Friday, May 13, 2016

Now What?

On 1/3/1986 I entered a treatment program for my methamphetamine and alcohol addictions.  I immediately jumped into the recovery rooms and haven’t had a drink or a drug since.  On 2/27/1986, I went to my first  meeting to address the family disease of alcoholism (along with the minor detail that I was still sleeping with my heroin addicted, drug dealing boyfriend and wondered how I could help him get clean). 

That was 30 years ago.  THIRTY YEARS. I am dumbfounded on several fronts. 1) I truly went into treatment on the 30 day plan, with the notion that I could win back my ex, who’d already left the country and married another woman.  I did have a tiny smidgen of hope that my life could be different, but really couldn’t imagine staying clean forever. OK, 30 years isn’t exactly forever, but it is a l-o-n-g time. 2) This whole passage of time thing really freaks me out. Where does 30 years go?   I’ve earned a couple of degrees, traveled, completed 10 marathons, gotten married, enjoyed a long term career as well as long term friendships – but 30 years?

And so, if the next 30 goes anywhere near as quickly as this chunk of time, I need to wake up.  Self-care is no longer a theory. “Someday” is now, that elusive here-and-now that I read about and glimpse from time to time.  And that being said, I cannot stay in recovery based on what I did 10 years, or even 10 weeks ago.  What is it that I need to do today?

What does it mean to be in long term recovery?  When I hit the 20 year mark, I thought, OK, this is my life. I am a recovering person.  It’s not that I felt less-than-sober all those years, but I couldn’t argue with 20 years.  20 years felt as solid as anything I’d experienced in my life to that point.  Love tends to come and go. People come and go, as do jobs.  My recovery, one day at a time, can be a constant – as long as I remain mindful of my daily reprieve.  And, it can be a challenge to keep it fresh, to stay engaged, to continue to grow.

30 years feels like it comes with a certain amount of responsibility.  I am an elder.  What does that mean, and how does one practice being an elder without veering  into “bleeding deacon” land? A friend, who recently celebrated 40 years sober, describes a stepping back, a turning over of the reins to the younger generation.  Maybe being an elder means keeping my mouth shut sometimes and seeing where the enthusiasm of those younger in recovery takes the group.


And so, in these pages, I will explore various topics related to long term recovery, both from my own experience, and the experience of others. If I’ve learned anything in these 30 years it’s that I don’t have all the answers. I’m not even sure of the questions sometimes! 

5 comments:

  1. Living in places with very small meetings (3-4 people) most of the time, I haven't had the experience of changing group dynamics. But what I am getting as far as discussions with my sponsor and my longtime sober friends is, I just feel like I really don't know much of anything. Thank you for setting this up - I really would like to hear about other versions of longtime sobriety (other than my own)...hugs.

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  2. Love this topic and am so excited to follow along. To speak to your statement, "it can be a challenge to keep it fresh, to stay engaged, to continue to grow." Lately I've found my program enthusiasm waning and it scares me. I've been very drawn to other ways to spend my time and fear old warnings that "the first thing I put in front of my recovery is the first thing I'll lose." At 30 years, do these types of statements ever feel... dogmatic? Does experiencing some boredom with the process--perhaps even taking some time away--really mean that we're ungrateful or that we cease to grow? I'd love some feedback on this!

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  3. I totally get it, and hope to hear from others. I recently heard someone say, "I've got 35 years - can't I take a few weeks off?!" And, yes, sometimes it does feel like dogma - and then I'm in a meeting with someone who had 31 years, stopped participating, and is now struggling to get sober again, or the person who drank after 20+ years, or is deep into another addiction. For me, boredom has come & gone over the years. I would think it is simply part of the process, part of being human. I tend to show up partially out of habit - sometimes my heart sings and other times I'm watching the clock. For me, keeping my program as a sort of platform for the rest of it helps keep things in perspective... Other's thoughts?

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  4. I think "is this all there is" can be dangerous in the extreme for those of us with long-term sobriety. I spent years thinking things like, "I know what everyone in this meeting is going to say before they say it" and "What can I possibly hear that will help me when I have the most sobriety in the room." Then, the epiphany: I was there to practice the twelfth step, to carry the message to others. Suddenly, meetings and the program were interesting, even fascinating again. I began to reach out to the newest of newcomers, and began sponsoring someone who had never been through the steps. "Life took on a new meaning" (to quote the Big Book.) What seemed dull at 28 years now is thrilling again at 36. "Nothing will so much insure immunity from drinking as intensive work with other alcoholics." Really.

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  5. This post has gotten me thinking. Not sure if this is good or bad sometimes but I have decided to play along.

    1) Can I stay sober without AA?

    A) Maybe. Have not really tried to do without and so far I choose not to roll the dice. The longest I have gone without a meeting was 3 weeks when we were out of the country. I tried to find a meeting but it just did not work out.

    2) Can I continue to grow as a man, husband, father, friend without AA?

    I know without a doubt I am an unfinished product. Will God and AA ever be able to tame these unrelenting character defects has been a question of late? How would I get new ideas that over power the old thoughts otherwise. Not sure here either.

    3) Where else would I get the sense of community I still get from AA?

    Hard to say. By nature I tend to isolate. Even knowing this is not the healthiest thing for me to do. Plenty of excuses but none of them fly when the voice of reason are applied. When I walk into a meeting and see people I have known for decades it still makes me feel good. Or just people I have not met yet.

    4) Do I owe a huge debt to AA? Have I repaid this debt?

    Without a doubt in my mind could I have ever pay this off. No way I could have stayed sober without AA or for that matter had anything resembling a spiritual awakening that has changed my life in so many ways.To me this is a debt I can never repay because each day the debt grows.

    5) Do I get tired of hearing certain things from certain people?

    Yep and they probably get tired of hearing from me too.

    6) Has AA changed and am I afraid of what these changes mean?

    Yep. That is also why it is important to have long term sobriety in the meetings. We can be the voice of experience when the easier softer way does not get the job done.

    6) Have I ever gone through stretches where I feel like I am not getting anything out of AA?

    Many times this has happened. Lack of patience is one of those unrelenting defects of mine. I have tried to combat this by talking about it, changing meetings, seeing what I can add instead of take, moving across the country and back and most of all wait it out. It is always amazing how my backside can catch on fire in an instant and AA becomes real again.

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