I realized, after the fact, that I posted a day early last week. We were on vacation, I had a free chunk of time while drinking my birthday reward beverage at Starbucks and posted away! Several years ago, the in-laws told me that in retirement, they sometimes lose track of what day it is. I've long been date challenged, but I do get it. I generally remind myself of what day it is as soon as I wake up, with different days of the week categorized for different tasks or activities (walking, gym, laundry, etc).
Sometimes I do lose track of which day of the week it is, but that is a far cry from losing track of weeks or even months. Lost weekends? Definitely. Friday night starting with drinks, morphing into a gram of cocaine, leading to a trip to the dealer for an eight-ball, and then suddenly the birds are chirping and it's Monday. Even after I'd stopped formally working, Monday morning had a heft that screamed, "Get out of bed!" I'll never forget the ugly feeling, the pitiful, incomprehensible demoralization of waking up at 6:00 in the winter, not sure if it was AM or PM. I am still and always grateful for the peace of mind that comes with sobriety, the not having to worry about what I did, or said, or where am I anyway?
And, here we are at home. I love to travel, and I surely love coming back to sleep on my own pillow. We did get to a sweet little in-person meeting while away - the two folks setting up the group, and three visitors (us plus a guy from Wisconsin). Interesting times, these. My Alanon home group is now both in-person and online, with maybe a dozen in each format. I've gotten very comfortable with my online groups, less inclined to get in the car, drive across town, park and drive back home. And... I do appreciate actually holding hands and reciting the Serenity Prayer in unison vs the cacophony that comes across in zoom.
That being said, I'm part of a small group that meets online every-other week, with attendees from California, Nevada, Washington, Minnesota, Montana, and here in Oregon - friends, all, including some who've just met in this setting. We are people who may never have crossed paths in our drinking years, bound together by common histories and a shared path of gratitude and celebration of all things real.
October, 10th month, reminds me to focus on Step 10 - the on-going personal inventory and when I am wrong, promptly admitting it. I'm painfully aware when I do or say something egregious, but sometimes it is less obvious when I've more gently stepped on the toes of my fellows. My old ideas are my ideas, and I need to remind myself that just because I think I know what is right for you, you, or you (including society and the planet) doesn't mean I am actually right. Such a drag, these three fingers pointing back at me when I'm pointing one at you! Humility? Definitely. I'd say that's one of the primary tasks of long-term recovery. The plug is in the jug, and my task these days is to strengthen the pause muscle in order to keep the plug in my mouth when I'm triggered to give my input or "suggestion" seemingly on autopilot. One day at a time, one choice at a time.
I'm reading Drop the Rock - the Ripple Effect (by Fred H) about using Step 10 as a gateway to Steps 6 & 7. In the suggestions for spot check inventories are reminders to simply observe - my own actions, before opening my mouth, as well as my discomfort, as in pay attention. Being uncomfortable in the moment can be a learning opportunity - what am I feeling, and why? Always, the pause to investigate, or simply take a breath, before taking action. I'd guess that most of my discomfort these days has to do with old ideas (not feeling like enough, while conversely believing I'm right). Having been on this recovery path for decades now, the old "I'm such an alcoholic!" no longer holds much water. Sure, I was programmed at an early age and those old tapes are my default when stressed, however, I have years now of reprogramming to draw on when I can slow down just a bit. I've long been tempted to tattoo PAUSE on my wrist where I can see it every minute of every day.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, the 10-year anniversary of my mother's passing was this month. I am an anticipator, and in the weeks leading up to the date, was thrown back to the sadness of her death, and the utter grief of the ensuing months. However, aided by my positive experience donating family memorabilia to the Museum of the Oregon Territory, I'd moved to a place of gratitude for who Mom was, and our close relationship, so the actual day came and went without my noticing until after the fact. I can work myself into a tizzy, but when I'm able to simply (not easily!) let the emotions flow, I'm less likely to get stuck. And boy howdy did I get stuck in the past, grieving a 7-year relationship for close to a decade, my father's death for at least 5 years if not more, and so on. Loss is painful, and experiencing loss with the tools of recovery may not be less painful, but definitely of shorter duration, and less likely to sneak up masquerading as something else. In general, I need to be mindful of what I think I'm supposed to feel, whether that is around an anniversary (positive or not so much) or days like Thanksgiving and Christmas when the "shoulds" roar their expectant heads. I feel what I feel - good, not good, neutral or something in between and it's all ok. (as one of my Alanon readers reminds me, "being human is not a character defect.")
We're anticipating rain here in the Pacific NW - finally. As with all things - weather, politics (ugh), family dynamics, and yes, upcoming holidays, the beat goes on. Where are you today with a Step 10 practice? Do you take a formal daily inventory (nowadays even available in an app) or more a gut check? What "shoulds" can you observe and release as the season moves forward? I've heard that Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas are the Bermuda Triangle for those with eating issues, but I'd say the same for any of us with complicated histories. Be kind to yourselves...
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See the Feb 4 post for a sample of the 78-page workbook, "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" available as hard copy (mailed) or PDF (emailed - for those outside the U.S or those who prefer the computer, though do note it is not a writeable PDF.). Portland Area Intergroup also has a supply available at 825 NE 20th Ave, suite 200. Go to the WEB VERSION of this page, if you don't see the purchase link in the upper right corner. Contact me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with any questions.
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