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.