Do you ever have a moment like this, when you did something and you should have done something else, and grabbed your head and went “UGH!!!”
They say, in recovery, that “Where ever you go, there you are …”
Which is timely with the introduction of tonight’s read: On the Road
As alcoholics, how many years did we spend, traveling from one place to another, trying to find ourselves, or a life, or something like it?
Our writer tonight, travels roads all over the earth, looking. This after being young and getting blackout drunk and trying to kill his stepfather, the judge says “You can either go to Juvie, or you can leave town until you turn 21!”
Not wanting to go to juvie, our writer takes to the road in search of himself, but never finds himself until he darkens a room of A.A. He spends the better part of his life drinking his way around the world and back again, until he takes his last drink.
And even then, he really did not connect. And every time a sponsor “lovingly suggested” that he do some work, he would summarily fire them and move on to someone else, who had, he thought, a much easier softer way.
Some years into sobriety, say, around the two year mark, we enter what we like to call,the “angry years” where nothing fits, everybody is wrong and has no idea. And if we stay sober through this we eventually get to what we next call the “jumping off point.”
This is the stage where we say “SHIT or get off the Pot !”
There are many ways to approach recovery. I get the slow starters. I understand the questions, the uncertainty, the fear, of just how am I going to live, now that I am trying to get sober, and what will my life look like and what will I do if I can’t have just one???
Come in, sit down, and relax. All the jobs have been taken. Listen and have an open mind.
Eventually, you will hear your sponsor speak, and that is when you know what to do. OR you could just cold cock it and put it out there, that you need a sponsor, and see who rises to the occasion.
That works just as well.
Back to On the Road …
Growing up, I listened to my parents talk, A LOT ! Drunk and Sober. I heard a lot of things, and realized in my journey, that to be myself, I could not do that at home. I had to get out.
My shrink at the time told me what to do …
He said, and I quote “The best way to become part of a certain community is , to go to the bar, sit down at the bar and have a drink. Hell, have two if the spirit moves you, and see what happens.”
The entire decade of my twenties was wrapped up in one sentence.
On a bar stool, looking pretty, talking the right game, drinking the right liquor, and watching what happens.
I can’t tell you how many times I moved during those ten years. I had a brief foray into staying put from 26 to 28, but as soon as I was left to my own devices, I was off and running again. Until I hit my mid thirties. I had finally had enough of trying to find some place I could call my own.
I had come to that “Jumping Off Point” I was 34. Uneducated, by university standards, but wise on finding my way through poverty and sickness. I got sober again, and for a time, I settled where I was because I needed what my friends had and I needed to learn how to get sober again. I did that.
But in the back of my mind, and in my heart, Where I was, was not where I wanted to be.
Montreal was the stopping point.
I had been educated, I was sober, and I had a birthright in hand, that facilitated my last move.
It was the last step, in becoming the man I wanted to be, somewhere that I would call HOME.
Someplace that I could be ME, that I could be free of the past. Free of the pain, sickness and poverty that I was living in prior to my last move.
This time I had ammunition. This time I did it the right way. I found a home, I found the rooms, and I met people who would get me into the life I wanted.
The best piece of advice I heard the first week was this:
Go to meetings. Find a home group.
Build your LIFE around your MEETINGS, not your MEETINGS around your LIFE.
I did that. And I’ve been successful for the last 12 and some years. I never deviated from this advice, unless of course, I could not find another night to have class. Your home group is sacrosanct. You never miss your home group, no matter what. it should be your first responsibility.
Only 2 semesters in ten years did I ever have to miss my home group.
Our young people, in their twenties who are in the nest right now, are still trying to figure out who they will become and how they are going to get through school and life and be social, and NOT drink.
That is a tall order. It is a tall order for most folks coming in the room at any stage of the game. We all say that same thing … How can I survive this life and not drink?
I had to get to the point that moving from place to place was no longer working. I had to get to the point that I was ready to grow up and learn how to live in my skin, and become the man I so wanted to become.
Finding that “PLACE” is integral to success.
Because, where ever you go, there you are …
I was getting too old to keep looking, and not finding. The time had come to either SHIT or get off the pot, so to speak. I had no more time to waste, time was of the essence. And If I didn’t take that chance that I had, I would never have gotten here.
And I like HERE. I want to be HERE. I love HERE.
If you don’t know where you are going, then STOP. Sit down where you are and rest. Look around you and survey your surroundings. Study your location and the people in that location. Consult your life map and ask your questions. THEN when you are ready to take that next step, gather your map and your things and take that step.
Growing up was not as hard or as painful as I thought it would be. When I was still drinking, all that mattered was having the delusional life I thought I wanted. WRONG !!! Knowing that where I was at that time, was not where I wanted to be, I think contributed to what I did next.
But I had to put the drink down first to be able to make a conscious life decision.
The rest they say is history.
All my guys are good. I Skyped with Pittsburgh, everyone is well. Our little group is sober another weekend. And we are good to go for the next week.
More to come, stay tuned …
OH, and I SCORED a #19 Germany – Mario Gotze World Cup Jersey. Pictured below and on the sidebar !!! Ten Cheers for EBAY !!! YAY !!!
Boy, was it HOT today. The last time it was this hot, was back in July. And we are under a severe thunderstorm watch at this hour.
I had nothing to do today, so I slept in. In the end I had several dreams one after another covering a few topics that have arisen in my mind over the past week. I am not only ruminating at night before bed, I am dreaming of people, places and things as well. It was interesting to see how the dreams played out. Even while I am sleeping my mind is in overdrive.
When my alarm clock finally went off at 4:30 this afternoon, I was like, NO, More Sleep Please !!!
I diddled here on the computer and got ready to go. I was meeting with one of my guys prior to the meeting, on the other side of town, so I left uber early. It was a miserable 28c out with a humidex of 38c. The skies were growing darker every minute as I made my way to the Metro.
If it was unbearable outside, then it was doubly worse in the tunnels. The heat generated by the trains and the air in the tunnels is really warm. And that warmth is a really good thing come winter. But it was sweaty hot outside, and I was traveling at peak rush hour. I don’t usually travel this early.
The trains were PACKED, across both lines.
When I made my connection, the car was packed wall to wall. It was sweaty hot, I was dripping all over myself and with so many folks around, wiping dripping sweat was problematic. UGH !!!
I arrived at Laurier and when I came out of the station it was dark. It was close to six o’clock. It was also raining. You would have thought that it would be Pouring rain seeing how dark it was outside. By the time I made my stop, the rain was coming to an end. And it seemed a bit cooler out.
We sat a jam packed house. We split up into two groups to allow everyone to get a chance at sharing.
Tonight’s read : A.B.S.I. #68 Giving without Demand.
The read speaks about working with others, and sharing the message. And the why’s, how’s and what for’s. We give it away freely, because it came to us freely. If you try and give it away to one, and it doesn’t take, there is always someone waiting in the wings for what you have to give.
The discussion went around and around, and culminated with a consensus about what we do with what we know, how best to utilize that knowledge and how best to serve.
I noted on the way home to a friend, that our young people don’t seem to realize how much they help us to help them. Our years of time run from days to months, to multiple years. And I have said before that if you listen well to your friends, and your fellows, you learn how to help them with what you know.
But why don’t I have any sponsees? was a general question from folks with a few years.
They go to meetings, and they work, and they share, but the pigeon coop is empty.
I know for me it took a long time until the time was right to begin working with others one on one. But I also said at the meeting, that when we go to a meeting and we share from our seats, we are “working with others” because you never know when something you say will impact someone in a way that betters their journey and they learn something.
Sharing from your chair is a good way to hear yourself speak, to polish your skills at words and work, and it gives folks an opportunity to listen to you, because you never know when someone will walk up to you and ask you to work with them.
I have said before that I had to top off my tanks. And only diligent study, prayer and focus was what was necessary to ignite the universe and in turn the universe sends people to us, at the right moment, for the right reasons.
When you listen at a meeting to your fellows share themselves, the more one listens, the more time you get to hone your skills at words, and eventually you speak up and what happens is that wisdom comes to you and to those listening to you.
I don’t have all the answers. All I have is all what I have learned in 12 years and some months. And it isn’t all about me.
I had to learn, “how to learn” from people who knew how to teach and lead. I listened to people from other places, and how they did the work. And then I practiced. I worked, then the universe opened up to me. That’s how I learned to work with others. By watching others do the work.
We also heard the words, “I can’t get you sober, and you aren’t going to make me drink.”
That is a common phrase we hear from our old timers and new prospects.
In some cases, people came to me, because the moment was there for a connection, deeper than just a phone call to say hello. In other cases, the moment came amid a conversation and the opportunity presented itself to step into a working relationship. Lastly, a newcomer walks into a room seeking direction and out of ten men, I was the only one with a cell phone and offered up my number and things just went on from there.
So you never know when the opportunity to work with someone will come. Be prepared.
But when we get to the end of the first 164 pages of the Big Book, in the reading “A Vision for You” it says that once we get our house in order, we are ready to give, the caveat is that obviously, one cannot give what they don’t have.” Which means that only through learning and study and time in the rooms, can we ever learn how to be present, when to speak up, when to listen, when to step up.
It takes a fine ear to hear the “Words Between the Words.” And that takes a long time to hone.
Like I said, when the universe thinks you are ready, it sends you a nugget. It is then your choice what to do with it. Listen. Listen well.
You can’t lead another human being through the steps until you yourself have done them as well. And it may take a second pass or many passes through the steps until the right opportunity opens up. This calls for patience and humility. Multiple passes through the steps, and working with a sponsor, only deepens our knowledge of how to use what we have learned. And being able to lead from the right direction and motive.
Because if you are in it to glorify yourself or stoke your ego, better sit down and say nothing, rather than opening up your mouth and sticking your foot into it all the way up to your knees !!!
Over time, the ear is refined to hear ego speak, and know when it approaches.
Run, don’t walk, to the nearest emergency exit !!!
We’ve seen many men and women come and go. And we’ve all heard the stories about hallowed and terrible sponsors. The groups have survived them all. One must be careful, what we give and how we give it, and from what direction and our motives. You never want to make a serious situation worse, or further, cause someone to take a drink. And if they do drink, it was their choice. But better to meter your words carefully, to speak wisely and correctly.
If you don’t know what words to use, ask, or pray for wisdom.
It seems the gentle, easy path is the most fruitful. I won’t throw a book at someone who has just come in the door, or someone who has only been in for a short time.
I believe in the come in, pick your chair, sit down in that chair and get used to your chair. You will spend a lot of time in that chair. When you are ready, I am here. I wait for the moment to arrive.
In between that time I am Present. I come, I sit and I listen. And I learn about you. In turn you teach me about myself. Working close with others is a great way to see your own shortcomings and character defects. Which in turn promotes humility.
I’ve seen what happens when someone allows ego to go to their heads.
Eventually they implode. Sad but true.
I sat at the table and when we took our moment, I heard the angels sing when we prayed.
It is the highlight of the week, to sit with my friends and say that prayer together. It is home.
And for that I am grateful.
I made my trek home and when I came out of the station on my end of town, lightening was streaking across the sky. But I haven’t seen any substantial rain fall on either end. Maybe later tonight, we’ll see.
More to come, stay tuned …
The weather held. We had a couple days of sun and warmth, that will turn even hotter tomorrow and rain will follow, then temps drop into the twenties. I would rather they drop even further. We are all trying to figure out when we will take our air conditioners out of our windows and just open them up when the temps drop to teens and single digits later.
I was out on time, and cranked it out again. And even though we were down some folks, because a couple of people are on retreat until tomorrow, we sat a full table. During the discussion, one of my friends quoted the quote above during the meeting. And I am sure he saw that quote here. I don’t know anyone who curates photos the way I do, or from the same sources. I’ve never seen my curates show up anywhere else in our circles.
We read from A.B.S.I. and Living Serenely
The reading speaks of the hangover. The ones we had when we were drinking, and once we got sober, the emotional hangover that occurs over time, here and there. Old feelings of Anger, Fear and Jealousy. If we get caught up in old feelings, that is going to turn our days into rough days and even bad days.
If we get stuck in yesterday, we are loosing out on today.
The reading also speaks about inventory.
With my guys, even though they are fresh and a few are in their months, and one is in his years, I ask them to write at the end of the night. A tenth step, a review of their day, even though they are not at that place in their steps.
I encourage them to write, because the women write. I follow the same path the women work the program here. They write every night, an inventory. Then when they call their sponsors the next day, they have something concrete in front of them that they can talk about. And in that process of writing one gets used to writing right away, and not later.
Try it. It works.
To be able to sort your thoughts out onto paper or in space (read: online) every day brings another layer to sobriety. It gets you working right away.
- Sponsees call every day
- They write every night
- They work their steps and we read the book together
- And they hit meetings
The further in the game you are, the stronger your journey will be, and if you are sandwiched in the books, your sponsors and working with others, for you early sober people, you could say that going to meetings and sharing and participating, is early sandwiching. If you are in this place, I can safely say that over time the obsession to drink will leave you and the urge to drink will dissipate.
This is your journey. And if you really want it, you will go to any length to get it.
The whole point of this work is to change that which needs to be changed. And to be able to accept what God has in store for you, either good or bad. The less time we spend in the past is something we learn how to do over time. Knowing when it happens, to be able to recognize when we dip into the hole, we talk it out, and we walk it out and make the mental and/or emotional correction and we go on with our day.
That’s why it is good to start doing a nightly inventory to see what you did that day, and to be able to shift things for tomorrow, that you did not do the day prior. Lessons. It’s all about Lessons.
Acceptance is the KEY to all of our problems.
And Nothing, Absolutely Nothing, happens in God’s world by mistake.
Everything is alright in the END, if it’s not alright, its NOT the end…
Roll with the punches. Every mistake is a lesson. Every good day is bank money. The more bank you accrue, the less the bad days will take you into the hole of anger, fear and self pity.
Our new guys are doing alright tonight.
Everybody is sober another night.
I gave a six month chip to one of my guys tonight – I had been waiting all summer to hand it to him, as he was away at camp all summer, and accrued time while he was gone. So that was a good thing.
A good night was had by all …
First … I would like to take a moment to welcome all of my new readers.
There are more than 230 of you subscribed. Welcome Aboard.
Last night I spent some time working on the template. We’ve changed up the header image and also, I have added new PAGES at the top of the Blog, they can also be found along side the blog, down the right hand sidebar in the column.
The New Pages, well, old pages that I had written over the years, have made their way to the top spot, because they are important to my assorted audience.
Posts on a weekly basis include:
- Sunday Sundries
- Tuesday Vendome – We are in a 12 week Twelve and Twelve Study
- Thursday Men’s Gathering
- Friday As Bill See’s It – The end of the week round up
- And any thing that might float my boat on any given day
And as the seasons change this blog will change along with them. I have all new header images planned for the next few months. Culminating with the Great Holiday Express this Christmas.
As always, you can reach me by either leaving a comment here, or on Twitter which is also on the side bar, Facebook, or by email. If you know where to look, it is there.
Welcome Aboard and we will chat soon.
Goodnight from Montreal.
They called for rain last night (for tonight), and said the sky would open up and dump cat’s, dog’s and little fishes upon us. They said it would start early and last into the night. Well, it did rain. Once I reached where I was going, after carrying my BIG umbrella, because it was called for “STORM!”
I was ready to go early, and as I locked the door and called for the elevator, it arrived and I had forgotten my BIG umbrella, so I had to go back and get it, I missed my elevator. UGH …
It was going to be one of those days …
I made stops on the way, and got through the turnstile, and down to the platform, and as I walked onto the train, my belt popped and my pants fell down on the train. One hand was full carrying BIG umbrella, and the other was holding my phone (read: music).
I don’t often shop at Target, for reasons I will share with you now …
They day they opened, I bought a brand new pair of Skull Candy Headphones that were said to be indestructible and would never break ! 6 months later, they crapped out. My $40.00 purchase turned into a $60.00 repair mission. I am waiting for either a new pair or something like them.
Belts and I are not a very comfy couple.
I bought a belt. $30.00… Belts are expensive. This particular belt has a buckle that has two very small pins holding the belt inside the buckle. And let’s just say that the work is shoddy. That belt split in two and both pins fell out of the buckle, hence the belt became useless.
I bought a second belt not long ago (another $30.00). I refused to stand in line for a return because I did not have the receipt. Fast forward to today …
I got on the train and I felt the belt I was wearing come apart. I was not prepared to moon the train car, and I had to pocket my phone and hold my pants up by the belt strap across the transit, onto another train, across the city, up and out of the station, and walked down the hill, holding up my pants with my fingers, until I reached the church … It still had not rained yet …
I get upstairs at the church. and pull my belt out of my bag, because I had taken it off on my transfer stop. I notice that one pin is missing and the other had unwound (read: unscrewed) I don’t usually carry tools with me in my backpack. At least one screw was still there, I was able to re-screw it back into the hole, and I regained my belt.
Thankfully, I did not have to hold up my pants through the night.
It rained …
We sat a nice group. We read from the Twelve and Twelve, Step One … We are working on a 12 week study of the Twelve and Twelve.
What Man or Woman, is ready to admit complete defeat ???
I had been defeated by a faulty belt earlier.
I tell this story about living in an alcoholic home and having a top rate education on alcoholism, you’d have thought I would have learned something, I didn’t. I can’t remember the word obsession ever coming into my lexicon. I never thought about addiction either. And further, I never called myself an alcoholic, but purely, I was.
The lesson I learned the first time is, that if you get sober, and you don’t focus your energy on getting sober and staying sober (i.e. The Work) Using the book and doing the work, you probably will drink again.
The second time I got sober, it was ONLY about my alcoholism. There weren’t any other issues hanging over my head. I don’t know if I would say that my second bottom was lower than the first. The first one was really bad. The second one, not that much. I knew the end was coming. I was tired of delusional thinking and the misery of the morning after. So I stopped.
Life Did Get Better. It only took 12 years and some odd months.
I can’t tell you or stress to you how important it is to be grounded in the Book(s). Had I made this a priority the first time, and not had death staring me in the face, I would be twenty years sober this year.
Alas that did not happen.
“And even in long term sobriety, 10 plus years or more … your sobriety is totally contingent on your spiritual condition and the depth you are rooted in prayer and in the books.”
I had to get into it to reap the rewards of being in it. And they did come.
The ability to give it away, properly, in my opinion, rests in the time you have spent studying the books, saying ones prayers, and working in the books. Until I had sunk into the books, with my sponsor, I was ill prepared to give it away, further than showing up at a meeting and sharing.
It took a year of work, prayer and study, for God to say, “ok, you are ready to give it away, here are your guys … One, Two, and Three … Bing, Bang, Boom !!!”
I am powerless over alcohol, but my life, today, is manageable. The second part of Step One speaks to being powerless over People, Places and Things.
It took a very long time to understand and be able to accept this little fact. However hard I try to please someone, or get someone’s attention, or their approval, i am powerless over people.
The other note I have written in my 12 and 12, at the back of Step One is this …
“While you are in a meeting, your alcoholism is out in the parking lot doing pushups, just waiting for you to come out and take you down.”
I have a friend, in the rooms today, who I have known since the day I arrived here. We were sober together, but he, like many, did not stick and stay.
I am nearing thirteen years, and on this past Sunday he took his Three Month Chip.
A long time ago, (seven or eight years ago) I was at my home group, and some Bozo came in and told me that this same friend committed suicide and was dead. Today, you don’t really hear much gossip like we used to hear. And those jokers are no longer around.
I was not happy and very sad. The one thing you never want to hear about a friend in the room is that he or she is dead, by their own hands. I did not trust this news because, One, that the news came from that particular man, and Two. that in the end, it was just gossip. And when I learned that it was just gossip, I spared not the rod, nor my wrath on him. He did not stick around after that.
Fast Forward to today… I am sitting with this friend and I am so amazed that he is back and sober today. And I was really grateful that he was sitting across from me, alive and well.
I mean it was like a palpable feeling of warmth.
After the meeting I spoke to him and reminded him of that story. And told him how happy I was to see him alive, well and sober once again. And that I remember what it felt like to hear another member tell me that he was dead. My friend is a unique snowflake. There are no other men like him in my life and for that matter, in our rooms.
He is totally special to me because of the long time friendship we share.
I have learned a great deal from him. While he was sober, but more, in why he drank again, and in watching that happen, I learned from him what Not To Do … Spend a number of years in the same room with the same people, you will find that if you stay sober, every person who walks into that room, on any given night, is your teacher.
Only if you pay attention, listen and learn.
The numbers of folks who have come in and either gone out or disappeared is high. I have a ton of stories about these people, many of whom I have already written about in the past.
Our little group is sober another night.
I am grateful on purpose again…
I have been feeling a lot of palpable gratitude as of late. It feels great.
Oh and by the way, when I got home, I found a screw in my toolbox and fixed my belt. Hopefully I have renewed its worth a bit…
More to come, stay tuned …
It is the end of the week. All is quiet on the Western Front. The night time temps have dropped ever so slightly, enough that a second layer is comfortable, but not too warm. I broke out the fleece hoodie I love.
I had set my alarm clock when I went to bed last night, and woke up early, as usual. I never sleep up to the bell. I am usually 20 minutes early. When I got up I was a little foggy, I was getting ready to Get Ready to go and realized that I had two hours instead of one until my usual departure.
I downloaded a Brazilian Movie … “The Way He Looks.” Hoje EuQuero Vollar Sozinho.
It is in Portuguese and has no subtitles. UGH … There have been a bunch of Gif’s on Tumblr from the movie itself that I find romantic and cute. Today someone posted the title of the movie and I actually found it. Something to do later.
I left a few minutes late, and got all the way to my bus connection, there was about twenty people ahead of me in the line up and no bus. We waited. A bus pulled up and stopped short of the stop itself where you get on the bus. The driver got out … She got out of the bus, and walked towards the drop zone of that same bus/metro stop as it approaches the terminus at that station, she got on a second bus that eventually pulled up behind her bus, and both drivers took off for the kiosk to get munchies.
Transit workers, Police and Firefighters are in a battle with the city over their pensions, and trains buses, police cars and firetrucks are festooned with protest stickers. Some are covered all over the place. (I’m not sure how you get all that sticky-ness off of a vehicle or the trains and sorts.)
Transit workers come to work in street clothes, and they take their time when it comes to schedules, but they aren’t supposed to derail timetables and schedules. Both buses were loading passengers and I opted for the first bus at the stop. I got on the bus, ready to swipe my card …
And she smiled at me … It was just one of those moments.
I rode to my stop and arrived early as usual and we set up and chatted a bit. We sat a full house, but not enough for groups.
There are moments during our days, that time seems to stop. When our chair opened the meeting, we usually start with a moment of silence for the alcoholic who still suffers, but tonight she added that maybe we could take that moment and remember that darkest point when we took that last drink, and what it felt like, prior to the Serenity Prayer.
Take a moment … Think … Remember … Prayer …
And then it happened. I was sitting in a room full of my friends I truly care about, and we said the Serenity Prayer with those thoughts on our minds.
It was like music to God being sung…
I don’t know, it just hit me squarely. It was one of those moments, suspended between time and space.
So that was a thing …
The reading: “Renew your Effort.” from A.B.S.I. pg 68
Speaks to a slip, and the feelings of shame, guilt and regret.
Not everybody that comes in the door the first time, “get’s it” and remains sober. Many of us have a slip or two in our stories, some have more, but at the Friday meeting, our sober quotient is very high.
There is nothing more disconcerting than that look of “pity” from folks, when one comes in, off a slip, Or that one might look down upon, or shame another because of a slip. We work very hard on Friday’s to be as loving and welcoming to everyone, no matter where they came from on any given night.
And that approach has served us well, and carried our friends who have slipped into longer periods of sobriety this time around.
I never understood the feelings of someone who got stuck in the revolving door, until I got to that point in my own story. I learned what that felt like. Letting my friends down who cared about me. Letting down the meeting that supported me. Giving back that perfectly wrapped gift from God and said
“Nope, you can have it, I don’t want it any more…”
I got sober in the same city, where I had been sober before. The good thing was that I was on the beach, and the club room was in the city. City folks and beach folks usually do not mix, and that was the case for me, but word did travel, when I got back in, that I was sober again. And three weeks in, the second time around, I met all my friends at a midnight meeting, just before Christmas.
I was waiting for that Pity look. I am sure as shit, people were thinking it, because I was.
I got hugs and pats on the back, and a welcome. That is what I needed. Because I was assaulting myself with guilt, shame and remorse for weeks. It took me about two months to get over it soberly.
The reading says “… could I also suggest that you look at excessive guilt for what it is? Nothing but a sort of reverse pride. A decent regret for what has happened is fine. But guilt – No.”
A slip just doesn’t happen. There are usually extenuating circumstances that contribute to a slip. A situation or a problem. Self doubt, or self hatred. For myself, it was a hole in my chest that nobody else could see, but I knew was there, and I had to fill it. It was a cathartic need to fill it, and I went to every length to try and do that, To My Own Detriment.
Which probably contributed to the length of time it took me to reach my Second Last Drink.
We are all sober tonight. It was a beautiful night. People are coming and going. Some are moving away for school this term and tonight was their last night with us until the Fall Term ends in November, which is bittersweet. Friends are back from vacation. it was good to see and be seen.
All is well.
More to come, stay tuned …
It has been a very nice, quiet week so far. All the pieces have lined up in our favor. And we began to rebuild our empire from the pit we have been in for so long. The weather has been stellar as of late. There was cloud in the sky, and it piddled a little before the meeting tonight.
And looking out from my balcony, over to Cabot Square and as far as I can see, the first signs of Fall have begun to appear. On the grand scheme, the signs are still not apparent. But on the small scale, if you know what you are looking for, the signs are there, namely that there are a handful of trees in our neighborhood, looking down from above, that have begun to lighten, ever so slightly.
In the sea of green the one off tree amongst the many, lighter shades are there.
Amazing, we are at the end of August already. Labor Day is this weekend. Students go back to school next week, and the march to Thanksgiving will begin in earnest very soon. It will be a grand affair this year with the infusion of funds into the house as of late.
So that is a thing …
*** *** *** ***
What’s up with that car you ask ???
A good friend moved to Pittsburgh recently to pursue his PHD. A very daunting task at that.
Monday was his first day of class. And upon arriving at the university, this car, posted above (imagine in your minds eye, a fully operational and intact vehicle) was sitting on the quad, as you can see in the photo.
There were people gathered around it, and someone had a sledge hammer in their hands and was pounding the car with all they had. So He had to find out what was going on. Upon closer observation, a group was hosting this event, and for the price of a Dollar($$$), you too could bash the hell out of this car too.
Unable to pass up a great deal, (to work off those pre-class jitters) He paid his dollar and heaped tons of abuse on the already falling apart car.
Have you ever seen a “Let’s sledge hammer this car to death event” on a university campus before?
Not me …
*** *** *** ***
It was a regular Thursday night. I had stops to make on the way, so I left early. I had chores to do at the church, before we settled into the evenings groove. Namely, those little pegs you find in build project from IKEA, were a serious problem for our little “cabinet that could.”
Every time you put something on “that” particular shelf, it would fall, and the pegs scatter all over the floor or into the assorted boxes we have in the cabinet. So, with trusty Elmer’s Glue in hand, I attempted to fix said cabinet, which took me considerably longer than I had expected because the pegs were scattered all over the place and getting the shelf (out of/and into) the cabinet is a chore in itself, and trying NOT to knock the glued pegs out of their slots was the goal, that took some work …
Hopefully the pegs will never fall out of their holes ever again after tonight.
We sat a small group. We have been members short as of late. Our business meeting was painless and went off without a hitch. We read from the Daily Reflections, August 19 …
A Frame of Reference…
Which speaks to the 4th Step, even though we are in the eighth month of the year, which is solely centered on the Step of the corresponding month.
“Referring to our list (inventory) again, Putting out of our minds the wrongs others had done, we resolutely looked for our own mistakes. Where had we been selfish, dishonest, self-seeking and frightened?” B.B. Pg. 67
This portion of the step concerns the fourth column. The one all about us.
There are many people working their step four,as dictated by the Vermont Men’s Step intensive group members. Myself, My sponsor, Other men who we are both sponsoring, and so on and so forth.
It is a departure from the normal “by the book” process. And is done in stages. Stage one deals with your history from birth to the present day, Stage two deals with Fears, Guilts and Resentments. I am stuck at this stage two until the end of the weekend, when my sponsor finishes his up while out of town.
And with tonight’s discussion, I am rethinking my Step as it has panned out.
As a child I grew up in a home that had mixed messages, and assorted frames of reference. I had no voice, no way to defend myself, and no ability to speak my mind. I was forced to play by the rules dictated to me. I made decisions as a young person.
The first major decision I made as a teen ager was to move out of the house and on my own.
I could not be gay in my home.
I could no longer live by the dictates of my father
The abuse was too much and too frequent.
Was that choice selfish? Yes.
But every decision after that was a total failure.
From the age of twenty six to twenty eight, I was forced to make decisions based on self preservation. And I am not sure if self preservation can be considered self centered or selfish? The times dictated that certain decisions be made or else death was a serious end of things.
So I made them. But not alone.
They say when you slip that in essence, “you are giving God’s gift back to Him, saying I don’t want it any more…” I made that decision, on my own, to my own detriment.
Purely selfish and self centered.
During that first sobriety, prior to my slip, I began to construct the life I thought I wanted at that time. Changes I thought were necessary to achieve that, had to be made, so I made a first decision.
Self preservation … Selfish or self centered? You tell me …
After my slip, and in a sober frame of mind, I chose to continue constructing the life I thought I wanted at that time. These decisions would be the final death knell to who I was, in opt for who I wanted to become and where I was going to live and how I was going to do that and get there.
Self preservation… Selfish or Self Centered? You tell me …
I pissed off the right people. People who made my life meaningless, and abused and degraded me. I took a spoon and dug my father’s heart out of his chest and handed it to him on a platter.
Fuck you. Watch this. This is totally about ME.
Coming from where I was (at that time) socially, mentally and economically, bankrupt and poor and living below the poverty level, to where I am today, food, meds, a roof and a life that I could not have imagined thirteen years ago, I made these decisions for self preservation.
Extenuating Circumstances you might say ???
To this day, for some, my voice has been silenced. To this day, for some, my life is inconsequential and unimportant and unworthy of mention.
I benefited from my decisions. Solely made for my benefit as an adult. I struck out for new shores with life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness in mind, and I got it in spades today.
You can’t choose your family. And having three strikes against you is terminal justice for them.
Every time I go back and look at this step as I am working it, I ask these questions of myself, in front of my peers and my fellows. I am not looking for approval. Because this is who I am today. I did these things. And if I am guilty for self preservation, then I am guilty as charged.
No one in my family stood by me when the chips fell where they did. And to this day, they refuse contact so my steps will be woefully incomplete when I finish them, because in the end I won’t get the end I think I deserve or what any loving, feeling human being is deserved by right of existence.
So be it … This is my lot.
So that is a thing as well.
It was a good night. Everybody is sober and happy.
More to come, stay tuned …
The weather has been stellar, very warm and sunny. The Farmers Almanac was published yesterday for the Fall predictions. Environment Canada also published their Fall predictions as well. Both surveys tell us that we should have our Indian Summer continue through October. However November calls for wet and cold weather, and into December, the Polar Vortex should return, hopefully not as bad as it did last Winter. All these predictions rely on an El Nino in the Pacific Ocean.
It was a quiet weekend. Everybody is doing well. The numbers are returning. We are sitting good numbers across the city. Tonight was no different. We sat a fair group. We read through the circle and back to the start, and everybody got in on the discussion.
Building a New Life …
We are still in the Low Bottom stories, and the insanity factor is very high. None of our folks had sunk to the levels our writer did tonight. The one thought that repeated itself over the shares was the fact that “when we start drinking, our emotional quotient remains that age, throughout our drinking story.” This thought was repeated several times. My drinking took off in my twenties. And I had a brief growth spurt at age 26, through 28. I had no choice, when I got sober the first time, to grab the bull by the horns and ride him out. It was either learn or die.
I had that time under my belt. The second time I got sober, delusional as I was, fear of growing older was omnipresent. I really tried to hang on to something that I certainly could not hold on to. It was either grow up or die, a second time.
All that I have and all that I am, came from the rooms, and from the people in the rooms. It was as if, as soon as I put down roots here, soberly, life began in earnest. I was not sure if I was ready, but life certainly took off within months of my arriving here. The rest they say is history.
It was not easy. Every lesson learned was done by the book, through the rooms, tried and tested and retested over and over. Sobriety came in cycles. I’d hear something, or I’d read it from the book. We would talk about it in a meeting, then I would get “think time” and then God would go … “Ok, so you got this lesson? Let’s see you put it into practice.”
Rinse, Wash and Repeat …
So here is where I am today.
On an entirely New Note …
A few weeks ago, one of my long time friends sent a notice out that his new album would be dropping the coming week. That friend would be the One and Only Lucas Mire, from Atlanta Georgia. I’ve been following him for years, and have in my music collection several of his albums.
If you go to Lucas Mire.com
There is his music page. You can order his latest work “Hey Day” from Band Camp. You get one of two choices, a physical CD, or a Digital Download, if you don’t need the jewel case. Over the weekend Lucas was sending out pre-orders. I was waiting for my electronic notice from Band Camp, which magically appeared this afternoon.
So I brought it down and put it into my phone. I am happy to say that Hey Day is a really great album. Probably the best sound Lucas has ever produced. If you live in Atlanta, you can usually find him at Eddie’s Attic. One of the clubs, Lucas is known to play in.
I was at the church this evening setting up, with Lucas in my headphones. I had sent him a note on Face book before I left. And he replied that he released the album three days early for ME !!
Buy the album. Go, Now, Buy It !!!
A good night was had by all.
More to come. Stay tuned …
Lifted From: Sects and Violence in the Ancient World
Children brought up in a religious environment, according to a recent BBC story, are more prone to believe in fictional characters. The story, based on research from my alma mater, Boston University, suggests that if children are taught to believe miraculous stories at a young age, they will more likely believe that fictional figures are based in reality too.
Undoubtedly this will be seen as yet another brick in Montresor’s wall by those who can find no good in religion. The reasoning will go something like this: believing in no religion is the “neutral” position. If we raise children in a religious context, we are inclining them toward a fictional belief system and making them less likely to reason their way out of it. Therefore, we should raise children secular.
Even in the BBC story there are dissenting voices. Perhaps children who learn about Jesus find Thor a more compelling character. Perhaps they are open to possibilities that logic shuts out. Our brains have two hemispheres for a reason. I often wonder whether it is possible to be fully human while ignoring about half of what evolution gave us to work with.
Logic tells me that religious belief serves a survival function. And my creative side still appreciates the possibilities that my Manhattan brain is forced to shut down every day when I punch the clock. If there’s nothing more than work, perhaps believing in fiction serves a valuable function after all. But I suspect this is playing right into the rationalists’ hand. Pass me another brick, will you, Fortunato?
The jury, however, is still out on the nature of reality. Even for materialists. Gods of the gaps tend not to survive very well. The question is actually much larger than that. We don’t know the nature of ultimate reality. We’re not even sure what reality is yet.
Can a parent who believes in God, after the experience of growing to maturity in a heartless universe, be blamed for teaching their children the same? No humane parent raises their child purposefully teaching them falsehoods. Yes, some children are damaged by religious upbringings. Some are damaged by materialist upbringings as well.
What seems to have shifted, in my humble opinion, is the popular perceptions of religion. What used to be understood as the foundation of a civil society is now challenged as a harmful fantasy that encourages children to grow up into terrorists or non-functioning adults.
The belief that we can raise children with no biases, however, is clearly fiction. Until we have the full truth, there should be room for both Gilligan and the Professor on this island. But then again, I was raised to believe in the divine world, so what do I know?
*** *** *** ***
I am a child of the 1970’s,80’s and beyond. Now in my late 40’s I can reflect on what I have learned so far, and be able to look back on what I learned early on. If you grew up in this period of time, then you will get all these references that I am about to write about.
I come from a Catholic background. And back in the day there was much family and prayer, saints and church. But aside from all of that there were many outings and adventures.
The first movies I remember were Old Yeller, Bambi, and the much anticipated Star Wars. We went to see the very first installment at Twin City Theatres in New Britain Ct. I’d never seen anything like it. Nobody had.
And as I look back on 47 years of life. we can safely say that George Lucas gave the world something to believe in. Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away …
CUE Music ….
I never thought about religion or God when viewing these movies. Fictional characters were larger than life. Luke, Leia, Obi Wan and of course Yoda. Then you had the dark side represented by Darth Vader. Those movies were stories for the ages.
Faith – Power – Good – Evil – The Light – and The Darkness – Family Etc …
I would not realize what that meant for a very long time. And cannot be seen unless in retrospect. From this side of the story and not the earlier. As the next two motion pictures came out, the story filled out and we got a few steps closer to the depth and gravity of the story.
I remember sitting in the Falls Theatre, I was a teen ager by now, watching Return of the Jedi and I had a spiritual experience watching Luke being tortured by the Sith Lord. And Darth coming to his rescue. I felt emotions that I could not name, however they were occurring at that time.
That whole series of movies were existential and spiritual for me. There are no two ways about it. They certainly made an impact in my life and the way I chose to live it after all these years.
The whole cosmic universe of Star Wars was a teaching in religion and faith from a distant galaxy. I know that now, having studied the worlds greatest religions in university and spent 47 years getting to know God myself.
Over the decades we played with toys, you know we all had them. We built legos and star fighters. We had the figurines. And we believed that those people were indeed real because George Lucas brought them to our collective consciousnesses. Amid all that was going on in the world, we could escape into the universe of Star Wars when ever we wanted to.
I know we have all seen the Star Wars Trilogy and the subsequent prequels several times over, I know I have. What was more important was that in the 70’s and 80’s we got to live on Tatooine, and live the life of Luke and his family, like they were our family.
We learned all the teachings of Yoda. And I am sure we can all quote word for word every sentence he spoke from every movie he was in. I know for myself that I still cling to those words and I have applied them to my life and I use them in the work that I do today with others.
Do or Do Not … There is No Try !!!
Yoda, you seek Yoda, Take you to him …
Yoda was a teacher, and I am positive that the world is a better place because of him and the other teachers of the stories. Escapism, either good or bad, can lead to spiritual awakening or another. And I believe that my horizons were broadened in the experience of these stories.
God or the universe, what ever you called it then, existed. I believe that those movies fueled the hearts and minds of millions over the decades. I think it was a bit special to be of the generation to have experienced Star Wars in Theatre as they were released.
Today’s generation, only get them on dvd. They did not get to see the movies on Big Screens. When they did the digital reload of the films, I got to see them on DVD, I own the collection today.
I don’t know if the impact of these films were or are as great as when they were first released. Times were different. We did not have the internet or social media, and today’s kids are too engrossed with technology to sit for a long period of time and concentrate on anything that isn’t connected to Twitter, Facebook or a Cell Phone.
I know that my love of music, from the 70’s onwards was part of my lexicon. The movies were as well. And when finally cable tv came to Florida when I was a teen ager, we got to see much more film and programming.
Things were much simpler in those days. We had each other. We had family, we had friends, whom we shared our greatest treasures with. Music, Film and TV.
In the last fifteen years, Peter Jackson gave us the Hobbit and all those stories. I read them in school, and I have the books in my library, but I did not take to them like I took to Star Wars and other stories.
We had the Tween movies of late.
And then there is Harry Potter.
Harry Potter. Do you dig him like I do?
I fell into Harry Potter because of my therapist who’s office was decorated in Harry Potter Sheik. When we were talking I gravitated towards him, because I felt like an orphan and I was alone in my life and I really needed certain direction.
When I learned that Harry and I shared a birthday in common, I was hooked. It is also J.K. Rowling’s Birthday as well. I have every book and related story that was published. All the monster books, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and of course all of the books, and every dvd that was produced.
I remember the day the first Harry Potter movie came out, I was living on South Beach and I bought two tickets and I had to watch the first one by myself, however hard a good friend tried to go with me, I insisted we take in the second showing together.
I think I had the first three books by the time I moved here to Montreal in 2002. And Montreal does books very well. Each subsequent release was an event to partake. The book stores were decorated, the employees dressed up and there were hundreds of people who would come to partake and be sorted into houses and then wait for hours until the midnight release time to get your next book.
Harry Potter is another Story for the Ages. No matter where you live, or who you are, unless of course you derided magic and everything to do with Harry, you got hooked, at least I did.
I got to grow up all over again.
I even have my own wand that my therapist gave me when I moved here. Harry Potter fandom is not isolated. The world was taken by him and the story.
I loved reading. And if you search Harry on my blog here you will find hundreds of entries about him. When each book came out I would sit a read through the entire book in one fell swoop. I did that for all of the books.
And to this day, I have several Harry Potter books along side my bed at arms reach so that I can read certain chapters over and over again. I loved Harry, but silently I always rooted for Ron Weasley. The stalwart sidekick who always got second billing.
Hogwarts was a place we could all believe in.
The battle for Good over Evil.
The importance of Family and of Memory.
The value of Friendship and Honor.
The incalculable potency of certain magic.
If you’ve read the Deathly Hallows, then you understand these things.
Like Star Wars, for the older set of folks who are reading, Harry Potter was of this age, something to cling to, to honor, to love and to cherish. We all know what house we belong to.
I am a Gryffindor… I was sorted a long time ago.
And I think we all strive to be a little like our counterparts from the stories. And I think we carry a little of each character/person into our daily lives.
So what does God have to do with any of this?
Do you believe in God? Did you believe in the Star Wars Universe? Were you a Trekkie? Are you a Potter Head? Do you have a favorite story or set of books you would carry with you to your grave and believe strongly in the story, its characters and the words on the page?
Does your faith in God battle with the Gods and Characters of Fiction?
I say that if you have a solid faith in God, or in the faith you practice, then none of this should shake that foundation. That has been the battle for the last ten years for some, people get all in arms over religion and faith, that any little chink in the chain rattles them to high heaven. God forbid …
Can you find or did you find room in your religious/spiritual lexicon to include all those favorite characters you have read in your lifetime as a belief system?
And does the fictional world augment or detract from your religious/spiritual life?
Can both exist in the same space/mind? And if it can how has it impacted the life you live and the way you work with and or relate to others?
I just thought that this was an interesting post, originally found on his blog. I said as much, in fewer words there the other night.
I hope you enjoyed this post. If you like it, give it a thumbs up.
More to come, stay tuned …
It is Sunday …. My favorite day of the week… Well, second favorite behind Friday Nights.
Another weekend in the books. Not a whole lot going on. Mother Nature has heaped shitty weather upon us for the last week, and tonight I listened to many grumble about the weather. There is a marked change in the weather as of late.
I think the seasons are beginning to turn ever so slowly.
Fall does not begin for some time, but that never stopped mother nature from dropping pissy weather on us for days at a time.
All the pieces came together tonight. The entire team of players was present, which makes a meeting all the more polished. And we sat a fair number. And we both read/and/discussed the entire circle with a short overage.
Tonight’s story – Twice Gifted.
When you get sober, at some point in your sober journey, you may hear another human being tell your story, sometimes exactly. It may take some time, but the odds are good that there is someone out there who has lived your story in their lives.
Then there is the second option. That eventually you will open the book and read a story and come to find that the writer of said story lived your life and has written it down for your benefit, and to the benefit of others.
For myself, I am mentioned twice in the book. Once as an alcoholic tornado running roughshod through the life of someone else. And that episode cost me a very good friend and ended a wonderful relationship.
The second time was in the above mentioned story. It so happened tonight that when the reading got to me, I started my paragraph and quickly noticed that it was word for word, my life in print. Kind of eery if you ask me.
The writer does not stop at drinking young, she gets to the point that her drinking has caused her to suffer cirrhosis of the liver, and required a liver transplant, which she indeed gets, which leads to sobriety.
How many alcoholics suffer illness of one form or another stemming from their abuse of alcohol?
And how many alcoholics ended up with life threatening illnesses directly related to the abuse of alcoholism?
I listened to the rest of the story that was read tonight and a thought came to mind.
When I was a child, my grandfather was a drunk. And suffered cirrhosis of the liver, he also had a stroke and those combined took him to his death when I was a teenager. There was no love lost there.
My father was also an alcoholic, but not to that extent. He skated by, and how he skated by I do not know, because he was a top notch drinker, along with my mother.
And I mused tonight … I read the book each week. And the more I read, I came to the realization during tonight’s read that as a young boy, the Big Book was open and was happening all around me, in living color, for me to see and experience. Alcoholism was rampant. Nobody said anything about it, perish the thought. I watched the consequences happen for people who drank too much, several times over.
Nobody knew from recovery or quitting the drinking.
And You think I would have learned something, as in (Don’t do this too!!!)
Nope, Nada, Nothing.
I can’t tell you when or why I contracted AIDS. I was involved with someone (read:James) who had it, but I did not learn this fact until after he killed himself. I do remember on several occasions coming to the end, being in the wrong place, doing things I should not have been doing with people, I was drinking around the clock.
Back in the day you could drink 23 hours a day, and on several occasions, I took the city up on that offer. I could drink happy hour away, drink through the night, drink after hours till the bars closed, then take an hours break, and start all over again the next morning. I was young and back then I was still pretty, until I got tainted. Alcohol facilitated many episodes between other alcoholics, which may be construed as quite possibly, unsafe, sexually …
Peeling back the onion the longer I am sober, takes me back to places I haven’t thought about in more than twenty years. But that’s what the stories are there for, to remind you of how insane your drinking was ( read: in your case-based on your history).
When life is fueled by alcohol, and everyone you knew, drank, and every day of your life revolves around the drink, you don’t think about stopping, nor do you think about anyone else who is not directly involved with imbibing. And that was the story of my twenties, until I was diagnosed in 1994, then everything changed.
Life had finally caught up with me and I was slapped with a severe dose of reality.
Death was the end, that’s how it was supposed to end.
God had other plans for me.
Once you get sober, the beginning is the outside job. You get cleaned up. You might even get new clothes. You wash and get to your first meeting. The longer you stay sober, and you begin to peel the onion, the job moves inside. And for the rest of your days, you will be peeling back the onion, the job is never over, and never ends, (unless of course you drink again).
It was a great night. Lots of good people, coming together to be together, and everyone is eternally grateful for having a place to go …
More to come, I still have a post to finish.
Last night we heard from a second of my men, who is moving his family back to Oshawa to his family home where the kids will have a house, a yard and parks to play in close to home, which is a big change from their 3 1/2 here in Montreal. That move takes place in a fortnight.
My third and final man is coming home in the days to come, which will be exciting since he has been gone all summer long at camp.
The Friday night commute was quick and painless, and we set up quickly and quietly. Then everyone came for the Friday night meet and greet. It was a full house by the time the meeting ended. We talked about prayer, and we talked about God.
At some point in the game, you get to God. And the Book speaks about the “spiritual experience” and the “psychic change” that has to come about to guarantee a sober life.
Everyone has a story. And at some point or other, in our drinking story, that we get to the end and we say …”God, help me, I can’t go on like this any longer !” In case of Fire, Break Glass…
There has been a lot of talk about religious faith amongst my fellows, which I am going to write about in a separate post later tonight. I read an interesting post last night about religious faith and the belief in fictional characters we find in pop culture and in film. But more on that later.
I’ve noticed along the way that there are buzz words and concepts that have popped up this time around that did not come to mind the first time around, not that I remember. That was more than twenty years ago now.
When I hit my slip, I surely was not thinking about God. He never came up. I never thought about Him. And the thought did not come to mind until I had had my last drink and I finally called out for help. I prayed, and I believe that that is all He needed to hear. You see, God allows us to do what we are going to do, usually He doesn’t act, unless we are in peril, for some.
Over there —> in the Pages if you look down to “Naked and Sacred” you can read my story about my relationship with God, when it started and how I got here.
God was part of my life. I went to church, I attended seminary, visited the Vatican. God and I were close. And as long as I remained “on the beam” my life was pretty sweet. Everything went according to plan, it was never my plan, per se, but it was a plan that worked.
But every time I stepped “off the beam” my life became a real shit storm.
I have had several shit storms in my life. Most of my twenties, half of my thirties. I had brief connection when I got sober the first time, but I account that survival to people and not God. But in hindsight, I have said that when I really needed God, (read: my diagnosis) He came to me in human form. I was so satisfied with my job and the people in my life, I really did not think about God, because He was there, right in front of me.
The second time around I learned how to trust God all over again. And I have said that from the moment I put down the drink, God moved heaven and earth to get me here. And He was running the show. I have stayed “on the beam.”
When I hit my ten year anniversary, the theme of that anniversary was ” I Thirst” a meditation from the journals of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. It would not come to pass for another couple of years that God spoke to me. At the West island Roundup in 2013, I met Lorna Kelly. She went to Calcutta and worked along side the sisters and had a relationship with Mother Teresa for years, prior to her death, and later spoke in the case for her canonization.
Anyways … I read both her books. The Camel Knows the Way and In the Footsteps of the Camel. In the story in the first book is all about Calcutta. Lorna steps into the chapel and there stenciled on the wall next to the crucifix are the words … ” I Thirst.” It floored me.
It was also at that roundup that my prayer life got a huge jump start. I was coasting. And the fire that was lit pushed me to new lengths in my prayer life. And from that blossomed a new sponsor, sponsees and something entirely new for my sobriety.
But as of late, I’ve had problems finding God. I know He is there, but there are times that I can’t see him, or I forget to call out His name. And that usually happens when I am stuck on my hamster wheel obsessing or worrying about things that are way outside of my control.
In certain situations, the older I get the angrier I get about people and situations. I imagine in my minds eye that adults grow up eventually and we reach a point that darkness is overcome by the light.
That hasn’t happened yet for me.
I spoke about it last night again, because we read on resentments and anger. And throughout the meeting I heard the the older men speak, and we got two round robins in and I heard those sentences from the book that makes sense of everything that is going on …
- ACCEPTANCE is the KEY to ALL my problems and that
- NOTHING absolutely NOTHING happens in God World by Mistake.
God is in control, to the extent we allow that control. But God allows for self will. And when we take back our will, it usually ends up in self will run riot. I would rather not be in that place.
Where ever you are at what ever time it is, no matter what day it is, we are right where we need to be at any given moment on any given day. And that if nothing happens by mistake and I an right where I should be, then I can let go of my expectations and my fears and my pains of heart.
I got here right? Well, God got me here.
I am powerless over people, places and things.
I’ve read countless books about Karma, Family, Parables, Teachings.
One book I love is The Journey Home – a Kryon Parable.
In it the lead character looses his parents very young, and spirals into a pit of depression and loneliness until he winds up in hospital because of a robbery gone very wrong. In the story he gets to take a journey through seven Angelic Houses. And learns many lessons about life.
When we are born, we incarnate in groups usually. Everybody has their prescribed roles, agreed upon before we get here. And certain people may not be on board for the entire journey, because each contract is different. And we may not get very far, but far enough to the point that we either move apart or we die.
I believe that my family had a very short contract. We only got so far before we parted ways and i went on with my life by myself. And I wonder why that happened, well I know why, I am Gay, HIV+ and I live in another country now. Grounds for immediate dismissal.
So that is a thing.
I pray for the time when everybody grows up to a point that communication is possible. But I am not hedging my bets. Cue resentment and anger.
I must go on trusting that God knows what He is doing. Can you see I have trust issues?
I am right where I need to be and there are no mistakes.
I must connect daily, many times a day. I must be humble and get on my knees and pray.
There are no two ways around it.
I must remain “On the Beam.”
It is getting late and I have a second post to finish.
More to come, stay tuned …
It has been a very sad twenty four hours. And I am conflicted.
Up front we must remember that:
- Never judge another human being, because you really don’t know the struggles they have.
- Tolerance for those with different struggles
- But for the grace of God, That could have been me.
- Every Life is sacred, and we should never take life lightly, or decide to end it prematurely.
I have always said, that if I drank again, I am not sure that I would have another recovery in me because I have used up all my chits. People are talking. And once again, we face the stigma of mental illness and the added struggles of addiction and alcoholism.
I wonder if he had a sponsor? I wonder who he was talking to, because in the end, he wasn’t talking to anyone but himself. And the pain must have been immense to decide to take his life while there were people in the house that could have stopped him.
Married folks usually sleep in the same bed. But they did not. And he went to bed alone, got up alone, and took his life alone.
I’ve seen friends with twenty or more years of sobriety go back out and drink again. For some, to drink was a conscious choice. They knew they were going to do it and they did.
And if they do that, the odds on return get slim, the more time you have.
Alcoholism is the disease that in hushed tones, speaks to us, ever so quietly, “come on, you know you want one, and yes, you can have one, it really isn’t a problem.”
One of my close friends of many years, suffered from breast cancer. Beat it, went through surgery, chemo, reconstruction and came out the other end and one night at dinner, she drank, and not only once, it went on and on.
For months I spoke to her daily, and she did not tell me she wanted to drink, nor that she HAD drank. And one night at a meeting, she got up and took a desire chip. I was so angry. Words were spoken, and our friendship died in that moment. I haven’t seen her since.
It is common to watch people with substantial sober time go out and drink again.
It is terrible and sad.
My sponsor told us and others at the meeting that if we had a sponsor, made use of them, we did not drink, and hit a meeting and worked our steps, that we would not drink today.
His line is very simple… If I did not drink today, it was a good day.
I have several truths.
- I suffer from depression
- I have lost love to suicide, so I know how that feels, and what it took for me to recover.
- I am an alcoholic, who by the grace of God, hasn’t had a drink in almost thirteen years.
- Suicide is NEVER the answer. No matter what.
When James killed himself in 1993, I was devastated. I was the one who went to the morgue to identify what was left of him due to decomposition. And it was his mother who said to me on the day I signed his remains to be transported home that “For the rest of my life, I hope that when you close your eyes before you go to sleep each night, you see his dead body.”
To this day, if I close my eyes, I can see him lying on that gurney DEAD.
You know what I did on the way home? I went to the bar and drank myself into oblivion. And I did that for days, weeks, a month. Until Todd and Bill stepped in and got me help. I sat in a survivors of suicide group for weeks and weeks.
I’ve seen trauma, I have watched my friends die on my watch. When I was diagnosed I needed serious help. I was suicidal. But there were active people in my life who were there to help me and get me the help I needed. I was not alone.
Why was there nobody who knew what was going on with him? Where was his wife, who was in the house, who did not check on him, and left him there.
People suffer from the “2000 pound phone syndrome.” Addicts, alcoholics and regular people just like you. We’d rather suffer in silence, than pick up that phone to ask for help, because nobody would understand what we are going through and if we are in pain, we do not speak that pain for fear of judgment.
So we suffer in silence.
That is why we go to meetings, we have sponsors and we take numbers.
So that you are no longer alone and that someone will care when you decide to call.
Hubby is Bi-Polar. I lived through his diagnosis. I lived through months of testing drugs until we found the mixture that worked. And I live with the man he is today, because I remember the man he was when I met him. And I was In it to Win It. I married him for all those reasons we speak in our vows. I live them every day of my life. He is never alone.
So we restate that when someone goes out and drinks again, after however long they are sober, the chances of them returning are very slim.
There is a gamut of feelings that take place when we go out.
- beating ones self up
- self loathing
I know I felt a number of these when I finally decided to come back. And it probably would have been worse, had I had a real chunk of sober time that I pissed away.
Which brings up another point. I know what was going on when I went out, and what mistakes I made with the decision to do what I did. TODAY, I know what happens when someone chooses to drink again. I am connected in ways I was never so connected, back in the day.
They say that we plan our slips. And there are only a few inches between us and that next drink. The space that lies between the bar top and our mouths. Just a reach away.
Addiction and alcoholism can be managed. But it takes someone willing to go to any length to stay sober. And even that is a slim proposition. I see people come in and warm a chair for months and months and then decide that a drink would feel better, and they drink again.
At some point we (read:Me) reaches out to a newcomer to get them connected to what they need to be doing so that they don’t have to make that decision. Once they are connected, the decision is already made for them.
I wonder what sober circles for celebrities looks like? Are they in it to Win It?
Depression, on top of addiction and alcoholism is a trifecta that can kill.
And it did. AGAIN.
Usually, when the pain gets so bad that you cannot see light at the end of the tunnel, and you decide to either (1) get help or (2) take your life … there are options.
Suicide is Never an option.
But when we get into that tunnel vision of “all about me” and that “nobody cares or would understand the pain I am in” or “I just can’t face life on life’s terms and I need to get out” how do we help you out of that darkness?
That is why, in sobriety, we are connected to the people we work with on a daily basis. And if professional help is necessary, we help you find those resources so that you can get better.
It is an affront to God to take ones life prematurely.
Only God should choose the time and place of our deaths.
Because when you die, there will be a ripple effect on the water that will flash all over the earth, to whatever extent as your star has risen. So many questions. Why didn’t we know, why didn’t you ask for help, we could have prevented this man from taking his life.
There is no shame, pain or problem, that brought out into the light of day that cannot be surmounted and conquered. There are ALWAYS options.
You don’t have to die to kill the pain.
Because you take a little piece of all of our hearts with you to the grave. And for that we will never be the same. The closer to the event horizon the worse.
We spoke of gratitude tonight.
- I am grateful for my sponsor, my friends, and my pigeons.
- I am grateful that I have all that I need
- I am grateful that I have the medication to take to keep living and be able to afford them
- I am grateful that I have not had a desire to drink
- I am grateful that there are people to call, and places to go so that I am not alone
- I never get to the point that suicide is ever an option.
You DO NOT have to die to kill the pain. There are always options.
The National Suicide Prevention Hotline is: 1-800-273-TALK.
If you think you have a problem with alcohol click: AA.org 24 hours a day.
Talk to someone, make that call. You are never alone.
What? Were you hoping for a picture of the moon? It is making its way around the building as we speak. As the moon progresses on its arc across the sky, starting lower in the sky, it tracks around us and sets early. Now we are at Full Moon, and it is high in the sky and tracks in a tight arc from East to West. It circles around us and comes around the building, so it seems, after 9 p.m. till moon set.
I set out early this evening, my coffee gal was called in for the night shift so I was alone. I arrived and cranked out set up, ( have toons will work quickly). One of my friends came to help, but by the time she got there, I was already finished. I spoke to Baby Mama in New Foundland for a bit, I try to call her as often as I can. We have had a spate of babies come to the rooms in the last two months. Everett and Charlie were born not long ago, added to Luisa Grace 3 months ago this week.
We sat a humble crowd. Not as large as next week, and I had hoped for high numbers returning just to hear the end of the story we were in last week. We backtracked a bit for continuity and finished the read.
Even in the worst case scenarios, our writers eventually find the solution.
The miracle is how they got the message and from Whom?
Our writer ended up drunk, in a laundromat, not knowing which washers were hers, and who’s clothes were who’s. So she decided to remain there until everyone was gone, and decided to take whatever clothes were left in the end. Meanwhile an energetic woman doing her laundry took notice of our woman, who was in bad shape, our woman comments about how energetic she is and how she could be so fastidious.
The woman handed our gal a note with one sentence … “If you want to quit drinking, call A.A. 24 hours a day.” Our gal pocketed the note in her jeans and continued with the insanity until one day she could not go on any longer, after weeks and weeks, the note remained in the pocket of her now discarded jeans on her bedroom floor.
She got the number and called. And from the point on her life was never the same.
In the end she was connected to sober native women and men who took her in and helped keep her sober.
There is a terrible curse on our Native populations here. Alcoholism and Drug Addiction.
Not many make it. And so many are stuck in the throws of addiction.
Native and Inuit people come from where they live, the reservation or from up North. The park, right downstairs from home here, is a local watering hole, respite space, adjacent to the children’s hospital. They come to the big city and they hit the grocery store or even worse, the liquor store right downstairs. And they are off and running.
I have watched for over a decade people loosing what little dignity they have in the bottom of a bottle. In most cases, folks who leave the reservation and come here, either (1) get stuck here drunk and or high or (2) never return to their people due to shame and addiction. Once you leave your home and go somewhere else, the chance of proper return is slim.
A very good friend of mine was hired some months ago to work on a reintegration team, working with the Inuit and Native folks, and also with our homeless population in the downtown core to find them, name them, get them the help they need and repatriate them back to where they need to go. And that is such a daunting task.
When they come to us, we do our best to help everyone regardless of where they come from or who they are. Recovery is an equal opportunity event. Everyone who comes in the door gets at least a running start.
We all spoke about the angels who helped get us sober, people who carried the message to us in order that we might get it too. Everyone has a story.
Like our gal in this story, who was a binge drinker at the end, the not knowing what happened the night before was exactly my story. That happened to me several weeks running, until I had had enough and took my last drink.
I prayed for an alcoholic to come to me.
And He did.
The young man who found me where I was, spoke softly each day… “I did not drink today.”
I eventually let my guard down and told him I needed help, and in turn he got me to my first meeting this time around.
I was blessed because I met all the right people, who tended to my needs and my spirit.
I remember, when I first moved here, my sponsor was a young guy I really liked, in more ways than one. Over that period of time we shared a great deal of time together and we were very close. One night, he brought me to the mountain. It was midnight, and he decided that we would climb the mountain, in the dark, instead of using the paths that there were.
That was a great night. I got to climb the mountain and sit atop in the middle of the night sober.
It isn’t the Rockies or Alberta or Calgary or B.C. But there is a mountain in the middle of the city. Looking at it from the farthest point out, the city seems to be terraced up the side of the mountain and around it. If you get up to lookout point, and look West, over the side when the sun sets, it is quite a view from the top across the West side of Montreal into Laval.
We are very grateful people. To have what we have, and also to have someplace to go where other people care about our lives like no other.
There is no place I would rather live.
More to come, stay tuned …
Last week ended with the final discussions in the second interview for a new job for hubby. And over the weekend, we hoped that everything would work out. To that end, I’ve been reticent in getting over “elated” or “counting my chickens before they are hatched.”
We got word early this week that hubby did get that job. It pays very well. And it looks as if we will finally dig ourselves out of the hole we have been in for so long. We have been playing with virtual money as of late. There are things that we would like to do, on top of paying bills and taking care of household responsibilities.
Monday night “Max, my computer” went to bed as usual. I shut him off as I usually do and went to bed. Tuesday morning when I got up, I turned Max on, and he had a Hot Flash and died.
Computers have a mind of their own, and tend to crap out at the worst time, Thankfully there was money in the bank for just an emergency. Hubby bundled Max off to Micro-Bytes and they figured out that Max had a Hot Flash, who knew computers had hot flashes …
For as long as I remember, Max ran hot and loud. You could hear him whine in the hallway outside the apartment. Max’s heat synch needed to be replaced, and a new fan for the motherboard was added. After a good cleaning out he fired right up. We got him back on Wednesday morning. He runs almost silently.
It is good we have a laptop and that I have a second user account there, which has all my bookmarks and sites in the memory, so transiting between two machines was painless.
The weather has been nice the past few days. We got spits of rain here and there and not for very long. And the weekend is looking up.
Tuesday night we sat a small group, and my sponsor was in the chair and he opted for the default topic for any meeting, meaning … If you can’t think of a topic, the auto default is always gratitude. UGH !!! Gratitude again ??? Some of my friends do gratitude lists and write every day, I just can’t be bothered with a gratitude list. Tells you where I am for the most part.
Tonight I was ready to go early and I could not sit still, so I took off early and did some shopping on the way out. I needed a new Opus Card for the metro since my old card is expired. I’ve been using hubby’s card for months now, and he needs his card for work now so I needed a new card. And they would not sell me “just the card,” I had to charge it with something additionally.
I shop for several groups, Sunday Niters, Thursday Men’s, and Tuesday Vendome. Coffee, stirrers, sugar, tea … All those kind of things. It costs some good money to feed and fill the coffee and tea hordes of people every week. And I’ve been borrowing from each other when one runs short. Now I have to refill the coffers.
We sat a good number tonight. New faces and New members which is great. The chair, for the second week in the chair read from Living Sober, “Avoiding Over elation.”
There are happy times and then there are unhappy times, and alcoholics usually never needed a reason to drink, we just drank … And the reading continues …
“The thought of a drink is not necessarily that same thing as the desire for one, and neither need plunge us into gloom or fear.”
It is rare to find someone who “got it” on the first pass. And there are many who have made several attempts at “getting it.” And finally, there are those of us, who after periods of sobriety, went back out and had to come back in.
We drank because the alcohol worked for us for a time, then it failed. We drank because it was what we did, not for any reason but to enhance a good mood or bring a bad one up to par. And we heard tonight that “it is the first one that changes everything.” It isn’t the second, or fifth, or the tenth, but the First One.
I along with many of my peers stated matter of factly, that we may have another drink in us, but not many of us may have another recovery in us. Like a cat’s nine lives, many of us have used up all of our chits …
When I got sober the very first time, twenty years ago this month, had I stuck and stayed I would have celebrated twenty years of sobriety this August. At the time I was working in a bar. And I have said before, that job was the best job I ever had in my life. When I put down the drink, I did not pick up again. I had far worse things pressing in on me and a drink would not have solved those problems. I don’t ever remember, maybe one night, that I desired a drink. My sponsor came in handy that night.
When I chose to make that move in sobriety, with no back up, I found myself with another person handing me a joint and a beer, which I smoked and then I drank. It wasn’t like I was desiring either of them, I never thought about it really. They appeared and I was defenseless.
I pick up and I was off and running until oblivion …
In the end, I drank because I thought I needed to. It was delusional drinking. What I desired was inclusion. And the alcohol was going to get me there, until it failed me ultimately. That last year, I had imposed stretches of sobriety, when I did not desire a drink, nor did I really think about it. And that’s why it took another year to get back here.
I put the drink down and I walked away from it. I never set foot in another club after that.
Wow … That was weird … The power went out and everything went dead. And I just figured out where this post went to try and recover it and not have to start all over again…
Thank you Word Press … You saved it again …
The second time I got sober, when I got here, I not only quit drinking, but I quit smoking as well. And both are formidable attempts. On St. Jean Baptiste Day, June 24th, 2002, I was at the Old Port and there were hordes of people double fisting beer and alcohol.
In that moment I really wanted a drink and I wanted a cigarette. I was craving both.
At the wrong place at the wrong time, I needed to get my ass out of there.
My sponsor had told me that if it came down to a choice between a smoke and a drink, that the better choice was a smoke. I did not drink.
I never Craved a drink again.
But “Thinking about a drink” is something that happens, to everyone. Maybe not so often, but it does happen. I know what to do when that happens. I stay out of sticky places.
They say that when you get sober, everything changes. Things start to get good. And that is the time we need to be wary. Left to our own devices, a drink in a good moment might sound good but in the end, won’t taste every well, if you blow sober time on a fancied drink.
I stay connected. I do service. And I take it one day at a time.
Live – Easy – But – Think – First …
Desire is not the same thing as thought …
More to come, stay tuned …
The weather held for the weekend’s festivities. The summer concert series is in full swing. There was and will be lots of music to come over the next couple of weeks. Osheaga was this weekend, and Coming up will be Thirty Seconds to Mars (Jared Leto and friends) with guests Linkin Park. That was a ticket i would want to buy, but coming in close to $100.00 is a little steep. I, however have all the latest music on my phone already. I’m not sure I want to find myself in a mosh pit with screaming teen-agers.
I guess I fared well with all that’s going on in my head and heart. You can’t make someone love you and you sure as shit cannot change someone who is stuck in hate and ignorance. However broken hearted I am about the situation, I must remember that I am powerless over people, places and things. I did however send another message through last night when I got home from dinner, the channel is still open and I haven’t been blocked “Yet.”
We had dinner with my sister in law while she waited on her kids to attend the concert last night they got home close to midnight, and mom left for Ottawa this afternoon and another set of parents are here to chaperone them another night and to La Rhonde tomorrow then they will all return to Ottawa Monday night.
It was another festive Sunday afternoon. The weather has been glorious and we will take it while it lasts. I cranked out set up and sat outside on the stoop to await my peeps. And we sat a full room. I had imagined that we would get through the entire story (read wise) and have a full discussion, But we read the entire circle (Listening to the Wind) and I stopped the read a few pages short, it was quite a long story with lots of insanity, and that’s where I left it tonight, next week we will get the resolution and the solution of the story.
Folks were like “damned … I really wanted to get to the end …”
Keep em coming back for more is my take on it.
Which leaves us only a few pages of reading next week, because we usually only stick to one story at a time, since we are in the “total insanity” chapter of the stories in the back of the book.
In the fourth edition, several stories were removed from older editions, several new stories were inserted, and a few were renamed from older editions, and there are several topical sections that set apart sets of stories as they were published.
Insanity was the one thing I took away from this read.
When I left home, all that I knew how to do was drink. Who knew from responsibility. We were young and pretty back then. And I lived in an apartment complex heavily populated with Disney employees. You either were one, or you knew someone who was.
It seemed that what ruled the day was the amount of alcohol one could consume on any given night, and between the gay bars, Southern Nights and the Parliament House, and the Disney bars located at Downtown Disney, we had all of our bases covered. You could drink very cheaply no matter what night it was. And who you were friends with usually dictated the alcohol and drug consumption. I was not interested in drugs early on, alcohol was much cheaper and it was legal.
From beginning to end, several times, I was the alcoholic running riot through people’s lives. And reading from the back of the book, in several stories, you could insert me into a story because at some point I was the writer.
For whatever reason, I graduated from staying in one place and attempting to live responsibly, which at one point I could not, and many room mates later, and several failed relationships, most ending in horrible ways, I began the geographical moves. I followed the boys from town to town.
I moved from Miami to Orlando to be gay and come our at the Parliament House. I failed at relationships so I moved on to Daytona Beach and Up and down the coast for a period of time.
I was always on the loosing end, meaning that I had lost everything several times. I had a couple of neat room mates. But that only lasted so long. There had to be alcohol and there also had to be good sex. Because if you were young and pretty, the world was your oyster.
In my twenties I remained slender and cute for a while. I eventually ended back in Miami for the grand crash and burn. And from that jackpot I rented from a friend, and ruined that relationship over alcohol.
When I lived in Orlando I dated a young man who I was very much in love with, but he was a seasonal Disney employee. And while the getting was good, we dated. And every day after work, we would talk and it would either be “Bottle or Blender?”
You were either going to bring a bottle or you would bring the blender.
We would get tanked, watch Mary Poppins drunk and then the night would take off. That was during the best of times. Eventually I transited into the worst of times. i really did not know why i was having such problems. Because nobody ever mentioned alcoholism to any of us, not that any of us would have responded well to an inquiry like that.
Nobody said STOP.
Nobody ever intimated that any of us had a problem with our drinking.
Imagine what life would have looked like had I gotten sober in my twenties.
The rest they say is history. I am learning so much this time around. Every day it is something new. I read, I talk to friends, I study the book, and I look at the past with new eyes. I almost feel sorry for that young man that I was. I had some friends, but no one substantial to stop me when I should have been stopped. I “wung it” for a long time.
Eventually someone did step in and tell me to Stop.
I had no choice then. Death was the only alternative. And I did not want to die.
I am committed to my sober journey and the sober journey’s of the men i work with. We are all planting seeds in our own ways. We all have something to give, depending on what we have in our virtual banks of sobriety. But the book does say that …”Obviously you cannot give something that you don’t have …”
Which is why we keep coming back for more.
I am ok tonight. Tomorrow we move on.
More to come, stay tuned …