A good way to look at what we do to our loved ones as alcoholics is the tornado. It comes crashing through people's lives, without consciousness of the destruction and heartbreak it causes in people's lives. Shattered hopes and dreams fall all around, children are lost, and families torn asunder. Yet the tornado goes wildly on it's way, never seeing or knowing the devastation left in it's wake.
I was that tornado for too many years. I always thought that I was the injured party, the damaged one. And while to some extent, that may have been true, it was also true that I was inflicting pain and suffering on the people I held most dear to me. All I wanted was their love and understanding, but all I gave was turmoil and pain. I thought I was the only one hurt by my actions, and selfishly looked to the people I harmed for rescue.
A tornado has a beginning, a middle, and an end, just like our lives. It can either die out all together, or become a peaceful prairie breeze, spreading hope for the future with seed carried in it's gentle breath.
Today I work to be that seed. Part of my recovery is to share what I have been so freely given: peace for today, hope for the future, and relief from the past.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Fear and Faith
If faith is the assurance of things hoped for, and the conviction of things not seen, what is fear? I read somewhere that fear is the mind killer, and I would even take it one step further and say that fear is a life taker. To live in fear, is to ignore God's blessings, big and small.
To me, when I am afraid, it means I am not living in my faith. Since I am aware that fear is a natural human response, like joy and sadness, I have to give it some room in my life. But for alcoholics, living in fear for too long is a dangerous and unhealthy place. When I am in fear, it colors my perceptions and causes me to loose sight of what is real.
I drank because of fear; thousands of nameless fears, and hundreds of named ones. Fear of people was a huge one for me. Most of us suffer from such low self-esteem before we get sober, that we are sure that everyone is judging us and would never like us. King Alcohol gave us a reprieve from fear. Only, sadly, it became so that every morning after became a pounding song of self-loathing and regret, colored with shame.
Fear. It is a deadly plague that spreads into my soul, and makes my sobriety look a lot less appealing. It taints my judgment and perceptions, making beauty and peace difficult to see.
Peace only comes to me when I allow God to carry my fear for me. He does, happily, and I feel His presence as if he patted me on the back like a small child, and sent me off to enjoy the wonder and beauty of the world around me.
Faith. I choose faith today, in order to stay with God, where I know I can get through anything that life can throw at me, with some peace, serenity, dignity, and sobriety.
To me, when I am afraid, it means I am not living in my faith. Since I am aware that fear is a natural human response, like joy and sadness, I have to give it some room in my life. But for alcoholics, living in fear for too long is a dangerous and unhealthy place. When I am in fear, it colors my perceptions and causes me to loose sight of what is real.
I drank because of fear; thousands of nameless fears, and hundreds of named ones. Fear of people was a huge one for me. Most of us suffer from such low self-esteem before we get sober, that we are sure that everyone is judging us and would never like us. King Alcohol gave us a reprieve from fear. Only, sadly, it became so that every morning after became a pounding song of self-loathing and regret, colored with shame.
Fear. It is a deadly plague that spreads into my soul, and makes my sobriety look a lot less appealing. It taints my judgment and perceptions, making beauty and peace difficult to see.
Peace only comes to me when I allow God to carry my fear for me. He does, happily, and I feel His presence as if he patted me on the back like a small child, and sent me off to enjoy the wonder and beauty of the world around me.
Faith. I choose faith today, in order to stay with God, where I know I can get through anything that life can throw at me, with some peace, serenity, dignity, and sobriety.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Grief in Sobriety
I met a gal in a meeting the other day who was sober the same length of time as me. She was one of those people that you instantly like, and would wish for a friend; funny, smart, and a bit self-depreciating. Behind all of that she carried with her an aura of warmth and calm, and an underlying empathy.
This morning when I woke up, I received an e-mail that her brother had died suddenly and unexpectedly yesterday. Throughout my chores this morning, thoughts of grief and how we deal with it in our sobriety have been playing in and out of my mind. I don't really know this gal, or how much loss she has suffered in sobriety, but I do know, for me at least, loss has always shaken my beliefs, and made me reevaluate my faith and what I thought was my understanding of life.
What I have learned, walking through the periods of loss and grief in my sobriety, is that no matter how much I wanted to make the pain go away with a drink or a drug, there is nothing that will make it stay away permanently. That if I drank to drown out my sorrow (and believe me, I thought about it!), in the morning, the person I lost would still be gone, and I would be drunk. I would have given up everything that mattered to me in order to try and momentarily subdue the pain that would inevitably return in spite of my effort.
I have also learned, walking through such deep loss in sobriety, that some pain cannot be taken away, or eased in any way. That each day can be a struggle, as you walk through the various stages of grief. The thing is, you DO walk through them, if only you manage to stay sober. I did. And I learned that no amount of writing, crying, or even sharing with others will fix it. Some wounds you just live with, and only time can scab them over. But they are always there and cannot be fixed by a fourth step or any step.
For me, I just had to feel my pain, day in and day out, not drink, ask God to hold onto me, and get through. And in some ways, I am a different person because of my experience. Not in a bad way. Just in a real way. A way that drinking or drugging would never allow. I never was able to stay stuck in my grief, because my sobriety, and being on auto-pilot with the tools of AA helped me get through to the day when I could think of my lost loved one without a tear, and sometimes even with a smile of fond remembrance.
It does seem impossible that we can walk through such things without resorting to our old ways, but thousands and thousands of us do. With God's love, fellowship in the program, and the solid foundation of our sobriety.
This morning when I woke up, I received an e-mail that her brother had died suddenly and unexpectedly yesterday. Throughout my chores this morning, thoughts of grief and how we deal with it in our sobriety have been playing in and out of my mind. I don't really know this gal, or how much loss she has suffered in sobriety, but I do know, for me at least, loss has always shaken my beliefs, and made me reevaluate my faith and what I thought was my understanding of life.
What I have learned, walking through the periods of loss and grief in my sobriety, is that no matter how much I wanted to make the pain go away with a drink or a drug, there is nothing that will make it stay away permanently. That if I drank to drown out my sorrow (and believe me, I thought about it!), in the morning, the person I lost would still be gone, and I would be drunk. I would have given up everything that mattered to me in order to try and momentarily subdue the pain that would inevitably return in spite of my effort.
I have also learned, walking through such deep loss in sobriety, that some pain cannot be taken away, or eased in any way. That each day can be a struggle, as you walk through the various stages of grief. The thing is, you DO walk through them, if only you manage to stay sober. I did. And I learned that no amount of writing, crying, or even sharing with others will fix it. Some wounds you just live with, and only time can scab them over. But they are always there and cannot be fixed by a fourth step or any step.
For me, I just had to feel my pain, day in and day out, not drink, ask God to hold onto me, and get through. And in some ways, I am a different person because of my experience. Not in a bad way. Just in a real way. A way that drinking or drugging would never allow. I never was able to stay stuck in my grief, because my sobriety, and being on auto-pilot with the tools of AA helped me get through to the day when I could think of my lost loved one without a tear, and sometimes even with a smile of fond remembrance.
It does seem impossible that we can walk through such things without resorting to our old ways, but thousands and thousands of us do. With God's love, fellowship in the program, and the solid foundation of our sobriety.
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