The Weight

Acceptance is the key.

Those in the rooms of recovery who are making a genuine attempt at sobriety oftentimes live by this mantra, and everyone who has entered one of those rooms has heard it. It is part of our new way of thinking and it is a cornerstone of that new and mentally health mindset. It is one of those statements whose meaning you begin to grasp when you look for the way to live “normally” and try to deal with life’s issues in a constructive way. For me it has meant peace and balance in the worst of times and an anchor in the rest.

A philosophy of acceptance can lead you many good places, but acceptance without due time and attention to processing and grief can provide only a temporary respite from the storm. By itself it can keep you sober, but if that is as far as you get you might be setting yourself up for relapse when the unresolved junk bubbles back up to the surface. It is the first step but truthfully should not be the only one taken, much like stopping the drinking, using or acting out behaviors is the required beginning of your walk down the path of sobriety but that alone is simply not enough.

Acceptance with no follow-up can be a temporary victory. As many of those in my life are aware, I've seen my share of difficulty both in and outside of the context of addiction or recovery. I have dealt with tragic loss and my own physical and mental limitations. It is only very recently that I came to realize that I had a great deal of anger and hurt that was seemingly lying dormant inside; these negative emotions popped back up in full force because I’d not allowed myself the space to work through feelings and emotions that resulted from some difficult circumstances.

That energy doesn't just go away. You have to respect your own need to think, feel and process in order to work through the difficulties and trials you will inevitably face.

A few days ago I heard something profoundly powerful in a twelve step meeting: sometimes you just have to sit and hurt. In dealing with the roller coaster of beginning a new career and learning of my sister’s death within an hour of each other, I haven’t ever really just allowed myself to sit and hurt because I am deathly afraid of getting stuck there. As with most things, I see it as very all-or-nothing and struggle to find moderation. I didn't really acknowledge my own feelings and by extension didn't really deal with them.

In this sense I have not progressed that much from my days as a raging alcoholic and ravenous drug abuser who was running from the pain of losing my father barely more than a year after I myself nearly died - I have still been avoiding my feelings and emotions rather than dealing with them.

Progress, not perfection.

This is another mantra of sobriety, and it may just be the one that gets me through today.

Panic

Many of the readers of this blog know that it's as much a valuable part of my recovery as it can be for anyone else's. I utilize my posts to help me process through sobriety’s challenges or insights shared in rooms of recovery. I like to be vulnerable in my posts in order to feel liberated from some struggles and to also hopefully help someone feel as though they are not alone. The theme of this post is a bit different than my usual but no less important and maybe even more applicable to those who aren't in some phase of addiction.

Several months ago I experienced something that left me pretty confused and more than a little alarmed. Driving one morning on my way to Nashville to work out of the office I began having difficulty breathing and my heart began racing. I started to feel myself about to black out. In and of themselves, these symptoms are cause for concern; I also happened to be going 70+ miles an hour down the interstate.

I pulled over on the shoulder and breathed deeply until I felt myself calming down and beginning to feel normal. Naturally it scared me, but not knowing exactly what had happened or what had caused it I didn't really seek help or tell may people. I truly wondered if I’d had a heart attack or a stroke. This was a powerful incident that I hoped would never repeat itself, but my addict instinct took over and I figured that if I ignored it, it would go away.

A few Saturdays ago I ventured out into the pouring rain and thawing icy snow-slush to head to Nashville for a commitment I had made earlier in the week. I got up early for my 9:30 appointment and waited until about 8 to leave so that the rain might melt as much of the snow and ice as possible. On my way on I-24, I hit several spots of standing water and my vehicle hydroplaned a bit.

I felt myself slipping into another one of those crazy “episodes” and this time the panic nearly won out as due to the snow and ice there was no place to pull over. I drove about twenty miles in some stage of this whatever-the-heck and pulled into a gas station parking lot just on the outskirts of downtown Nashville. I sat in my car for ten minutes or so just trying to collect myself; I then pulled into a parking spot, went inside the bathroom and threw up. Twice.

I proceeded (with caution) to my commitment and fulfilled my obligations. On the way home, the weirdness started to happen again so I stopped at a gas station, grabbed some food and water and sat until thought I might be ready to drive without risking my brain flipping out and it causing me to wreck. I managed to make it home and was in no rush to leave my house for the next few hours. Or days. Or maybe even a week.

Upon doing a bit of research I figured out that I had been having panic attacks; truth be told upon making this discovery I almost wished it had been a heart attack. I saw panic attack and immediately thought: “But, I don’t panic about stuff. I don’t freak out and I don’t really even allow myself to feel afraid often. What the hell? Does this mean I’m really a fake? Does this mean I've turned into a sissy? Who have I become?”

I questioned many things about myself before I allowed it to sink in that this was a reaction over which I had zero control. I remembered that some years ago after my (horrible, awful, no good very bad) wreck I was diagnosed as having post-traumatic stress and that it was something that could maybe pop back up sometime.

I sought out a bit of additional support in the form of therapeutic treatment - it goes without saying that medication is not an option that as a recovering addict I will readily take (if there is no other choice I will at least give it some more thought before I say no) but therapy is something in which I believe and I know that it works for many people. I am in the very beginning stages of wading through the layers of what may be going on, but I feel good about our direction and the topics we are addressing.

Believe me when I say that our first hour-long session brought up more than one topic that could be the basis of a future post, but for now I will keep them where they are and continue the work in front of me.

Friendship

The path of friendship can be especially winding for an addict and at times morseo once in recovery. You see, we are told quite often that we have to change our “playmates, playgrounds and playthings,” meaning we must not simply return to life as normal while attempting to no longer drink, drug or act out. We must change our way of life along with our way of thinking and neither task is either easy or painless.

If our drug of choice is alcohol, we pretty obviously cannot regularly go hang out in bars and you typically find pretty quickly that the “friends” who accompanied your “good times” aren’t too interested in watching movies or going for a run. They may or may not have the same drinking problem you do, but your change in lifestyle requires the same of no one else. Some folks will stay and many folks will drift out of your life; they leave with no malice but they probably feel that they don’t really have much in common with you any longer.  

The parallels with any other manifested addiction are obvious – many of the people who partook with you probably won’t want to hang out with you after that partaking is out of the picture, and that is fine. It is their choice and there is little that can be done about it shy of using or acting out again, and then their reborn loyalty will not be enough to shield you from the inevitability of consequences.

You begin to make new friends who are both fellow recovering addicts and “normals.” It is a unique day indeed when you realize that you have an entire segment of friends that have never known you as an active addict. It can also be scary - those folks have only a limited appreciation of how far you have come and can often laugh off your “war stories” as hilarious hijinks more of a comedic nature than the blood and bone desperate sickness that it truly belies.

It can be hard to be close to many people. It is difficult to begin a new life as an adult and make a whole new set of friends. The beautiful thing about this new life is that we are no longer strictly self-seekers whose selfishness smothers our every good impulse. Much like in most of our sober undertakings, an addict makes a heckuva great and loyal friend. It is in our new nature to be of service, humbly grateful and to be rigorously honest.

It is an amazing gift for new people to be willing to become our friends in spite of our past. The gracious warmth of understanding, unconditional friendship is almost overwhelmingly good. It is humbling and means an untold amount to us. Most days I still cannot fathom what so many of my newest old friends see in me but they are truly among my life's greatest blessings. While they may not have known me as the self-destructive force of yesteryear, they might in fact know me as my truest self. I am not a lying, manipulating ball of self-loathing falsity. I am genuinely who I am, and I'm pretty okay with that today.

For those who were able to weather the storm of our insanity and remain our true friends in our sobriety the payoff in gratitude is unable to be quantified. You stuck by our side when we least deserved it and you will never truly know what that means. You saw us walk through the fire and come out transformed on the other side of our awakening.  Your willingness to stick with us is probably one of the fundamental things that made this all doable.

Humankind was meant to live in community. The addict is not different and like most things for us the need is probably magnified. Thanks to all the old and the new friends for being willing to walk this winding path beside us. We never know where it may go, but the fact that we aren't alone makes all the difference.

I Can't Go Back

Everyone in recovery, from that newcomer who picks up their 24-hour chip at a local AA meeting to the seasoned “Old Timer” with 20+ years of clean time has their moments of craving. I’ll grant you that they become less frequent over time, but for the addict they never completely disappear. There will always be the memory of the fun and the escape and sometimes that memory is enough to drown out the screams of logic that remind you of the days after, the legal fees and the shabby employment record. 

When we lose track of the things that brought us to the breaking point we can lose sight of how much different things have become. We forget the day-to-day, minute-to-minute misery of the spiritual malady we sought to cure with the main thing making it worse.

If I told you today that I never had fun drinking and drugging I would be lying, and lying isn't in my MO any longer. I have memories of some very fun misadventures and hilarious stories for days. I have my moments today of considering just how much fun it could be to drink or use again; some days it’s as though I can taste the whiskey and cocaine and it actually makes my heart beat a bit faster. The smallest segment of my consciousness tries to tell me that I could do it again.

Then the weight of everything that comes with picking up and acting out comes crashing down upon me. I remember once more just how sick I was- I hated myself and most everyone else nearly every waking minute. I had a laundry list of failings and hurts that were all your fault and I complained about them to anyone who would even act like they were listing. I became a terribly negative person and I was truly spiritually dead. I didn't really live for the moment as much as I lived for the buzz. I was grateful for nothing and resentful of everything. Envy, anger and guilt were my closest friends and were with me every moment.

I was empty. I had fun but I had no happiness.  I had friends but I had zero self-worth. As much fun as I might convince myself another drink or drug may be, the cost of returning to that old way of thinking and living is far too much to pay. I had no hope. I had no purpose. I had no joy and felt no love that could compare with that which I feel today. When viewed through that honest lens, the choice makes itself.

I am blessed to be living the life I’d always imagined and I do what I must today to stay here. That involves not picking up or acting out as well as paying specific attention to my gratitude, spirituality and mental and physical health. I must be of service to my fellows and I must do the next right thing every time I get the chance. When I am wrong or do wrong, I must admit it and set it right as soon as possible. I must be sure that I am not the center of my own universe and I must love others even when they are unlovable. If I do all of those things today, I may just make it.

I must do all of those things because I simply can’t go back to the way things were. 

Death and the Addict

Addiction and death are by no means an odd coupling. For so many of us, our path to this end is accelerated by our all-consuming addictions. While not a great mystery that everyone at all times is moving towards our eternal home, the trip can be greatly accelerated by the physical, mental and emotional destruction of unchecked active addiction.

For many active addicts death is the peace we tirelessly seek and never find. Many an active addict has longed for death while lacking the wherewithal to make it happen; we've sought death without ever fully opening the door to welcome it ourselves. There is shelter and comfort somewhere if we can just leave this life behind, because anything has to be better than living like this. We don’t want things to stay the same but we feel that we lack the strength to change.

Wading through the pain of death in our immediate circle often brings the wish that it had been us instead. We beg, plead and cajole with whatever is out there listening for things to somehow be different, for us to somehow switch places with the loved one lost. It is SO CLOSE; that rest from the weariness of self-loathing and abuse for which we long. We are tortured by wishes to share fates with the departed. We get so lost in the “what ifs” and “whys” that we never take the time to accept and make peace with what is.

We then settle into a more determined pattern of self-destruction under the guise of getting over it. Our coping mechanism is in reality a determined avoidance behind the mask of whatever buzz we can create. We tell ourselves that if we don’t think about it, it won’t be able to hurt us. We bury our heads in the sand and do our best to maintain the façade of “dealing with it the best way we know how” which, of course is to not deal with it at all.

At some point the walls come down and we grieve and attempt to process through things; predictably the active addict becomes mired in the abyss of use and abuse and the recovering addict does what it takes to avoid this at all costs. The drugs, drinking and behaviors are our go-to hiding place; we don’t develop the effective means of dealing with adversity because we run to our coping mechanisms and away from what we feel.

As with most everything, the key for the addict is acceptance (not resignation). We must accept that things are exactly as they are and as our program tells us, they are exactly as they should be. We must accept that we might not know why and that we don’t have to in order to accept what has happened. We must accept that life must move forward and that death is simply a part of life, regardless of the timing.

Every time we become aware of the death of another we are touched by memories, and if we choose to allow it haunted by regrets. Every ounce of our reaction to any of life’s happenings is a choice. We always have a choice. 

Raise Your Rock Bottom

Most (if not all) of the people who will read this post have an understanding of the addict’s rock bottom: the set of circumstances which signal the lowest a person is willing to go before they acknowledge that their life has to take a drastic turn. Most addicts have at least a vague awareness of the concept and may or may not have considered where it may be found in their own lives. For many it is lower than they or their loved ones can fathom and that fact will cost them dearly.

For some it is homelessness, while for others it is the utter alienation of friends and family. Poverty, disease and significant legal trouble could all fall into the category as well. As often as any of those individual circumstances may represent rock bottom, a combination of some or all of the above is often what it takes. Multiple trips to institutions (jail or rehab) may be what it takes or perhaps the loss of one too many jobs or family members to the disease.   

I believe that in many ways our bottom is a choice much the same as picking up, drinking or acting out. We often feel as though we have no choice, that our addiction has forced us into a corner and we are at the mercy of its whimsy. I believe that often we as addicts conveniently scapegoat our disease and at times give it far too much power in our lives once we have identified and are addressing it. If we are honest, how many of us in recovery now were totally blindsided by the fact that we had a real problem when we hit our bottom? I’d venture a solid guess that none of us were truly surprised by our addiction although we may have been surprised that it caught up with us the way it did.

The fact is that our bottom boils down to a simple line we've drawn that marks the point where life is too painful to remain the way it is. We draw that line and we can raise it. You have the power to raise your rock bottom by simply wanting more for yourself and more from this life. You have to become willing to admit that enough is enough before it becomes far too much. It shouldn't take multiple attempts although for nearly all of us that is part of our story. I myself made two half-hearted (at best) attempts to stop or "manage" my drinking and drugging with no sustained success.

In all honesty my rock-bottom was almost fortuitously high; I hadn't managed to destroy a marriage or family and I hadn't been to prison or killed anyone. I’d never been homeless and truly never went without for long at all. My mind was made up about the severity of my problem a few years before I decided to do something about it. I was willing to accept a sub-par existence because I never realized I was meant for more. I refused to love or value myself enough to raise my rock bottom.

If you find yourself wondering if you have a drinking, drugging, eating or behavioral problem the chances are solid that you do. ”Normal” people don’t sit around wondering if they are an addict and normal people don’t have others in their life that ask them the same question. Has your behavior caused you to lose more than it has ever benefited you? Do you have fun but rarely find yourself happy? Is escapism more your everyday M.O. than your vacation philosophy? In your own mind, is your life really worth living the way that it is?

Think about it and know for yourself with certainty on which side of the line you stand. Act accordingly. Value yourself enough to want more than existence - allow yourself to have a life. 

Starting Over From the Bottom

It’s fairly common knowledge that a person must hit his or her own ‘rock bottom’ before they can truly begin to take steps toward a life free from the obsession of addiction. What isn't so common is a real understanding of what it means to begin building a life again from the ground floor up. There are lots of repairs to be made before we can really start to make forward strides. A construction metaphor is almost too obvious here, but the parallels cannot be denied.

Foundation is key and that’s where we start. Twelve step programs begin with acceptance of the problem and acknowledging that there is some higher power to whom the problem must be turned over, as we have proven that we cannot handle it ourselves. Then the addict is caused to undertake a spiritual house cleaning and move forward with making amends to those harmed, which often requires a great deal of time and emotional energy (and probably money). All of these thoughts and actions can be likened to pouring or reinforcing the foundation of a house; this gets the accounts back out of the red, reconciles the past and enables us to look to the future.

Once we have squared all accounts, we must focus on growth and moving forward.  This life is a wonderful, breathing, moving thing but some constants must remain steady and we as addicts must remain anchored to them for our own sake. We must always seek to expand or deepen our spirituality in whatever form resonates with the individual. Spirituality and religion are not actually the same and cannot be universally lumped together though they may be the same for some individuals. We must not pick up or act out. We must not be dishonest or keep secrets. We must not give reason for any guilt, shame or remorse to creep into our lives. We must not harbor resentments, no matter how much the world tells us we are justified. We must always do the next right thing every chance we get. We must remain grateful.  

We must remain patient in our recovery, both early on and as we begin to have “a few twenty-four hours” under our belts. We didn't descend into the madness immediately upon the first drink, drug or “incident” and we cannot expect that the rest of the world will be immediately placed at our feet once we get truly clean and sober. It takes time and effort to rebuild a life that was once in a state of complete and total ruin. We have destroyed so much through our active addictions and we must humbly seek to rebuild our lives in due time, rather than our time and we must accept that fact and be at peace with it.

The practice of a regular and rigorous evaluation of our thoughts, words and actions is absolutely necessary; the more often, the better. This keeps the house clean. We must recognize our wrongdoings and quickly move towards apology and rectifying the situation. Once we have committed to the path of right living we cannot think that we will be successful if we go on autopilot.

Our lives will begin to be restored physically, spiritually, financially and relationally. Some things will happen quickly and others come more slowly. All will come to us in due course if we honestly and earnestly work for them.

We must also realize that some things may never again be restored- these can be relationships, wealth or status. We have to accept that. Those things are then just folded into the pages of our story as new chapters become written in the here and now. This is our new normal; our new life requires that we not dwell on what has been lost, but rather focus on all we have gained. It’s not easy, but it is always worth it.