowed at the motorcycle shop?

What if I had stubbornly chosen to keep diving headfirst into the proverbial meat grinder of unhealthy and ill-advised romantic relationships?

And the seemingly not-so-positive:

What if I hadn’t somehow mentally broken and tapped out with 3 freaking seconds left in the round?

What if I’d gone to visit my sister and her family as often as I should have before she was killed?

What if she had just worn her stupid seatbelt?

People can “what if” themselves to the point of institutionalization or worse. I learned this the hard way after my own car wreck in 2001. You see, things have unfailingly unfolded in exactly the manner in which they needed to even when I can’t make sense of it all. The truth is if any of those critical scenarios had turned out differently I’d be nowhere near the place in my life that I am today. In many of the above cases, had they turned out differently I’d have no place in life because I probably wouldn’t be left among the living. Relapse for me is a death sentence.

There is an unbelievable peace that accompanies the realization that right here and right now you are exactly where you need to be. No matter how blindingly confusing it is at the time, even those life-defining moments that seem to be so awful in the midst of the moment can become an amazing positive force in your life if you so choose. You must resolve to press on and stay in the fight when you’re hardest hit. That’s largely what separates a life well lived from the chasm of what might have been.