Sunday: Part 4, The Fifteen Year Itch
The Pre-Cake roller coaster is in full motion. And it is rocking like bat shit crazy.
This year has been a challenge for me, in many ways. A few years ago, when I was introduced to working with others for the first time, I invested in a community because that is where my guys came from originally. Long sober people have turned out to be fakes and charlatans, liars and cheats. Obviously, I trusted the wrong people, for what I thought were the right reasons.
Sober people are not perfect and I am told that I have to accept that an alcoholic and an addict are sick people, and that I should not hold long sober people up to certain standards of respect, dignity and human kindness. But if you turn on me I will, walk away.
No questions, No excuses, No problems.
Two and Three Quarter years later, for a certain fellowship, it is no more for me. That stage of my life has come and gone. I could only do so much, as in paying for all the supplies out of my pocket, running three meetings, carrying the lion’s share of the load. And it came to a head and I walked away. I was done.
I’m only hitting a couple of A.A. meetings now, and my patience is wearing thin for those meetings as well. One meeting, is full of young people and is, at least functional. But I drew down my service to that group last Friday night, opting to open another night for fellowship where I want to be right now.
My Sunday meeting, people are acting odd around me, they have just gone quiet on me. The don’t talk like we used to, and nobody waits to walk home, and that is a trend I have watched happen in other meetings that met in that space as well. And my sponsor cared to inform me just how scared people are of me and that they don’t trust me and even to the degree that some won’t come to that meeting because of me:
AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL ABOUT THAT ???
Drop me another bomb why don’t you !!!
I am frustrated with people, I am short tempered. I am impatient. I’ve been running very hard at recovery for so long, that I am just about out of steam. I’ve pounded service, and tried very hard to grow up, yet I am reminded again and again, when it is expedient for my friends to remind me, that I have shortcomings, not that I have forgotten any of them.
I’ve accepted that I am damaged. And I accept that I may never heal fully. And I am told that over and over, I have to remember what I did to others, and that my issues are all about me. When you do life work and you pound it hard, you move forwards, sometimes only a little. What is done is done.
I listen to folks sober twice as long as I am. And I listen to them tell me where they think I should be, in relation to where they are themselves. Like I need to hit spiritual benchmarks already, that I know, for myself, I am not close to at all.
God is calling the shots. All the shots. And I am letting Him call the shots.
God knows how much time I have left.
My doctor does not even know what to do with me now, since I hit the fifty benchmark next July. I am not supposed to be still alive. And now this opportunity has come about, a path, a new focus in my life, and there is no better time than the present.
If not now, then when?
I’m bored with the rooms. I am tired of sitting with folks who, all they want to do is sit in, “Can’t be bothered.” We talk and talk and talk, UGH … enough talk already.
I just need some room to breath. I just need to have my friends give me some slack to decide what is good for me, without having to tell me how damaged I still am, thinking that if I listen to all the things wrong with me, I won’t want to serve Heavenly Father in the Church !
That’s what the enemy wants me to listen to. All those things wrong with me that make me less potential as a human being, because I am damaged. And I have faults. And I have challenges. If Adam and Eve did not fall in the garden, we would not have the dichotomy of good and evil, right and wrong, good and bad, light and dark.
If we did not have the bad, we would not know the truth and find the good and blessing of our stories, and our challenges. Gosh, I am going to be fifty next summer, and I cannot make decisions for myself, because people around me are so used to having me around, reliable, capable of doing all the work, answering to my fellows, and being the good sober boy I have been for the whole of my sobriety ???
And people tell me they care about me and that I matter and that I am important, and that I should return to places I have walked away from on purpose. And at the same time, the only time my phone rings is when certain people make concerted attempts to get my attention, when I had not heard from them for weeks.
Now that I’ve made my Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints commitment, people are freaking out.
For God’s sake, let me be … This is my call, not yours. This is my life, not yours.
I have not said a word in response to all this crap being shoveled at me recently. I’ve been respectful, because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I am feeling a little pressed into a corner, having to choose between comfort and growth.
THERE IS NO GROWTH IN THE COMFORT ZONE AND
THERE IS NO COMFORT IN THE GROWTH ZONE.
I heard that from an Elder this morning. And it is true.
For people, who have nothing but the rooms, and their concept of a higher power, and they do nothing but stay within those confines, it becomes comfortable. And predictable.
I’ve been living a wholly comfortable and predictable life for all my sober years.
There are not many people who are devoted to organized religion, so to speak. And I’ve been around the block with numerous religions. And I know ALL the arguments made towards the LGBT community. Good and Bad.
And I think, that my friends think, that if I surf too far off the wave of sobriety, that I am going to find myself in some kind of serious jeopardy, that will threaten my sobriety. If you stray too far from the farm, you might get caught someplace you really should not be.
God forbid, you should find community somewhere else, that is not sober related.
The alarms go off, the lights start flashing and the warning sirens go off.
Whoa look out, one of us is heading in another direction,
Danger Will Robinson, Danger …
I made it here on my own steam. I am still alive and breathing.
Let me make my own decisions. I am of sound mind and body.
There is nothing bad or dangerous about God.