Ground Zero (or, You Can't Get There From Here)

I might have written about this before, but it is so important to my recovery that it bears mentioning again. And again. And again.

For the vast majority of my life, I aspired to be what I thought other people expected me to be. I tried to live up to your expectations, even if you never told me expressly what your expectations were. But inside, and not very deep down, I knew that I could not cut it. I did not have what it takes to live life - yours, mine, or anybody else's. So, I learned a lot of workarounds - I maneuvered and manipulated so that it would appear that I was making it - that I was a competent human being that knew what he was doing and could handle most anything. I thought that's what you wanted me to be - I really did.

All this acting did not make me a successful human being. All it really did was to create a deep chasm within me - a huge separation between me and everyone else...between me and life...between me and the real me.

About 3 years ago I began the process of learning (or possibly remembering) how to live from my true self. It's not an overnight process, and it's not easy - for me it requires a constant examination of my thinking, my motives, and my actions, and a re-training of my brain.

Nearly a year ago, I surrendered any idea that I knew what I was doing, or that I knew what was best for me. I don't recall a bright light going off in my head, or Lake Michigan parting, or any burning bushes. Something within me simply stopped playing the game.

So, I started recovery exactly where I was at - sick from active alcoholism and untreated depression, homeless, jobless, penniless, carless, and with not very much of an idea of what to do about it all. And I was tired - so very, very tired.

There is a paradox here that bears mentioning - being 'around' recovery for many years, I knew what recovery looked like, and I knew what the solution was - but I didn't know it for myself. For example, if someone comes to me desiring recovery, I can point them in the right direction and get them started; however, I cannot orchestrate or direct my own recovery. I suppose it's because I'm the broken one, and I can't fix what's broken (me) with what broke me in the first place (me). I must ask for and accept guidance from those around me.

About a year ago, I began earnestly following the suggestions of those who were suggesting things to me. I stopped using alcohol. I began going to recovery meetings again. I started living at the Salvation Army. I engaged in Intensive Outpatient Treatment for alcoholism. I acquired a doctor, who made some suggestions. I began going to NAMI support groups to begin recovery from depression. After two months of sobriety, when I found myself still wishing I were dead and not having much hope, I agreed to start taking medication for depression. I got a crappy part-time job at the local retailer of donated goods. I accepted the invitation to spend a month (which turned into 6 weeks) at the halfway house from which I had graduated nearly two years before. I finished my IOP treatment and I moved into a rooming house (where I still reside and share the bathroom with others). I followed the suggestion of a friend and applied for a full-time job where he works, and I still work there today. I became self-supporting, meaning I pay my own rent, I buy my own food and other necessities, I pay off some of my debt each paycheck, and I keep current with my expenses (I don't borrow money or neglect bills anymore). I still walk, ride my bike, or ride the bus - right now, I can't afford a car. I've become more deeply involved in NAMI. I'm in therapy and I'm avoiding romantic relationships.

That's some of the stuff I'm doing, and what makes it important for me is that I'm not living outside of my current capabilities. I'm taking a realistic look at what I can do today and learning and growing from there, instead of trying to live from a place of what I (or others) think I should be doing. I'm learning to be me, where I'm at today and what I'm about today, and I'm learning to be OK with it.

The real kicker is this - I spent all those years - 50+ - working at projecting a false image of myself in the hope of gaining approval and happiness, and I found neither. As I mentioned before, now I endeavor to find out who I am and live from that, no matter what I think others think of that (I've found out that most people don't give a shit anyway). The result is that I like myself better and I experience more happiness and peace of mind being me than I've ever experienced before, and sometimes it's even fun exploring who I am. And it's really only just begun. I might not be too much to write home about, but I'm real, and today I can live with that (and myself).

Namasté

Ken

5 Year Plan?

I took a survey at work yesterday. Management is trying to find out what our 'carrots' are - what motivates us. One of the questions was, 'What would you like to be doing in 5 years?'

I've always hated the 5-year question. The last time I encountered it was several years ago when I was filling out a job application for [national pet supply chain]. I was applying for a stocking position. My reply was, 'Really? I'm not sure, but it's probably not schlepping dog food for [national pet supply chain].' And, of course, that's not what I'm doing today.

On the survey for work, I thought about it and answered, 'Breathing.' I'm way past trying to figure out what the best answer is and plugging it in. Being alive and breathing seems to be a pretty good place for me to be in 5 years, considering my last 5 (and 10, 15, 20, 30, and 40).  I suppose that points to my lack of ambition, and sometimes I feel bad that I don't have a 5 year plan. But I realize I only feel bad about that because it makes me look like I don't have any ambition, when in truth, I do.

I'm in recovery. I am recovering from mental illness and from alcoholism. That's why even being alive in 5 years is a pretty big aspiration for me. I'm not really sure that that's where I'll be. But my ambition today is to stay sober today and to stay as symptom free today as I possibly can. My ambition today is to make today the best possible day that I can. I do that today by waking up, getting up, suiting up, and showing up. And I know today that the attitude with which I show up is more important that where I show up or what I do when I do show up. I know that if I get up, suit up, and show up, I'm going to run into people today, and, to me, how I interact with the people I run into is much more important than anything else that can happen today.

I used to live each day thinking - believing - that what I did didn't matter. I used to live thinking - believing - that I had no impact, positive or negative, on the lives of others. I just didn't matter that much. So I took actions that made me feel ok in the short term, without concern for how my actions affected those around me. It just didn't matter.

Today I know I was wrong. I'm not any more important than I ever was, but I do know I'm more important than I think I am. I am connected; I am a part of, not apart from. How I treat myself and how I treat others and what I bring to life today is of utmost importance. Each day I encounter opportunities to share my gifts, and, most importantly, my divinity, with those around me, and I do that by practicing principles such as love, honesty, open-mindedness, willingness, acceptance, humility, compassion, tolerance, faith, hope, gratitude, and courage (there's more, but I can't think of them all now). I also work at discovering what my true gifts are, and I work at sharing them with those around me. I don't do any of this perfectly, and I don't do any of it alone. The reward for all of this practice is that the more I give away, the more I have to give. The more I practice embracing life, the more I enjoy life, and the less afraid I am.

Last year at this time, I was headed for (if I wasn't already there) my last relapse. My aspirations were gone, along with my hope and my desire to live. Last year I was done.

On May 21st of 2015, I began recovery again, and I began using every resource I had, and I began to be open-minded and accepting. I like where I'm at today, spiritually, mentally, emotionally, physically. There's lots of room for improvement in every area, but I like where I'm at. And what I'm often reminded of is that I did not plan to be where I'm at today last year. I just sort of arrived, a day at a time, a step at a time.

I would like to be breathing in 5 years. I would also like to be a lot less afraid to share my gifts with those around me. I'd like to have more courage, and be of more useful service to others than I am today. I'd really like to have my own bathroom. That's my only material goal - to live in a bit of a better place than I do now. Other than that, in 5 years I want to look back and be amazed. I want to look at the person I was 5 years ago and see only a vague resemblance to the person I am. I want to know deeper in my heart that I do belong, that I am an important part of life. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and truly love and appreciate the man looking back at me.

I do know that all of that is possible, if I make today the best possible day I know how to.

Namaste,

Ken