Coming to terms

I like anniversaries of things. They are milestones - markers in time against which I judge both progress and failure. In a couple of days, it will be the anniversary of the second to last time I ever drank. That was October 5, 2005. It probably seems insignificant, or like something I wouldn't want to remember - however, it is actually critical that I never forget what this night was like. The second to last time I ever drank matters to me greatly, as does the last night I ever drank. The second to last night, was the night that landed me in AA. The last night I ever drank, is the night that kept me there.

As I mentioned, I have been talking to someone new - or I guess I should say - someone who is just trying to figure it all out. It is fascinating actually to be on this side of it because I remember, and very vividly, what it was like to come into AA. A friend from ACOA who was sober 12-stepped me. It took a few weeks - almost a month. A month of conversations that took place mostly on email - me trying to figure it out, much like this friend is, and him just guiding me through the process as I tried to identify and come to terms with what was and wasn't true about me.

The fascinating thing about this process - of me coming into AA, of realizing the truth about myself, of admitting to it - is that I have a written record. I've saved every recovery related email that I exchanged with this person. From the very first email in which I questioned my behavior - right up until, well, today. Between all of the emails and this blog that I have been writing for a year now, I have the story of my recovery. Nearly every last detail of everything I thought or felt or did in this process called recovery is recorded. It is vivid, it is descriptive, it is incredibly honest, it is painful, depressing, sad, heartbreaking, hopeful, inspiring, and amazing all at the same time. I am incredibly grateful that I have this journal/story-like version of my sobriety and my recovery. I feel lucky to have that.

Every once in a while I pull those emails out and read them - around now, around my sobriety date, around my birthday. What was I doing, what did it feel like, what did I think about it? Have I changed? She and I have been talking about what it's like to come to terms with the truth about yourself - to see your past behavior in a different light, in a more honest light (which is what you see as the denial lifts away - you see the truth), and what it is like to admit that truth about yourself. What it is like to say I am an alcoholic, what it is like to admit it, to accept it, to surrender to it. So what I'm posting below is really for the benefit of my friend who is trying to figure it all out. This is just a very tiny excerpt of hundreds of emails.

October 25, 2005
"I started reading the big book from the beginning - I'm on page 38, I have 126 to go until the stories start - and I've already found things that pertain to me. I'M FREAKING OUT NOW. I don't want to read this book anymore. I can't breathe. I feel like I am going to have a panic attack. How many times have I said - once I start, I can't stop and I don't know why? And how many times have I said I drink more than I want to all the time? When I say that - why don't you - say - HELLO HELLO HELLO. "Potential problem" here.

Okay breathe. I don't think I have a problem like other people have a problem, BUT, I think I might have the potential for a problem, if not a teeny weeny very small sized problem that I really wasn't aware of until I decided to stop. Cause I can't stop thinking about it and I just want to go do it, for some unknown reason, shit, I don't know. I can't even explain it to you. But it's like I just have to do it - I am honestly surprised that I have made it 3 weeks and that just sounds really bad. I don't think "normal" people feel this way or would have this much trouble. I personally would prefer to rely on the opinions of others? Do you think I have a problem? Do I sound like I have a problem? I think I might have a tiny sized problem. Although - I have to say, I am managing it rather well."

He wrote me back and later that day I responded:

"Okay, I would say, objectively, the person you are talking about has a problem, perhaps not a huge one, but a problem nonetheless. But I don't see how this could have happened. I HAVE BEEN SOOOOOOOO CAREFUL AND SO OVERLY AWARE. This is making me feel sick. I DON'T WANT TO HAVE THIS PROBLEM. I HATE MY MOTHER AND HER MOTHER. I HATE THIS RECOVERY SHIT. I WAS BETTER OFF BEFORE WHEN I WAS LIVING IN OBLIVION. Okay, I don't mean any of that - I mean about recovery or before. Cause I am way better off now than I was even a month ago - cause a month ago - I was too blind to even realize that I might be headed in a bad direction.

I told my brother this evening before the meeting that I was freaking out about this after I started reading that damn book. His jaw dropped, initially, and then he said duh - quit drinking. DUH - QUIT DRINKING. DUH. Because I'd been lying to him you know about my recent activities, until tonight. I told him I was having a problem stopping and that it was not easy. And he was just standing there looking at me as if to say - are you a fucking idiot? Get it together. NOW.

Why is this so hard? Can I say - okay maybe I shouldn't drink, but not actually admit to having a problem? Cause the thing is, I would feel bad admitting that. Or can I say - I only have a wee sized problem - so not really a problem.

Wow am I hung up on this, aren't I? To be totally serious for a second. This is what I think - I think that I have a serious predisposition to having this problem and even though I have not had anything really bad happen I am headed in a bad direction and to the extent that I am having difficulty with this, with stopping, with controlling myself and wanting to drink for totally wrong reasons - then I do have a problem, though a mild one at this point. However not severe it might be, I want to stop before I can't stop. Seriously, I want to stop. I have sworn my entire life that I would not go down this road and I would never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever let this happen to me or hurt anyone in the way that my mother hurt us. I have promised myself that so many times. I have to stop while I can. I can't let this happen. I have to tell you, this is really scaring me - the way I feel, the way I feel such a lack of control, I'm really really scared."

The truth is, I laugh when I read these emails today - I laugh because it is so obvious to me that I am totally an alcoholic and that the things that I was doing and thinking at the time were so completely alcoholic. At the time though - I thought I could outsmart this disease. I thought that I had no so much knowledge and self-awareness that it simply could not be the truth about me. Because if it were, I had been completely blind. Admitting it was not easy. Even now sometimes, admitting it is not easy. I feel ashamed sometimes about it. There are times even now when I don't want this to be the truth about me, in a desperate kind of way, I don't want it to be the truth - but it is. It is the truth about me.

"But the actual or potential alcoholic, with hardly an exception, will be absolutely unable to stop drinking on the basis of self-knowledge." Big Book, page 39.

There are at least two ways to look at everything (and my higher power is laughing at me)

At least - there may even be three or four or five ways to look at the same situation.

I could be mad right now. Okay, I am mad right now. But I could have completely lost my mind and instead I am kind of sitting here laughing - laughing while mad and eating ice cream. A lot of ice cream. And I have to say - this is progress. It is - because a year ago - I would have lost my mind. I literally would have lost my mind. Two years ago - I'd be in the bar right now telling myself that I deserve a drink, or 2 or 7 - you know, because my life is so hard and shitty things happen to me.

My night - tonight, it was supposed to end in bubble bath and relaxing. Instead, my almost brand new fucking car, fucking died, while I was fucking driving down Halsted. An hour and a half and $220 dollars later, I am sitting at my house, seriously, laughing almost hysterically, while my car sits at the towing company waiting to be towed to the dealer. The towing guy probably ripped me off - I don't know how the hell much it is supposed to cost to tow a car in Chicago. But I had to pay to tow it twice because my dealer doesn't have night time drop off. Whatever.

Okay, as an initial matter - I will never drive a Volkswagen again, I will probably never drive an Audi or a Mercedes - cause I hate VW - and I make sure that every one I know, knows this. I make sure - I tell everyone. I tell everyone how horrible they have been to me. I have cursed these people out on multiple occasions - the dealer in Michigan, the dealer in Chicago, the company, their customer service people. I drive a brand new car - how many times has it broken? 10 at least. Thank God this is a lease and I get to give this piece of shit back. I've even threatened them under Michigan lemon law - I threatened them to the point where the customer service person told me he was no longer permitted to talk to me. I wrote them a letter - telling them I want a new fucking car and faxed it to the head of the company in Michigan. I have talked to just about everyone I can there - until finally some asshole told me there simply wasn't anyone else for me to talk to - he actually tried to tell me that there isn't anyone who handles these matters. There isn't anyone there who handles car defects and replacements? You don't have a designated person to talk to the crazy people who call threatening to sue you? Yeah fucking right asshole. Now I am on a mission and I'm pissed and I will make sure to make some one's life a living hell there until they replace my fucking car. No one here handles these matters my ass. We'll see about that, as I sue them under the lemon law. Watch me you mother fuckers. (Okay - so you all are getting a taste of how I really am, ha ha). Now you know why my "ex-husband" went away quietly when he asked me for money upon me telling him to get out...I said I dare you to fuck with me and promptly produced a spreadsheet of all the money he owed me.

Some might say that's not sober behavior - threatening the car company with lawsuits etc., but I don't care because now I'm mad and frankly, the way I see it - they do in fact owe me something. This is bullshit. IT'S A NEW FUCKING CAR. I have had more trouble with this car, than any piece of shit junker car I've ever driven. Now I am not just a little mad, I'm so mad that I'm not going to be able to sleep. What would my sponsor say - you are only harming yourself by being this angry - no one at the car company even knows (nor do they care frankly). Yeah well, you just wait. You just wait.

There are two ways to look at this though. I could be really mad, pissed about the $220 dollars that I didn't feel like throwing away, the inconvenience of not having a car to drive tomorrow or Monday (God forbid, right?), the annoyance of having to deal with it, and the inability to sleep.

Or, I could instead be grateful that when my car decided to die this evening, I was on Halsted, at a light - with relatively little traffic around me and no one behind me, in a well lit area with lots of people around. And that my car didn't die, while driving 80 down the expressway with traffic whizzing by me on all sides with no where to pull over - causing an accident - wrecking my car and injuring someone, possibly myself. And that I knew what to do - I called someone that I knew would answer, and she got me the number of a towing company, she even offered to go way out of her way to pick me up for the meeting in the morning we had planned to go to, the towing guy came 20 minutes later, meanwhile I talked to my sponsor while I waited and now here I am. See how that all worked out.

The reason God is laughing at me is this - this morning I was at the bank - I was moving money around so that I can pay a student loan off on Monday. The banking guy was talking to me about investing and we were talking about amounts - he said, well you could think about how much money you like to have on hand in case of emergency - you know in case your car breaks down or something like that. These are the words that came out of my mouth - oh, yeah, no, I drive a brand new car, I'm not worried about that, nothing will happen. How many times did I say this car has broken? 12 hours later, here we are. This is why I am sitting here laughing. Because it is just so fucking ironic.

You know what it is making me think - God is paying more attention than I thought. Maybe he or she is just bored up there and needed a laugh, you know, because I haven't done anything particularly stupid lately. In any event, I'm going to bite my tongue next time. People always say if you pray for patience - patience isn't what you get, you get presented with an opportunity to practice patience. I can't for the life of me figure out what the lesson is in this - what is my higher power trying to tell me here with such an irony?

As it slips between my fingers

Can you even imagine - throwing it away? What that would be like - to throw away two years of hard (and I do mean hard, and did I mention extraordinarily painful) earned sobriety? It is hard for me to believe that there could be a thing I couldn't get through sober - or that I wouldn't want to get through sober. After all, I managed to move t0 another state, change jobs (and it's a stressful job), get married, live in a dysfunctional relationship, while surviving breast cancer, and then get divorced - all in my first year of sobriety. So can you imagine throwing it away and starting over - and for what? A night, a drink, two, three, one night of obliteration? That is assuming the next day you walk back into an AA meeting - which seems less and less likely the longer I stay sober. I drank once after coming into AA - on day 35. I have a hell of a lot more to lose now than I did on day 35.

I'm still reeling from last night. I just see how easily it can slip between your fingers. I can understand how someone can show up and say they drank after 15 years and they don't know what happened. Of course it is possible to pinpoint exactly what led to it - but I understand what they are saying when they say that. When I imagine that happening to me - it feels just like that - like an accident almost. Like I would just order something as if it were no big deal. I know that it is a choice of course and everything AA that I do is meant to ensure that in that moment, like last night - I am able to make a right choice. But damn, how easily it would have been to just make the wrong one. It literally terrifies me. It terrifies me, because sometimes in those moments - the voice in my head - it isn't loud enough. The cunning, baffling and powerful part of this disease - as it refers to it in "How It Works," tells me in those moments that maybe it wouldn't be that bad to start over. Sometimes it's just a matter of which voice is louder in my head and honestly, last night, the voice telling me to be careful where my head was going - sounded more like a whisper.

You know what happened I think - I went into last night - thinking I've got this together. I can do this. This is easy - the staying sober part is easy, living is hard, but just not drinking is easy. No it isn't. Not all the time. I've been talking to someone new a lot - which is the best thing to keep you sober - I've been praying, reading - I do the things I need to do, or so I think. And then a night like last night, is well, it is humbling I guess. Maybe I have been lacking in humility lately. I honestly have to say that if it weren't for the woman I've been talking to this past week or so - and particularly the conversation we had yesterday via chat before I went out - I literally don't know if I would have stayed sober. I just can't say that I feel confident about that. It very well might be that this almost stranger who is very quickly becoming a good friend I hope, saved my sobriety last night. This is the program in action. This is how it works. You can't do this alone - as people always say - it is a "we program." We stay sober, I get drunk. Is it a coincidence that a friend put me in touch this woman who was looking for someone to talk to about ACOA (Adult Children of Alcoholics) on the day my mother called me to ask for money? I doubt it. I do think people show up in our lives reasons. I owe my life to so many people who have kept me sober over the past almost two years. My gratitude, it is overflowing.

Intersecting

Sometimes it feels like my worlds collide - like the different versions of myself can't exist in a room at the same time. I usually feel a degree of compartmentalization in my life. The work me, the sober me - they are not the same people. They don't do they same things or operate with the same degree of confidence. They exist in wholly different worlds and every once in a while these different versions of me intersect, momentarily. What happens when I have to be the lawyer me in a social situation, while sober? It can only be described as uncomfortable and awkward. In this particular situation, when my worlds intersect, I have neither the comfort of being a sober person at an AA meeting, nor the comfort of being in my office and great at my job. I have the discomfort of being me, and a not so confident me, and I am overly aware of just how uncomfortable it feels because I don't have alcohol to take the edge off.

Very rarely do I put myself in situations that trigger this level of discomfort. I just don't like to feel that uncomfortable. I stick to what I know - AA meetings and my job. My social life consists of mostly AA these days. I like it that way actually. It feels safe. Though I do think I need to venture outside of AA and back into reality here soon. I fail every time to fully appreciate in advance just how draining social situations that involve alcohol are on me. I go into it thinking - I haven't seen these people in a while - I've been sober long enough, surely I can handle a dinner without getting all fucked up in my head. Surely I can watch people drink all night and be unaffected. Surely I can enjoy dinner and not think about alcohol literally every single second of the entire dinner. Wrong. It's just not so. I think I probably spent at least 3/4 of today thinking about alcohol and how I wasn't going to drink any. You might think - well if you knew you weren't going to drink any, why did you spend 3/4 of the day thinking about it?

I went out to dinner tonight with some people I used to work with at a firm I worked at when I was in law school. I guess I would characterize these people as more my friends than colleagues, though I haven't seen them in a few years. They are people that I drank with, definitely, but I wouldn't say I drank a ton with them. They were more my friends than they were people I drank with. Yet I do associate them with alcohol in some ways - because they are friends from my previous life. There was drinking, like I expected. There was commentary, though light commentary on why I wasn't drinking, like I expected. There was a lot of talk about alcohol, like I expected.

I would be lying if I said I didn't think about it - well obviously, since I said above that I thought about it all day. I thought about what it would be like - what it would feel like to have that wave of ease come over me. I thought about how stressed I feel generally lately and what that relief would be like. I thought about what it would feel like to feel more comfortable in the situation, to feel more like myself or like I could be myself. That feeling of being uncomfortable in your own skin. I thought about it right down to what I would order, Frangelico, red wine, a mojito? All three? I even had the thought - but no one would know. No one would find out. I would even say that went so far as to contemplate ordering something. And though this thought was fleeting, I still thought it. That feeling that you get, when you drink - that is without a doubt my favorite feeling in the world.

There is a reason I stay out of these situations. It is next to impossible to endure one without my mind going there. My instinct, when I am uncomfortable, is to look for relief. Whenever I do have one of these experiences - it really scares me actually. By the time I get home - I usually feel like I've been run over by a truck. I just don't feel right for days. It just reminds me that this gift that I have - it is fragile. I realize how easily I could go there - just in a split second I might make the wrong choice. Now granted it's a lot easier to make the right choice after being in the program for two years, however, this is meaningless really when it comes to the power of this disease. And why would I ever even consider it at this point? Simply because I am an alcoholic. It's what I think about - how to get some artificial relief from myself.

Unfortunately - I tend to beat myself up for days after these situations. Thinking - I can't believe you thought about that. I can't believe you entertained it like that, fantasized about it, when you know better than to let your head go there...what if you had done it - what if you couldn't have stopped yourself? Have you lost your mind? Sometimes, though not always, when I am in these situations, I feel like I am playing with fire. I feel like my life is at stake when I am in these situations, and you know what, it is. It's a life and death choice that I make every day.

Sometimes I think that I am less an alcoholic than other people - my life doesn't look like my mother's for example. All it takes is one dinner like this to remind me that I am not immune. The point anyway though - is that I didn't drink. I might have thought about it, entertained the idea, fantasized about what I would order, imagined what it would feel like, but I didn't do it.

The fall makes me sad for other reasons

The fall and the spring - the times of year that evoke the most emotion - and the times of year that I most associate with unresolved issues in my life. The spring because it is my birthday - that time of year when I engage in the greatest reflection - where I look at my life and all of the ways that it doesn't meet my expectations. The fall makes me sad for other reasons. I associate the fall with family - I don't know why. I think of the holidays, the smell of wood burning in fireplaces, hot apple cider, sitting around with family, playing games or cards, laughing, remembering - these are not my memories. Where did they come from? They are just the things that I think of when I think of fall. Can you miss something you've never had? I think so.

Thanksgiving and Christmas have always been the times of year that I have dreaded the most on some level - there is hope followed by disappointment, followed by hope and then more disappointment. Eventually there is simply anticipation, followed by disappointment. The disappointment is unwavering. When I was a kid I dreaded these things because of the behavior of my father's family and because my mom was drunk and embarrassing on nearly every occasion. As an adult I dread it because I have no where to go to celebrate these times of family togetherness. No real family to share it with.

Until a few years ago - I choose to participate in the dysfunction that is my father's family for things like Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. I participated because I didn't know what else to do. It's almost like it doesn't matter how horrible it is, or how judgmental they are of you - you keep going because you just desperately want something that resembles a family. You just settle I guess. It's just like in other areas of my life - I'll settle for what I can get, just to say that I have something. Every year it is different and painful. A couple of years ago I decided not to go anymore. This was a step in the right direction I think - choosing not to participate was a healthier choice. I feel bad, in some ways, because I don't think my father understands. And I feel angry because all these years I have always thought that my father's family has simply felt justified in their treatment of us and my mother. They've always just believed that they were right by pushing my mother out of the family and treating her terribly. My mom is obviously not a saint - but their behavior when I was a kid was uncalled for and unacceptable. It was inexcusable. So I choose now not to excuse it by showing up and pretending.

Last year a friend, not a close friend, but a friend, took me to her parents' for Thanksgiving. I would otherwise have spent it alone. I think she felt sorry for me. A couple of years ago - I did spend Christmas alone actually. I sat on my couch in my pajamas all day and then ate spaghetti for dinner - it was the only thing I really had in the house and I hadn't bothered to go to the store in time. Last year I spent Christmas Eve at my sister-in-law's parents' house and then drove home Christmas morning - I didn't want to intrude on their otherwise family occasion. I know that I am always welcome there and they have never been anything but really nice and caring and welcoming to me - but I think I will always feel like I just don't quite belong there.

I feel like a charity case - I'm the extra person that shows up to dinner because someone felt sorry for me. I don't want to be that person. You would think on the one hand that it would make me feel good to have somewhere to go - and I am grateful for people's kindness, however, it stings in a way, almost more - to show up at someone else's house and listen to someone else's stories, and think about how you don't belong there. People always say - you get to make your own family - choose the friends you want to hang out with on the holidays. Everyone I know goes home to their families or has a family of their own. And frankly, I guess I haven't been that good at forming close friendships since living here. I know a lot of people. None of them know me. I'll save that for another post.

My relationship with my mother has come to a deafening halt I think. I have contemplated this moment all my life - the moment that I would no longer feel weighed down by her. And I have always known that I would be okay - that I would be absolutely fine if my mother never spoke to me again. That isn't the part that makes me sad. It doesn't sadden me that this woman, who thinks I am terrible anyway and always has, doesn't really want to be a mother to me or have much to do with me at all. It saddens me simply that she isn't someone else. If I am angry about anything, it is simply that I don't have someone else for a mother. The severance has been incomplete though. She called my brother, to see my nephew on the video chat - she never mentioned me or mentioned the money. My brother just said that she sounded sad. I am out from under her I think, but not free of her completely.

I am not sure what I'll do about the holidays this year. Thanksgiving I think I'll spend alone. Christmas I am worried about actually. I am close to my brother and sister-in-law and one cousin. And I know that I will see my brother and sister-in-law in December, when they are in town, but I will only get limited time with them. They have so much family on her side and so many people to see - I always feel like the one that gets left out. Of all of the sister-in-laws, I am the least important, I will see them probably the least. It makes me sad, because they are all I've got. But I can't be selfish I guess.

I will see my dad briefly around Christmas - probably with my brother, sister-in-law and nephew. My dad will write me a check, right in front of me - because he lacks the forethought I guess to purchase a card and write the check out in advance - and buying me an actual gift would be unthinkable. I always want to say dad, just keep the money - this isn't even what this occasion is supposed to be about and I don't need it anyway. It's like he knows no other way to express whatever it is he feels for us - it is terribly unclear actually. A good example of my father is the following - I think I posted a story once about the Christmas that I actually purchased the card for myself, that my father gave me a check in. No wonder it seems that no one cares really. My dad asked me to purchase my own Christmas card. I guess I could have purchased a card that said all these wonderful things - how much he loved me and what a great daughter I am, and how proud he is - I just bought a blank one.

That same year, that I purchased the cards (I also purchased my brother's card from my dad), I purchased my brother and sister-in-law's Christmas gifts from our mother on the Internet with my mother's credit card, right in front of them. We laughed about it. But it wasn't really funny. On the topic of card buying - it's always an interesting experience when I have to purchase a card for one of my parents. I stand there in the card isle - nothing seems appropriate - none of the cards seem to apply to my situation. Do they make happy mother's day cards that apply to the circumstances in which I grew up? I stand there in the isle, and I never know whether to laugh or cry, so I laugh.

I am sad about the fall - more sad than normal. One might suggest that this is yet another example of my expectations gone afoul. Where did I ever get the idea that birthdays were supposed to be great and holidays about gathering with family and enjoying the time together? I'm not sure where I got those ideas.

What trying to forget about it looks like

I threw on some clothes and a hat and went to Target. I went there to buy water, a toothbrush and soap. I didn't need anything. I wandered the entire store. Thirty-two dollars later, I cried in the parking lot. I drove home. I thought about what I would wear later and whether I would buy a new pair of jeans.

The real test of whether I care is how much effort I put into what I look like. You know - they say - you have to look nice everywhere you go to have any hope of finding anyone. I think Target is an exception. Any guy pushing a cart around Target has to be there with his significant other. But that's what people say - you shouldn't go to the grocery store in your pajamas. I always put way too much effort into what I look like when I go to weekend meetings. Weekdays I look okay because I look nice for work. But the test of whether I care or not, would be if I went to the meeting tonight wearing what I wore to Target. Then I would know that I didn't care. But instead I am contemplating a new outfit.

I like to be out and about in the early morning in Chicago - no cars on the road, no people. It's nice to feel like you are the only one out in a city of millions. I can see why people get up really early and go down the street for coffee. It is peaceful in the city early in the morning on a weekend. I like to walk over to State Street from my house. But today I think I'll just drive over there and park at my office. It is peaceful though, before the people come out.

I have to say, that I used to think a toothbrush was just a toothbrush - I've never been into the fancy ones. But today, I bought a kind of snazzy one (due to the limited supply available this morning) - and I have to admit, brushing my teeth with it was like a whole new experience. Seriously - kind of wild actually.

So I have this thing for trying anti-wrinkle products - to reduce the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles and to improve skins elasticity blah blah marketing blah. I am a total sucker for this because I am terrified of getting old. Why? Because I think that the older I get/look, the less likely I am to find someone. Do you notice a theme here? This should be the - I have no self-esteem and therefore date only assholes, can't seem to break myself of the pattern which makes me like myself less and by the way I am obsessed with worry over never finding a guy who wants me - blog. But that would just be depressing. Anyway - I am trying 3 right now. I know - I should try them one by one for say 4-6 weeks at time. I should be an official product tester. People laugh at me if I tell them that I try all these different products - they always say - but you don't have any fines lines or wrinkles. Aha - precisely - what if these products are working? I use these products on the same theory that many people believe in God. Just on the off chance that it turns out in the end that there happens to be a God, well, you will be better off if you believed in it. I can't stop using these products now - they might be effective. Stopping would be like the following, well sort of - I got an email from the hospital that I went through cancer treatment at - asking me if I wanted to participate in a study. It says - soy may help to prevent breast cancer/breast cancer recurrence. Are you willing to abstain from soy products for 6 months? Hell no. I'm going to eat it just in case.

I don't like to drive by the Greyhound station at night. Sometimes I forget and accidentally go that way on my way home from Target - when I spend a weekend night there wandering the isles.

Diet Coke with lime is good, but I can't drink the vanilla kind. I used to drink vanilla vodka with Diet Coke. Gag. There are certain things, flavors, that I will never be able to stomach again.

I have been getting some strange and interesting hits on my blog lately. I like to look at the statcounter and see what kinds of searches land people here. Thanks to my recent posts, apparently if you search "negative manipulative mother" you find me. And if you search things relating to dating in sobriety you find me too. God help you if you are newly sober and thinking about dating and you find this blog. God help you if you have been sober a while and are thinking about dating - especially if you are thinking about dating a guy in the program. In my experience, which has not been good - they are pretty much effed up. Now I suppose the same could be said about the women. I of course like to think that I am not all that effed up on the scale of effedupness.

Do you think honesty comes in degrees? Or is it all or nothing? Can I say I am 90% honest with my sponsor - or does that mean I am not honest at all? Is that like saying you are not 100% sober - in other words, it doesn't count? I may have to have a fessing up session with my sponsor here shortly. The sins of omission are eating away at my serenity. What serenity?

I think it may actually be the case that the more money you make, the less it seems like enough.

Have I been thinking about my mother or have I been able to forget about it? Only every other thought - in between every other weird thing that has gone through my head in the past half hour. I fluctuate between feeling okay about it and feeling bad about it. I haven't heard from her in a couple of days - and I may never again - I've thought about that possibility. And it's okay if I never hear from her again. But the fall makes me sad - that's for my next post...

What is this feeling?

It's a little something like being lost - or like you've lost a piece of you. You've lost a piece of your life. You don't want it back but something is definitely missing. Instead of your life, which is pliable, reshaping itself to fill in this once occupied space - there is just a hole. You have to fill it with something, because you can't stand an absence like that, the way you can't stand a feeling - the way you can't stand uncertainty. There was always drama and chaos, pain and rage, and God only knows what else involved in our relationship. I think she has been like a tornado in other peoples' lives at times. My mom told me today that she didn't know why she was talking to me, when it only made her feel worse.

That might be the story of my life and of my relationships - not just with her, but with men in particular. Why do I participate with this person who only hurts me and makes me feel bad - makes me feel as worse as my mother can - with this person who makes me feel like the most worthless thing in the world? I go back for more. I practically beg for it. I suppose on the theory that just once it will be different, and it never is. My relationship with my mother can only be described as one of both love and hate at the same time. That was the message I always got/get - I love you/I hate you. I love you, but.

My relationships with men follow this pattern. It is sickening really and not at all surprising. I've struggled with trying to break the pattern but my self-esteem has never quite been good enough to break it. I always find myself having the same relationship over and over, just with different men, with slight improvements every time, yet with the same underlying fundamental failure. I love you. I hate you. Come here. Go away. I want you. I don't want you. I keep trying. Trying not to be abandoned. Willing to do anything to keep myself from being abandoned. Tolerating the unthinkable and putting up with the unacceptable.

I can only hope that standing up to mother this time, once and for all, is the end of that pattern. Maybe it is the end of trying so hard, the end of feeling bad about myself, the end of tolerating people's bad behavior, the end of settling for less than I deserve. Maybe what I've needed all this time to change my relationships with men, is to change my relationship with my mother. At first I felt angry about the situation she has put me in, and then I felt sad, I still do, a little. Right now, I feel empowered.

There is somewhat of a hole here though. There is something that is missing. An absence in the shape of the space that she occupied.

This thing that I feel - it is like being lighter.

Standing my ground, while she whittles away at me

I told my mother no. She started crying, begging, pleading, begging. She did a little explaining - but I couldn't really make sense of it - only that she had lied - clearly - about some things she told me yesterday. I let the conversation go on far too long - something I am guilty of doing with her. I never quite seem to back out of a conversation with her before damage is done. Our conversations always head in the direction of recovery - me pleading with her - why don't you get it? Why don't you get help? Why don't you get sober? Why don't you go to a meeting? Why, why, why don't you get it? Why don't you see reality? WHY DO YOU NOT GET IT? WHY DO YOU FUCKING NOT GET IT? You fucking have a choice in this - why don't you get that? You are the cause of the misery that is your life - not me, not dad, not your mother - you. WHY DON'T YOU GET IT? I feel like I am banging my head against a wall.

I want her to get it. I need her to get it. What I want for me - is for her to accept responsibility. What I want for her is another chance. I want her to know that she doesn't have to be miserable. I want her to know what it's like to be happy. I need her to get it.

I probably said things today that I shouldn't have. Things that were harsh, but true - but probably didn't need to be said. I told her that if I gave her the money, it would mean the end of our relationship. I told her that I was done participating - that I was making a better choice for myself and choosing to no longer participate. It was very clear that if I would give her the money - she would rather have that than any hope of salvaging something between us. My mother would choose the money. Interestingly, she hasn't called my brother.

The were multiple phone calls. Multiple calls to my sponsor. My sponsor is really adamant that I stand my ground. If it weren't for her, I would have given in already. The only concession my sponsor offered was to tell her I would pay the bill directly to the creditor, provided she checked into a treatment program. She said no.

She said she guessed she always thought that you should help the people you care about. One time I confronted her about how she helps other people but has never helped my brother or I. Her response was - my friends tell me that I am such a caring, loving and giving person. I don't know why I'm not that way with my children. I don't know either.

She called me again, and left me a drunken voice mail - the content of which was how her demise has nothing to do with her being an alcoholic. Denial might be the most powerful thing I've witnessed - next to this disease of alcoholism.

I think she may literally lose everything she has. Why do I feel like the horrible kid she always told me I was? What makes me the most upset is that she believes that. She believes that I am a bad person - that I treated her poorly and inappropriately. She used to always say - I can't believe how horribly my children have treated me their entire lives. She probably believes that I am the most horrible person she has ever known. Why does that still affect me? Why isn't it enough that I don't believe that about myself? Does it make a difference how much money it is - does that affect how horrible of a person I am? If it were $500 - would it make me horrible - more horrible than if it were $5,000? She asked me for $2,000. It makes me feel worse that I can easily afford to give it to her, I just don't want to.

If anything, I feel more sad for her than I do angry.

The last straw

I'll start this story with gratitude for the fact that I am sober and that the misery that I am about to write about is not my misery - that the story I am about to tell, by the grace of God, will never be my story. It is my mother's story and her present descent into alcoholic misery and death, and I am powerless to stop it.

I have posted only a little about her and about my childhood. She is an alcoholic. She has been drinking since I was 2. She has never gotten help, never been to an AA meeting, never been sober. She is an angry, mean, bitter, resentful, negative, manipulative, lying alcoholic. I am not judging her, it is just a fact. I was the same person right before I came into AA. In fact, that is how I landed in AA when I did - I realized that I had become the very thing I had tried so hard not to be, which was like my mother.

She has basically treated me terribly my entire life. We have always had a horrible relationship. Today I am able to engage with her, but that's because I limit my interactions and pay attention to my part of the relationship as AA tells me to do. What I remember of my childhood is this - she drank, what seemed like every day. She passed out, what seemed like every day, by 5:30. My parents hated each other. They fought, they yelled, they screamed, they manipulated each other and pulled us into the middle of it. My mother lied about drinking while hiding alcohol in the bottom of two liter pop bottles in the basement. She lied and lied and denied all of it. She called me names and yelled at me. She used to tell me that I was the most selfish and ungrateful person she had ever known in her entire life (I was about 10). She used to tell me that no one ever did anything for me because they wanted to - they only did things for me because they had to or I forced them to. She used to tell me all the time that I was manipulative. She used to tell me all the time that she hated me and that I treated her terribly.

My parents didn't tell me that they loved me. They didn't hug me. They didn't play games with me or do anything with me really. I played alone in my room or out in the yard with my imaginary family - trying my best to avoid her. I had one friend - all my life, until I was 18 - I had one real friend. They were not emotionally supportive, they did not love us unconditionally - there was always a condition attached. My mother used to get drunk and fall down the stairs a lot, or fall in other places of the house and my brother and I had to take responsibility for her. I was afraid of both of them. That is what I remember of my childhood. My mother has never apologized. She has never taken responsibility for any of it or owned up to anything except for being an alcoholic (and though she admits it, she does not take responsibility for it). She has only ever blamed my father for her misery and her alcoholism - believing that someone else is to blame for all of it. Indirectly she has blamed my brother and I. If not for the whole of her life's misery - for bits and pieces of it. Somehow I was to blame, because when she used to say I hate you, I would say, I hate you too. To this day she still tells me that she never cared whether she had children.

When I was 11 I told my 5th grade teacher that something was wrong at my house - I didn't quite understand what and I don't remember exactly what I told her, but shortly after my teacher and my parents came to me and wanted to know why I was lying. I never asked for help again. I just waited, in my bedroom, for the years to pass by so that I could get out of there.

My mother had a horrible childhood herself. She grew up with an alcoholic mother who treated her surprisingly like my mother treated me. Does that give her an excuse? No more than it gives me one. Frequently as an adult she has told me the following: "I know I was a terrible mother, but that's your problem now."

All my life, my mother seemed to be a functional alcoholic. I never really saw her as having material consequences. The only consequence seemed to be that she alienated and destroyed her relationship with her children. My parents did get divorced 7 years ago - so I guess she lost her marriage - but it wasn't something that she wanted anyway. She always managed to keep a job and friends, never wrecked a car, never got a DUI even though she used to drive drunk with us in the car all the time when we were kids - she managed to keep up appearances and really, to this day, we don't know who knew what when, though my dad's family now claims to have known she was an alcoholic. No one, even my father, really tried to help us. When I was a kid, I would pray that she would get into an accident but not hurt anyone, so that she might be forced to get some help.

When do we get sober? When we hit a bottom. Mine was purely emotional. I hated myself and I wanted to die and I was so unhappy that I didn't think I could continue to live my life. My mother hasn't hit her bottom I guess, though I expect it is about to hit her. I talked to her once though about what I call my bottom - the pain and the misery that I experienced before and when I came into the program. She called me one day crying, telling me how horrible she felt and how miserable and sad and depressed she was. It was perhaps the only time in my life that I have ever talked to her from a place of "sameness" - when I said - believe me when I tell you, that I understand, like only we can, the misery you are going through. That was the day I told her that I was sober and that AA changed my life. That was a year and a half ago. I have talked to her about recovery to no avail. We talk very infrequently these days.

Her financial situation has been bad since my parents divorce. It could have been decent - she screwed my dad for everything he had and then threw it away in a business that was doomed to fail. She has asked me for money many times - sometimes I have given it to her, sometimes I haven't - but I, or someone else, has bailed her out repeatedly. She owes me money right now in fact. My mother would argue that you help family no matter what. Except that this never applied to her helping my brother and I - she never has, not once with anything - particularly during our adult lives. She didn't even offer me one bit of help when I had breast cancer or even offer to come see me.

My mother called me today and asked me for money. And in the best display of emotional black mail she could muster - told me that I have a choice not to give it to her and that she will love me anyway if I don't - and by the way, she also says - that she has recently come to realize that I never got the attention that I should have. It's too little too late, and notice the distinct lack of an apology for any of her behavior. My mother's financial situation is not good - but we don't know how bad it is. I think she is on quite a steep downhill that ends in her losing everything she has. It isn't the bottom I had hoped for her. My mother would say that the circumstances of her life are not due to her alcoholism. She does not get it and I am afraid the denial is impenetrable.

If I give her the money, am I enabling her? Am I prolonging the misery before she hits bottom? Am I contributing to her failure? Am I obligated to help her?

Would I rather deal with the blinding rage that I will feel if I give it to her? Or the guilty way that I will feel as her life crumbles around her and she blames me for it?

Which feels less bad? Does that matter? Because either way, I think I want this to be the end of my relationship with my mother. Is that wrong? Am I the horrible person that she always told me I was because I don't want to help her and I don't want anything to do with her?

I don't know what to do.

My mother is dying a miserable and alcoholic death.

I think of her pain and misery and it makes me more grateful than I can even tell you for my sobriety. Thank God I got to AA when I did and that my bottom was what it was. This is a miserable, painful, horrible disease to die from.

"There but for the grace of God go I."

Posting a retraction

I feel like I need to post a retraction - sort of as an apology even though the person I feel bad about judging doesn't read this blog - thank God. Who the hell are any of us to ever judge anyone anyway? I got a powerful lesson in that once while doing a fifth step with my sponsor and ranting my head off about a family member. I realized that I bitch just as much about people, I make just as many judgments about people. Sitting around and talking about how judgmental someone is means that I am no better really.

So, I have to stop calling the guy - "the guy who is an ass." Because frankly- that is a judgment that I don't have the experience to base it on. That doesn't mean that I am not going to try to talk myself out of associating with him - but the truth is, it's not a judgment that I can make. The most asshole thing he did to me was pursue me when his sponsor told him not to date. How bad of an offense is not listening to your sponsor and going after what you want - even if it is for the wrong reason or a motive you are trying to hide - or that you maybe don't even understand? I mean, we are all guilty of that - not listening to our sponsor. You just have to hope that when you don't listen - you don't cause too much damage - or if you do, that you are mostly damaging yourself.

I ended up married to someone that my sponsor told me not to date (oh wait - she didn't exactly tell me not to date HIM (she told me not to date at all) - she couldn't tell me not to date him, cause I didn't tell her I was dating him - so I am guilty of lying also) - of course we only got married because I had breast cancer - but still. Then - the second most asshole thing he did was call me the day after we went out to tell me that he really thought he needed to take his sponsor's suggestion not to date for a while, even though he wanted to date me - because he really needed to work through some issues and didn't want to treat me the way he has treated people in the past. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for him I guess - I had a hard time being mad about this - I say unfortunately for me cause anger is my favorite and most useful emotion. The thing is - I ended up respecting him more for that than I would have if he had continued to pursue me. Because first of all - he called me to talk about it and didn't just disappear like an ass - and second of all - he made a decision not to treat me like shit.

It is true that when he called me that day - he told me some unflattering things about his past and about things he had done - but again, I can't pass judgment based on this - it wouldn't be fair. He never did those things to me. At least he had the guts to do the right thing - frankly, I probably wouldn't have - I mean it takes guts to apologize and to do what you don't want to do - as opposed to just going after what you want. There are times when I still - even though I know that it's a bad idea - go after what I want, just because I want it. You know - I want what I want when I want it, which is as soon as I can get it, and I want as much of it as I can get - I hear that all the time at meetings. If I had been him - I am not sure I would have made the honorable choice.

Frankly, I certainly wouldn't want anyone judging me based on things I had done in my past, or holding those things against me, or talking about me because of it and there is plenty to judge when it comes to my past relationships. Maybe he has legitimately worked on things over the past several months - and true - you can't undo years of fuckedupness with just a few months, or years even probably - but it's progress not perfection. We are in a program premised on change - we are all here on the theory that you deserve second chances. We need to change - we have to - and I don't just mean change by not drinking when we used to drink - I am talking about deep and fundamental changes to a person. There was a time when I might have said - "once a something [fill in the blank - cheater, liar...], always a something." But I am not so sure about that anymore. I've changed too much and I've watched too many people change. I've watched my motives change, I've watched myself make choices that I knew were right even though they weren't what I wanted...

I have to believe that kind of change is possible, because if it isn't possible - then all of us in AA are fucked.

This is really about me and not about him, and my ability to make a right choice in the circumstances.

I would rather have hair than date you

During the process of surviving breast cancer - I did a lot of negotiating with my higher power - I've posted about this before - about what this process is like. People talk about this as being one of the stages of the grieving process - denial, anger, negotiation and acceptance. I think this is true for me - I very much go through this process to achieve the ultimate surrender which is acceptance. When I had cancer it started out very superficial - I'll do anything, I'll be a better person...if you just let my hair grow back. No - actually, I'll give up my hair - it's okay if it doesn't grow back - if you just give me my fertility. Eventually, in the most powerful moment of surrender that I have ever had - I decided I would choose my own life. I would rather live, even if it meant I would never have my own children. I posted about this last December in a post called "When it Suddenly Becomes Enough to Just be Alive."

I had been waiting for months to know whether my fertility would return - or whether at 29 I would be permanently in menopause. I was making the bed, and I got down on my knees and started crying and praying - and I told my higher power that it was okay, it was okay if I was infertile and that I would accept whatever I was given - that I wanted to live no matter what - that was all I wanted - to get to live, to get to watch my nephew grow up - I only asked that if I wasn't to have children, that God please show me what my life was supposed to be about and that God grant me the strength to fulfil that purpose. I went on about my way - and I kid you not - two hours later, my period just started out of now where and it's been normal ever since - now granted that doesn't necessarily mean that I am fertile - but I probably am. Anyway, this is just an example of how my higher power shows up in my life.

Okay - so I am getting side tracked with this story...back to my hair. So I frequently find myself continuing to engage in this negotiation process. In other words - what do I have to do to get a guy in my life? I'll...I don't know...go to more meetings? I'll do more service work? I'll spend less money? I'll work a better program? Eventually, I always end up in the same place - which is to say - okay higher power, I'll just accept whatever you give me and I'll be grateful for it. So the guy that I am not supposed to like because he is an ass - I posted about it a few weeks ago when he showed up after not coming to this one meeting since Memorial Day - it seems that he is back on the scene. My higher power was definitely testing me - because that morning a few weeks ago I told my higher power that I was okay with not having a guy in my life. A couple of hours later he was in my face. Yesterday at the big meeting I went to - I ran into him (correction, I went out of my way to run into him).

I left there thinking - you know - I really think I wouldn't date him, even if his sponsor suddenly decides he can date me. I wouldn't date him - I wouldn't want to. This is a big deal because worrying whether I will ever find a guy to be with occupies much of my brain space. I think I have a lot of strikes against me - the fact that I'm an alcoholic (but at least I'm sober!!), the fact that I've had breast cancer - guys aren't going to want to date me because of this - or, that is what my fucked up self esteem tells me. Although - I have to say - this guy gives me a little hope because he was interested, even though his sponsor wouldn't let him - and he knows that I am sober and had breast cancer - so maybe someone will like me. Someone? This morning, I had the thought - you know what higher power - I would rather have hair than date him. I would really seriously rather have my hair than date him. I wouldn't give my hair up for it. I know how ridiculous this sounds - it's just the way my head works.

Guess who came to the meeting tonight? Yup - sits down right next to me and proceeds to talk to me...talks to me after, drives me to my car, talks some more - tells me he will be coming back to this meeting regularly. (No, you don't need to point out that I was participating). I mean, God - do you have to tempt me like this? If you stick this guy in front of me...anything might happen. I can't even keep myself from engaging in conversation with him. I could have said gotta go and bailed - but no - thirty minutes later we are talking - just like back in May before the whole mess with his sponsor. I actually almost asked him whether this conversation we were having was a sponsor approved activity...cause if it isn't, I really don't want to go there.

But it figures doesn't it? Here I am proclaiming to my higher power this morning how I'm okay with never dating anyone again and I'm okay if no guy wants me and I'm okay with never having a relationship...I'm just happy to be alive - and to have hair. Now I feel like this is a test. Now I can't give in (cause what if my hair falls out if I go on a date with him....wait...what? That is my obsessive compulsive disorder kicking in - there is no rational reason why my hair has anything to do with this...but I may have to not eat chocolate for a week...huh? I'm slightly crazy - don't mind me).

So - here is the question - let's say his sponsor tells him he can date and he asks me out - do I go? Of course, this is presuming he is still interested. More on that later...

I don't know why this is so difficult - I just have a weakness for this guy - I had seriously hoped that weakness would be alleviated over all of these months of not seeing him. I mean, for God's sake - he can't date without his sponsor's permission and he's been sober for 2 years now. I sure hope his sponsor is cool - cause whoever dates this guy - is going to end up vicariously dating his sponsor as well. Can you even imagine? What do I do? I keep praying for God to relieve me of this. I hate these little tests - because remember - I know better than to go down this road - but I'm going to make the wrong choice. Damn, I hope this program really works on things besides drinking cause I really need my higher power to do this for me. Otherwise, I'm going to go out with him. I might even pursue him. Shit.

My higher power, times seven thousand

The strongest thing that I can think of is my higher power. Imagine the strength of that, times seven thousand. What could be cooler than sitting in a meeting of Alcoholic Anonymous with 7,000 people - nothing that I can think of. 7,000 people saying the serenity prayer and the Lords Prayer. Years and years and years of sobriety. All I could think was - the strength in this room is amazing - indescribable. The power in the room - the spirituality - palpable. Talk about a great way to witness how it works.

I went to the big annual Chicago AA meeting tonight. I had never been to a meeting like that. I contemplated lying my way out of going (tsk tsk)...but a friend convinced me that it is actually cool to be in the presence of something so amazing and see the fellowship on another level.

I actually left there feeling renewed hope for myself. Maybe I am not destined to be miserable. I left there wanting to do service work - which is odd - cause I don't do a ton of it and seem to be unwilling these days. I thought - what am I doing whining and complaining about my life when I could help someone? I want to be one of those people who have what people want. I want to be happy, joyous and free as we say. I want peace, serenity and contentment. Those are really the only things that I want.

Alone among many

Sometimes it amazes me that I feel so alone, or lonely. In a town this big, in an office of hundreds, thousands and thousands of people in AA, ,yet I feel alone. I feel alone and isolated these days, even when I am sitting in the middle of an AA meeting. Meetings are full of people who will welcome you, accept you, not judge you - yet I feel alone. Maybe it is easier to hide here, in a room full of people, than it ever was in my life before. I have always wanted to just blend in. To go unnoticed. Perhaps I have succeeded, on some level.

AA is like this ready made family, it is this instant group of friends - but it isn't like it was at home. It feels fake here. Now that I have been here a while - I am really appreciating the difficultly of integrating myself into AA in a place that was not the place I got sober in. There is something different about being in the place you got sober - there is a connection you have to the people and to the meetings. I didn't get sober around these people, or with them - they all had friendships when I got here, and groups - it feels cliquey. I feel like I've never quite made it onto that side of the wall. I feel like I never will. The friendships I have - they feel surface level, like those that come and go as frequently as the seasons change. Like those that exist momentarily on Wednesday night when you both show up at 6:30 - but they don't carry over.

It occurred to me tonight as I was leaving the meeting, that despite having been here for a year and a half, I don't have real friends. I feel like an outsider. Is it my fault - do I not put enough effort into having friendships? Cause I frankly feel like I'm the one putting all of the effort into the ones that I do have. I am the kind of person that if you don't reciprocate some effort, then I'll stop also - and if you don't respond, then I say forget it. I let friendships go pretty easily this way. Because I never feel like anyone else bothers to put any effort into it. I'm kind of mad at someone right now for this very thing - for failing me as a friend in a way. It makes me question whether we ever were friends. I am teetering on the edge of not trying anymore.

Am I just unlikeable as a friend? Am I boring or stupid or something? Sometimes I hate AA for all of the gossip that goes on - I just hate that part of it. It can feel very high school sometimes - just like me sitting around worrying about why I don't seem to fit in here and why I have no real friends here. I have fake friends here - but I am not sure that I have any real meaningful friendships amongst them. I will admit that I have a hard time opening up to people. I am frequently afraid to just be myself out of a fear that if you knew the truth about me, you wouldn't like me or want to be friends with me. What is this truth that I am hiding or so afraid to reveal? Nothing in particular - nothing that I haven't blogged about...it's just a feeling that no one would be friends with me if I really be myself. How do I get over that feeling? I don't know. Because I have felt that way all of my life and it has always affected my relationships.

For a lack of anything better to do, I am still pondering the cause of my "misery"

I'm posting, cause I don't know what else to do. I have these nights where I can't think of anything to do. I feel restless, unable to sit still and unsatisfied with the options. No one returns my phone calls, there is nothing on t.v. I've already been to a meeting, I don't have work to do. I can't concentrate to read a book. This is the sum total of my life these days. I've pondered the hell out of why I am unhappy when my life is seemingly so great...and despite my best efforts, I don't have the answer. I think it is time to move on from this question. I would like to just say I am an unhappy person, but at the same time, I'd like to believe there is a little more hope underlying my misery. I would like to believe that happiness is at least an option. It's something I could have, possibly.

I imagine this is what depression is like. I think I've been depressed before and it didn't feel like this, but I think this is depression. My lack of motivation grows worse, I feel like I have to drag myself to do anything, I don't even want to go to work. I feel like my effort is pointless. Everything is forced. Truthfully, the only thing I really want to do when I get home every day is drug myself to sleep. Do I do this? No, of course not. Could I? Yeah. Why don't I? Cause I am clearly putting too much thought into it. I happen to like sleeping pills or things that make me sleep, so, I have to be careful. I have Lunesta in the house. Why? For the same reason you all save things like Vicatin and other narcotic pain killers you no longer need - just in case. In case of what? In case of a headache of course. I'm being extra careful cause I had a dream that I drank last night. It was just like I imagine it would be if I ever drank again. What I wouldn't give for a little relief.

Frankly, I am pissed because I didn't feel this way until I went on and then off of Zoloft (and it was a very brief experiment). To sum up my whole experience with psychologists, psychiatrists, mental health professionals - let's just say I am underwhelmed. I get that anti-depressants arem't supposed to make you depressed. Duh. But that is what they do to me. Now can you help me or not? Apparently not. It's great that I don't feel anxious anymore (though I am not sure why). It's too bad that not feeling anxious means I don't care about anything, at all.

The best solution I have been able to come up with to my current state of affairs - is to work more. I know that seems like the wrong solution - but I know that the problem, or the underlying issue is always self-centered fear, and when I don't work as much, I have a lot more time to feed these fears and focus on the negative. In the month of August, I billed 35 hours less than I do in an average month - that's like a week less of work, and I am moving at about the same rate this month - no wonder I'm all caught up in the misery that goes on in my own head. I've been spending a lot of unsupervised time there. The thing is - my job is the only thing that motivates me really because it is the only thing in my life that I feel like I am good at. I am good at it - really good at it. I could throw myself into it - see how fast I can make partner - there is so much more I could do there. My job is a distraction - and it works like a drug.

So, around and around I've been going, so desperately wanting to be happy. And this is the only answer that I have been able to come up with - looking at it from all angles - I am unhappy because I choose to be. Every day, when I wake up, I choose to be miserable. It is a choice I have made all my life, to look at things from a specific point of view, with a specific perspective. I could just as easily choose the opposite. Your attitude, how you approach a situation or a problem, how you handle stress and conflict, whether worry consumes you, how you are in the world, how you treat people - you choose these things. It shouldn't surprise me what a struggle this is - to make a different choice - after living my whole life from a certain perspective. It does amaze me sometimes how easy it is to know the right thing to do, but to consistently make the wrong choice. I think about this especially as it relates to our personal relationships - where the truth really lies in the subtleties of our behavior. It just goes to show you just how hard it is to make a different choice than the one you've always made.

And by the way, I was thinking today about friendships and the various things I have learned in AA - favorite things that I have learned. One thing I always like to remember when it comes to my personal relationships, and the wrong choices that we make - is that we judge ourselves by our intentions, but other people judge us by our actions. Your best intentions, they may not be enough.

The root of the root

I need to make a correction to my last post - or rather, an elaboration. I knew I wasn't digging deep enough when I wrote that. My problems with men, the bad relationships, lack of self-esteem, etc., and feeling like a guy can "fix" my life - that is like the root that you trip over when you aren't looking cause it is sticking up above the ground. That is a surface level issue, a symptom of the problem. AA tells me to look at causes and conditions. What lies beneath this thing lurking just at the surface?

Fear of course. Fear is the root of the root - it is the root of all disaster, drama, bad relationships, failures and even successes in my life. Like I said, anxiety (fear) is the great motivator of my life. It plagues me, drives me, colors my thinking, taints my decision making - both the good ones and the bad ones. Every thing I have ever done has been based on fear. It is woven through every last nook and cranny of my life. What does the Big Book say - it is the corrosive thread that touches just about every aspect of our lives - or something like that.

It all comes back to fear, every time, every problem, every issue, every unhappiness. The fear of losing what you have or not getting what you want - this is the key to everything. So if I can be free of the fear, I can be free of the unhappiness, in theory, because if I can be free of the fear, I can be happy with what I have. I can be happy alone, if I am no longer afraid that my happiness is dependant on someone wanting me. This is all in theory of course because in practice I still feel how I feel.

I will say this though - I do know that hanging your happiness on the behavior of another person is never a good idea. Eventually, people always disappoint you. Friends, they don't show up when you want them to. My old sponsor used to say that engaging in a relationship with me (this is going to seem a little harsh) would be like being forced to play a game (that you can't ever win), but not knowing that you were playing it and not being told the rules, and then getting in trouble when you lose.

This guy, this mythical guy who is going to materialize in my life and give me everything I've ever wanted and change the way I feel about myself and change everything - this is destined for disaster.

The root of it all

This series of posts has been me - trying to get to the root of it all. Just what exactly is the root of my unhappiness? And why do I still believe that something material can fix it? Is it because the rest of life is so intangible that I can't even really wrap my mind around it? Is it really inevitable that we always want what we don't have, or can't have? Could it be that material things are the cause, when so often we think of them as the solution? Just what is it about the material things in life that has such a hold over us? It is the way we measure our success, and the thing we use to compare ourselves to other people. For example, my father deems himself a good father because I am financially successful - he has told me that. The material things in our lives are tangible, measurable, quantifiable, like my job. Happiness is not like this, or so it seems, although we tend to approach it like it is.

It has only been through AA that I have learned to look at the less tangible aspects of people 's lives, like happiness for example - and start to ponder what might make up the contents of this thing we call "happiness." I might on the one hand say, my sponsor - she has a kind of serenity in her life that I want. I want what she has - peace, serenity, contentment, happiness. But how do I know that she has these things? I see them, but how, how do I identify them? Rarely do we look at someone's life and say gee, I wish that I could practice the patience and tolerance of others that that person does - look how much serenity he or she clearly has. No, of course we don't - we think, I want that person's car, job, house, husband, etc. - look at how happy they seem. This phenomenon of comparing your insides to another person's outsides is a dangerous one and also very inaccurate.

How exactly do we measure these intangible things that we want - how do we measure the degree of our happiness? It seems that we measure this by the material successes and failures of our lives. We are back where we started. It is a vicious cycle. I'll happy be if, and I'll be happy when. So am I destined for a life of unhappiness then? I cannot seem to untangle my material wants from my ultimate happiness. It will always be true that there will be something I want that I don't have. Can't I be happy in spite of this? How do I actually know that I am not happy at the present moment? Maybe this is happiness and I just don't know how to identify it. I feel the need to figure this out in a desperate kind of way. I need to get this. I need to figure this out. I desperately want to be happy.

Separate from this issue of material and intangible wants, I think I know what the problem actually is - what the problem is that underlies all of my other problems, both real and perceived. No matter which around the issues I go, I conclude the same thing every time. I have no self-esteem, or very little anyway, and that is basically the root of it all. I think so little of myself, that I believe that there is something wrong with me if no guy wants to be with me. The fact that I am 30 and alone, with no prospects in sight, means there is something fundamentally bad about me. I can't figure out what is so terrible about me, why am I so unlovable - and there is a part of me that just knows that if a guy wanted to be with me, I would be "happy." I know this isn't true like I know the sky isn't green, but this doesn't change the way I feel. I have never really been able to muster any self worth of my own - I've just tried to obtain it from others.

I landed in AA largely because I hated myself. I hated myself and I wanted to die and I was so unhappy that I didn't think I could live another day. I stuck around AA because I thought I would learn to at least like myself. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by how little progress towards that goal I have actually made.

What is this thing called, "a more amazing life than anything I ever could have imagined for myself"

My last post and the comment that was made, has really gotten me thinking about this so called journey that I am on, or rather, over analyzing my increasing lack of motivation about life. If you know me, you know that I am pretty motivated on a day to day basis, and pretty motivated at work. I have realized that much of my motivation in life has been anxiety driven, and now that I'm not anxious (which is a mystery because I am not on anything - one could probably attribute this to AA in action), I feel almost no need to move forward in life. I am still trying to figure this whole anxiety/depression thing out - but I do know one thing - anxiety was the great motivator of my life - and maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

Anyway, as life would have it, I am on this AA journey towards "a more amazing life than anything I ever could have imagined for myself." What the heck is that supposed to be? I mean, if I believe in AA, and I do, then I don't exactly get to choose the contents of that amazing life. My higher power will put into my life the rights things at the right time. Of course this requires action on my part, I have to work the program, but the program has taught me that no matter how bad I may want that new job or more money, or any of the other things I want - they will come to me when they come to me. And if those things don't come to me - something even better will. Even if my life doesn't look the way I always thought it would - that's okay. For me, this is part of having faith and working the AA program.

Just as an aside - I am torn constantly about what this life is supposed to be about. On the one hand I will tell you that my life is not about me. That there is a purpose to me being here, still, that I survived breast cancer for a reason - and that the purpose is for me to help other people. I believe that - I believe that my life is not really about me and that I can help many people by showing them that you can survive something tragic or devastating and have a life and stay sober while getting through it. Those are powerful stories. That doesn't stop me from turning around and complaining about the revised compensation structure at work and how I am going to be really peeved if my bonus isn't big enough. It doesn't stop me from wanting what I want. I can't always figure out how to want what I want and live within a life that isn't supposed to be my own and isn't supposed to be about material things and instant gratification. So I'm lucky to be here, and grateful to be here, tremendously grateful to be alive, that's true and yes, I want to help people, and I want a raise in January. Does that make me evil?

So, I'm on this journey, and I have to admit, the fact that the destination is completely intangible, means you are going to lose me somewhere along the way. It can be hard to motivate yourself when the goal that you have is something you can't describe. Yes - the goal is something I want. I want it and I want it badly, but what is it? It is a more amazing life than anything I ever could have imagined. That is the goal. But what the hell is it and how much input do I get to have? What if I want to make partner at my firm - is that part of the plan, how am I supposed to know? The line between my will and my higher power's will is blurry and there is a part of me that feels guilty for still wanting what I want, even though I claim to have a great appreciation for life and a greater understanding of what it is supposed to be about.

I like predictability, defined outcomes and definite goals. I like a destination that I can see clearly. I like to be on the path, at the end of which I obtain something. I understand that life is about the journey and not the destination, but I like there to be a destination even though the destination is not the point. I have learned about this, the hard way, by missing the journey as I desperately tried to get to the other side of life. My life has been a series of defined goals, each of which I have achieved. I have always had something to work towards. First it was get out of my parent's house, go to college, do well, graduate, move out of Ann Arbor, go to law school, get into a good one, do well, graduate, get a job, get another job, move out of Ann Arbor again and get another job, save X amount of money, etc. I have always felt like there is something that I am trying to get. In this process, I realized that everything I got was disappointing when I got it - because it didn't cure my inherent unhappiness. Neither did every new boyfriend, a new car, new furniture, a new town - none of the external things I ever tried, ever made me happy. Always thinking - if I just get X, then everything will be okay. I used to think - if I just make X amount of money, then I'll relax and be happy. I can tell you that I make significantly more than X, and I still lack the thing I've always wanted the most.

This thing that I am chasing - it is simply happiness, a little peace and some serenity. Something that all the money in the world, a law degree, a new car, nice clothes, a good job, a guy - can't buy you. My friend who got me sober used to say - happiness is not a destination - and every time he said this, I would think, but I just know I'll be happy when I get there. I still want to look at my life as a series of goals and destinations even though the point is to find happiness right now, in the present moment, and in the little things. I want there to be an end point. I want there to be a finale - I want there to be a moment when I finally get every last little thing I've ever wanted or ever thought I needed and I finally say, okay, NOW, I am happy. That moment, it's never going to come is it?

I still suffer from the feeling that something, some external thing can fix it. I still feel that - but I know it isn't true. I don't live under that illusion anymore. And maybe that is why I can't motivate myself. Because I know it isn't going to work. The problem is not anything outside of me - the problem is me. I distinctly remember the moment that I realized that - I was on the phone with my friend who got me sober and he was reading something to me out of the Big Book - when I finally got it - I finally got that alcohol is a symptom of the problem, and the problem is me. This was both disappointing and relieving and the same time. I got in that moment that nothing I was trying to achieve was going to fix it - that was disappointing, but changing myself would fix it, and that was a relief.

Because I understand that, I know now that as I set goals and achieve them, the happiness I really desire will continue to lurk just out of my reach, if I can't grab onto it right here, right now. I do have some definite goals for myself, pay off a 40k student loan on October first, save a very large down payment by February, 28, 2009, bill 2100 hours by April 30, 2008, make partner eventually, meet a guy, have a family. I am not sure what other goals to set for myself, when the truth is, I have everything I need, and a lot of what I wanted, materially that is. Not surprisingly, the goals that I can really make progress towards are all financial and the other ones, meeting a guy and having a family - those, I am afraid, will continue to elude me. Why is so much tied up in my job? Because it is the one thing that I am really good at. It is the one area of my life in which I am really successful, while the rest feels like a disappointment. In the scheme of things, these things are not that important though, and they certainly aren't going to cure my unhappiness.

How am I supposed to work towards this thing that I want then - this intangible and undefined thing that is supposed to be a life that is more amazing than anything I ever could have imagined for myself? One thing I know about life, that I have learned through AA, is that it changes the most when you accept what you have at the moment. So how do I work towards this thing? By realizing that it isn't a goal - it isn't something to get, it isn't something to achieve, or a place that I will arrive at. It starts with gratitude I think - gratitude that I am alive, that I don't have cancer, that I don't have to drink and destroy my life and end up like my mother, that I don't have to live the way I used to or feel the way I used to, that the sun is shining today...the list goes on. It's starts with gratitude and realizing that the thing that I want is all around me, happiness, the serenity, the life more amazing than anything I ever could have imagined for myself - I am sitting in the middle of it.

If what I want is over there, then why am I sitting over here?

I always appreciate the reminder - which usually comes at an AA meeting, that nothing changes if nothing changes. AA after all, is premised on change - and if I don't change, my life doesn't change. Doesn't that just sum everything up? Nothing changes if nothing changes. I have to actually do something different to get a different result. Duh. I am stagnating I think. I suppose it is normal to go through periods of growth and stagnation, but it is frustrating, to say the least, to sit here and contemplate changing, to want to change even, but to be unable to get myself to take action. Not only is it frustrating, it is baffling really.

It's like someone saying - I have this thing that you really want. You really really really want it really badly - it's everything you've always wanted. Everything you've ever imagined and more. I have it, and I'm going to give it to you - but I'm going to sit it down way over there, and you just have to go get it. You can see it, you want it, it seems like a bit of a hike, but you want it more than anything. There are a lot of obstacles between you and it, so the person even gives you directions. And while the path might not be that easy to walk, the destination is obvious, and you are positive that it will be worth it once you get over there, no matter how hard it is. You believe wholeheartedly that this person has given you the correct directions and you know that it is only a matter of time before you get over there and can have it. The directions are really pretty clear and easy to follow, and yeah, you have to do some things along the way that you don't want to do, but it's completely worth it in the end, because you get to have what you always wanted.

So what do you do? Sit over here and want it instead of going and getting it. I've posted about this before during periods of frustration. This is what working the AA program is like for me sometimes. Seeing what I want, knowing I can have it, yet I am unable to go get it. I believe completely that this program works and that into my life will flow great and amazing things, more amazing than anything I could ever imagine. IF I TAKE ACTION. If all I do is sit here, my life is going to stay the same. Granted it's changed a lot (and when I say it's changed I mean that my attitude and perspective have changed), but it stops changing when you stop taking action. I just feel like I'm sitting on this giant plateau. I always hear people say that if you aren't climbing up the mountain, you are sliding back down it- that you are moving forward or moving backwards. I really do feel like I'm on a giant plateau.

The mountain is not really in sight - I'm definitely not on it - I'm not moving in either direction. The thing is - I feel willing - at least, I feel open to the idea that anything is possible. I feel in a state of surrender - I feel like my will is aligned with my higher power's will, I feel deepening levels of acceptance...but I cannot seem to muster what it takes to keep moving forward. I don't get it. I actually think that I might be depressed at the moment - maybe a by product of trying anti-anxiety/anti-depressants - and not finding one that works. Although, I was not depressed when I decided to try them for anxiety. Anyway, that aside - frankly, I think if I could look for an alternative way to walk around the mountain - like if I could find a detour - I would take it.

That's not a good thing. "We thought we could find an easier, softer way, but we could not." "Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely." "How it Works" page 58.