so why else would we be here, anyway?
From Robert Crisp at recovery 102 comes a truly splendid way to close out the first month 2018.
I have an idea where my inability to feel happiness (or joy or whatever positive emotion you can think of) comes from. It’s wrapped up in my childhood and my home. I accept that. Certain things happened that changed my emotional trajectory, and I have my own brain chemistry to thank for clinical depression and other issues. I’m learning, very slowly, to recognize joy and not run from it. I laugh more easily. I’m not as jittery around overwhelmingly positive, energetic people.
“I’m not as jittery around overwhelmingly positive, energetic people.” That one reached out from my screen and smacked me right across the face. Really?? Man, I would love to be where Robert Crisp is right now. I say that because I understand the italicized emphasis in “…not as jittery…” draws attention to the fact this is a work in progress. For that, I think it’s important to be in the presence of overwhelmingly positive, energetic people whenever I can handle it. They are certainly part of my healing.
That being said, such people still tend to drive me straight up the freaking wall unless I have some sort of advance warning [“Danger, Will Robinson! Fiercely compelling, dynamic young lady at the snack bar!”] so I can brace myself. I can assure you at the end of the day Mr. Crisp is quite correct. The key, of course, is to simply keep working the program. It’s pretty much all we have at this point anyway, isn’t it?
this morning I was reviewing my diary for the month of January. I start each nightly entry with a couple of words summarising the day. these range from: very tough day / tough day / OK day / good day / happy day / very happy day and overall, January has been a bit of […]
YariGarciaYA at Living Free of Alcohol brings up a pretty tough question many of us have likely asked ourselves in the mirror at some point:
Is drunk you the REAL you?
I’ve said and done some pretty horrible stuff while drunk.
I think we all have at some point.
After a particularly bad episode, the people around us may wonder:
Is what she/he said and did the REAL them? Is this how they truly feel?
Don’t give up. Strong reading for a great source of encouragement.
From feelingmywaybackintolife comes this refreshingly candid post on the root of her own addiction, twice removed from alcohol:
I do not want to accept I hate myself. I prefer to deny it so I can experience it less. But the shadow walking next to me has become too strong. Even now my heart is pounding like crazy and tears are streaming. Thinking of you reading this. Feeling like you would all be saying: “I knew she was not worth it. Being all stuck up and know it all, ha! Now, look at how miserable she really is.”
. . .
A woman who loves herself would possibly show compassion. I also think she would help the little kid to learn boundaries and self-preservation. My mother did not allow me boundaries when it came to self-preservation. Literally not. That time where she said she would protect me from the friends of my brother and then forced me to undress in front of them. And later, when I asked her for help when they attacked me again, with the special words we had worked out between the two of us, she brushed me off, telling me not to bother her. How do I live with that? I feel very destructive currently. No wonder I think people ridicule me when I ask for help. That has been the real experience. And it has all settled as patterns in my behaviour. And, like my mom, I learned to take the only way left out: becoming ill, becoming soft, weak, depressed, overworked and alcoholic. Patterns.
At once agonizing and revealing, this read is a thoughtful study of the honest pain in the healing journey. Read the whole thing. Please.
A wonderful post from FitFatFood, who — oh so gently — turned four years sober this week:
That’s how far things have come. Gone are the days of the minute by minute crawl towards bedtime, when I wanted to feel the sweet relief of the pillow, a sense of release and pride that I’d dragged myself through another day. Now sobriety is a gift I treasure, a part of life that feels as natural and precious as breathing, requiring a similarly unconscious effort.
By all means, read the brief but splendid and encouraging note.
Carefully reading the first five proposals we ask if we have omitted anything, for we are building an arch through which we shall walk a free man at last. . . .Are we now ready to let God remove from us all the things which we have admitted are objectionable?