Fear

As I've previously expressed in this space, basically any post I make refers to a topic with which I am particularly struggling at the time. This is no different, but has a special kind of relevance for me today.

Fear is not a thing I often give myself permission to feel.

Pain, hurt, anger, joy, rage, love, gratitude? Sure- often each of those comes into play more than once in the course of my day.

But fear? Not so much. Even if I feel it, it's usually immediately translated into something else (most often anger) or dealt with and eliminated swiftly. I don't often acknowledge it in my own mind when I do feel it, much less let anyone know about my experience.

Today is different. Now I know that when I acknowledge, uncover and tell my world  about something, I am empowered to confront it in a healthy way. Lately I have been experiencing fear in a way I haven't in many years.

My father died of a rare and incurable lung disease when I was 21 and he was a month shy of 56. In hindsight it was easy to see how long he'd probably been sick but in the moment we just knew something wasn't totally right, but figured nothing was terribly wrong either. We knew he wasn't quite himself and that his health seemed to be different, but didn't know that he was dying. We took him to the hospital in late July or early August with what we thought was pneumonia for the second time in six months or so. It took the about three weeks and two hospitals to diagnose the true problem and the news was grim: he had idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis and that wasn't curable with anything short of a lung transplant. They figured it out just in time to tell us they couldn't do anything to stop it or treat it and he died a bit less than a week later.

I have been dealing with my own health issues, and while they aren't related to my lungs they are unable to be completely and accurately diagnosed right now. I was told in December that I am anemic (at times severely so) and they aren't certain if it is due entirely to internal blood loss (although that is happening) or intestinal issues causing my body to be unable to properly absorb nutrients (probably part of it, and also due in no small part to my years of alcoholic drinking and drug use) or that my blood is in and of itself just iron deficient (also actually happening to some degree as well) OR ALL OF THE ABOVE, or maybe some of the above with other, different factors at play.

I am frightened because my quality of life has somewhat diminished (although not disappeared by any stretch of the imagination) and there are no solid answers, resulting in no distinct plan of action regarding treatment. I am frightened because my addict brain is telling me that it has to be the worst possible scenario and that I am going to turn out like my dad.

As stated in an earlier paragraph, when I experience fear it turns very quickly to anger and often that escalates almost immediately into rage. I have spent a lot of time being very angry lately, and this to me was the sign that something else was actually going on- these days I am not an angry person, so I knew it had to be a reaction to something more. Upon some honest soul-searching and inventorying, I uncovered the truth of the matter: I am being barraged by fear and it may not be entirely unjustified. I refuse to cower in front of this and I will not become paralyzed by it, but acknowledging it helps me greatly- it's the first step towards overcoming it. I recognize it in myself and now you can take me at my word that I am dealing with it rather than stuffing it away, as is my default.

I can only do this one day at a time (like everything else) and I ask for you to show me the patience I am so often incapable of showing myself.

This is my truth, and now that it has been expressed it is a thing that I can overcome. For me, it cannot be dealt with while it is hidden inside of me. Now that it is in the light, I can confront it, conquer it and not be ruled by it.

Of Course It Doesn't Make Sense

When I was in college, I saw a shirt for a fraternity or sorority that said "From the outside looking in, you can't understand it. From the inside looking our, you can't explain it." This is a pretty effective way to both pique curiosity and project exclusivity. It's also a fairly apt description for many things in this life that hold mystery to those who aren't members of a particular group, and non-addicts looking at addiction from the other side of the proverbial glass are no exception.

For most normal folks, the concept of never being satisfied is something to which you aspire. This way of being can propel you much further than the alternative in most all of your endeavors. Never being satisfied is the double-edged sword held to the throat of the addict. We can't be satisfied - one is too many and a thousand is never enough, remember? For us, that unsolvable problem has potentially deadly consequences. We chase the unmet satisfaction even as the chase is killing us.

By definition, alcoholism is an addiction to alcohol. An addiction is characterized by a lack of control - the compulsion is so strong that when active, it is outside of a person's capability to resist. In active addiction, you have no control of and no power over this compulsion to act directly against your own physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health. You cannot stop it and you cannot hope to contain it. If you have any true grip on your action related to an unhealthy substance or activity, you may be in the early stages of addiction and have the opportunity to deal with it before the issue takes over.

There are plenty of behaviors in or characteristics of addiction that don't make sense.

- Why can't you just stop? If I could stop I would, buddy.
- Are things really so bad in your life that you have to drink yourself straight into oblivion? I'm an alcoholic- they don't have to be. Good, bad or indifferent I feel the urge to drink until I don't know my own name.
- Aren't you afraid of the consequences? Nope. Not as afraid as I am of being sober, anyway.
- Don't you love yourself enough to want better for yourself? Nope. The capacity for loving oneself is reserved for someone who isn't such a screwup/loser/idiot/disappointment.
 - That seems like a good enough reason to have a drink, so why not? Fact is, I don't need a reason; I'm an alcoholic.

You see, I don't have control after the first whatever- drink, drug or other vice. Without consistent effort I have no defense against the first whatever, either. In and of my own capabilities, I may be able to make it stop for a bit, but I can't keep it that way. I know this because I tried more than once without success. If I could do it on my own, I would've done it on my own a long time ago and saved myself the embarrassment.

If I am able to continue to do the right thing and ask for help when I need it, I've been granted a measure of power back. I have to bear in mind that the price of that power and freedom is eternal vigilance, to coin a paraphrase.

If that doesn't make sense, maybe it doesn't have to. It just has to work for me, for today.

Rock Solid?

The kind of guy you can set your watch by. Rain, sleet, snow or hail, he's there.

One trait that has become important to me in sobriety is that of being dependable; I was difficult-to-impossible to count on consistently in my active addiction and I feel the need to offset that now as often as I am able. It feeds my soul to be a man upon whom your can count to be there and to get the job done. I may not be on time (frankly, I'm often late) but you'd have to cut my head off before I would no-show, and even then I'd probably show up with my head tucked under my arm like a football, ready to rock and roll.

This dependability is a great thing on many levels, except when it is coupled with my tendency to never say no to helping. It's a fact that I feel indebted to this world for my years of acting like a donkey, and I've programmed myself to take advantage of every single opportunity to use my experience to try and benefit others. I over-commit, dance my dance and at times wind up feeling a bit worn thin and unappreciated. Let's face it: I'm pretty much an all or nothing guy, which is owed to the central condition of my addictive nature.

I am of the high-output, high burnout sort; I give and go and give some more and at times wind up bitter and battered before I decide to de-commit and withdraw. I am often driven by a fear as old as I am: that of not leaving a significant enough mark on the world to be remembered, much less worth remembering. This fear was only magnified during those time when I realized just how mortal I was- my wreck, my dad dying young and just by paying attention to the goings-on in the world around me. I have one chance to be significant and one opportunity to leave my mark in a way that matters, and I will often drive forward towards that at the expense of my health, relationships and happiness.

What I seek now is the middle ground, because I can't continue to pour out so much of myself while being poured into by others so little. It isn't possible to sustain. I get sick and tired of being sick and tired, much in the same way I was by the end of my drinking and using days. I must admit there's a high I get from feeling needed, but the comedown is pretty unforgiving. I love to feel useful, but hate feeling used and those unfortunately go hand-in-hand far too often.

In truth, there's a powerful tendency in my mind towards self-destruction. It's SO TEMPTING to just start blowing stuff off and being irresponsible just to shake things up. My status quo has become being Johnny on the Spot, and my mind rages against status quo and routine because I get bored and grow restless. My mind has started crawling with a boiling sort of itchiness, so I want to screw it all up to make things interesting. Think of it as that part of my identity wanting to commit suicide so the rest of my identity can re-invent itself again. I'm restless, irritable and discontent- hallmarks of the addict alcoholic - so I desperately want to do something destructive and insane to turn it all on its' head.

I am saying "no" to far too many valuable things most every time I say "yes" to something without weighing the cost. I owe it to myself, my sobriety and semi-sanity, my wife, our marriage and happiness to consider things in a different way than I have. Something has to change for me, and it has to change inn a way that doesn't just nuke all the progress I've made in just over 6 1/2 years of sobriety.

Challenge accepted.

Wherever You Go, There You Are

If nothing changes, nothing changes. Simple, practical truth.

In addiction recovery, it is often strongly recommended that you change your "playmates, playgrounds and playthings," which is a reference to changing the places where and people with whom you spend time on a regular basis. This is a sound strategy, because you obviously cannot keep doing the same things the same way with the same folks and expect anything to be different. That's not to say that you have to totally turn your back on everyone from your past, but you do have to be mindful of both how and how often you are spending time with people with whom you used to "run around."

External influences can also be triggers; people, places, circumstances and experiences can all cause the proverbial switch to flip, and then that old familiar craving kicks in and you find yourself with only a few options for how to proceed. The more you can recognize those things and minimize their occurrence, the better your chances of avoiding a confrontation with your darker impulses.

The rub is that no matter where you go or who you are with, it is still "you" that you're ultimately having to deal with and keep in check. Your thought, words and actions are your responsibility and you are accountable for them. You are the constant in every situation in your life; with this in mind, you have to be willing to look to yourself first if things aren't going the way you think they should.

You also are the first (and last) line of defense against your own unhealthy thinking and have to be both self-aware and ready to self-correct. You have to be even more vigilant in this pursuit than you are in the effort to stay out of potentially difficult circumstances, because the key to surviving those circumstances clean and sober is right between your ears.

If you have yourself in the right mental and spiritual condition, you don't have to fear going into places or being around people that made your heart skip a beat in the early days of your recovery. If you don't, you must realize there's no place that is safe enough to save you from yourself. Your first responsibility is to yourself and your sobriety and you must act accordingly every time you're able.

Taking Inventory

It is a valuable thing in this life to be willing to consistently take a look at oneself in the mirror and honestly, earnestly evaluate where the person looking back at you stands.  It is both a difficult and worthwhile exercise and one that we far too often do not undertake. We get busy and things are going well and everyone loves us so why mess with a good thing, right?

For an addict, this regular self-evaluation is a necessary component of a healthy recovery. It is often gritty and grimy and difficult; it requires rigorous honesty and a dedication to seeing our own roles in any situation, especially when we feel we have been gravely wronged and couldn't have possibly been a contributor to the negativity. It's much easier to blame and get upset at others for perceived injustices and allow that to turn into a resentment. That resentment will simmer, fester and boil until it spills over and we are left to clean up the mess- 99 times out of 100 the "cause" (I use that term loosely, because we are almost always the cause of our resentments because we don't address the issue immediately) has moved on so far and fast that the aftereffects couldn't be further from their minds because they aren't aware of our wound in the first place.

It is comparatively more natural to look at ourselves when things aren't going well, when others have seemingly abandoned us and success feels out of our reach. It is often these times which bring us back to our roots and compel us down a path of right thinking and acting, but one has to question whether or not these trials could've been avoided by simply being more diligent about checking in with ourselves. Had we established a routine of regular, honest self-evaluation, it is reasonable to think that we very well may have been able to head many of these situations off at the pass.

I can say from my own experience that the period of time when I finally made the decision to get a sponsor and work the steps brought about the most freeing thing I have experienced in recovery: the opportunity to sit down with my personal inventory and go over it with said sponsor. It was as though a ten-ton weight had been taken from my head and I felt as joyous and alive as I ever had. It felt like my slate had truly been set back to zero and that I was free to truly move forward unencumbered.

It would be reasonable to ask, then, if that experience had such a profoundly positive effect on me, why I am not more enthusiastic about having a smaller version on a regular basis by taking my own inventory frequently? There are answers to be sure, but nothing that rightly justifies my lack of diligence. It is too easy to let things of this nature slip when life has me running and gunning, and it is not the least painful process through which a person might go. There is reward on the other side of the discomfort and of that I am certainly aware.

What keeps you from looking honestly at yourself? What would you gain by doing it more often? How would your perspective change if it was more often influenced by honest self-evaluation and reflection?

Courage

All credit due to Brene Brown for inspiring this post. If you’ve not read any of her work on guilt, shame, fear and courage you should consider doing exactly that. The insight she offers may just set you free in a new and beautiful way.

In my younger days, I might have defined courage as more of a physical expression of a person’s lack of fear, like being willing to do something reckless in spite of danger. Now that I have a bit more living under my belt I know that real courage is typically something very different; I believe that true courage comes in many forms and most of the time has nothing to do with anyone’s willingness to do something foolish without regard to the consequences (although it could at times be part of the equation). Courage and vulnerability are strange-but-true bedfellows. What greater courage than to step forward at your most vulnerable? You know the risk, yet step forward anyway.

In the life of an addict, we are at our most courageous when we allow our true selves to emerge in all of their vulnerability and we are at our strongest as we own our weakness. We gain courage by reaching our bottom and deciding that enough is enough. Reaching bottom is not a requirement for sobriety necessarily, but for a great many of the worst cases that’s what it takes for us to decide to change.

At no time in the life of an addict is he or she more vulnerable than at his or her lowest point, after all the things it took to get us there have forced our surrender.  It takes courage to make the decision to say “ENOUGH,” as well as to follow through with all the changes that must occur afterwards. We must not only retool our way of thinking, we must begin taking steps to rebuild our life in a way that will enable us to stay clean and sober- learn a whole new way of life.

Courage is facing ourselves at our worst without giving up on the man or woman in the mirror. Being at our worst isn't necessarily a statement about our physical condition as much as it is our mental, emotional and spiritual state. Courage is continuing to fight that battle after we've been hardest hit - smacked by guilt, shame and remorse over our choices. Courage is indeed getting up when you've been knocked down, but addicts have to take it a few steps further and acknowledge that we're the ones who knocked us off our feet- our choices and behaviors got us here. Courage to face self when self is the problem- that's something with which addict and non-addicts alike struggle daily.

Do you or I have the courage to face ourselves, our greatest fears, worries and insecurities? Maybe not at all or maybe not today, but when we know we are not alone it can help to bridge that gap. We are all in this fight, and just like with the rest of life, we are all in this together. Take heart, take courage and take aim at your opportunities. 

What Would Change?

I have seen many relapses in my (relatively) short time in sobriety and have often pondered the consequences or effects of a relapse in my life. What will happen? How will my life change? How will I change? Let’s look at each of these questions and drill into an honest answer.

1.       What will happen if I relapse?

This scenario has truthfully played out in my mind hundreds of times, in passing thoughts or in response to stressful situations. Without fail, it proceeds thusly: somehow I am convinced that I should forget everything I know about the inanity of the first drink for the alcoholic. I’m at no point operating under the false assumption that I’ve learned how to drink like normal folks; I never wanted to drink like a normal person from the very beginning. I am overcome with guilt and shame and begin to punish myself for that first drink with many, many more. I also become a recluse because I cannot face the literally hundreds of people who’ve come to know my sobriety as a fundamental part of who I am.

2.       How will my life change if I relapse?

The first thing is physically I become weak and sick. I go to bed earlier and wake up later and feel like crap in between. The drugs follow shortly after the drink and most likely I end up out of a job within two months (if I am lucky). I also become a recluse because I cannot face the literally hundreds of people who’ve come to know my sobriety as a fundamental part of who I am. I know that I am not out and about nearly as often these days, but I will become a ghost if relapse becomes a part of my story.

3.       How will I change if I relapse?

The positivity is gone. The desire to be of service to others vanishes. The fragile sense of self-worth becomes extinct. My life as I know it is over.

Now, I won’t say that there’s no way I could come back from this or that redemption would then be impossible. I will say that the odds are in favor of me drinking and drugging so hard, so fast that I don’t live longer than 6 months after I pick up again if it ever happens. My guilt would consume me and my shame would hang on my head like a lead weight. The life I would have left would consist of me being alive, but not really living. The good things in my life would melt away and I’d be left in the company of my own self-loathing.

This thought horrifies me. I can honestly, unashamedly say it frightens me to my core. However, it is also not what I choose to use as my reason to stay clean and sober, although fear is indeed a powerful motivator. Today I choose to move forward, drawn by the beauty of my life rather than away from the dark reality of the possibilities if I relapse. I will also freely admit that if in the pivotal moment this fear is all that stands between me and the first drink or drug, I will use it to stay sober for that day. I won’t choose to stay there, because that fear too would consume me eventually and bear the same consequences.

I choose to move towards the light and towards the love today, and I also choose to not lose sight of what relapse would bring.