Living in a community (halfway house) with 10 or 11 other men in early recovery is an excellent opportunity - it's an opportunity to learn how to get along with other men without the use of mind-altering chemicals, how to develop healthy friendships, and how to express oneself in a healthy way. It's also an opportunity to experiment with different recovery strategies and find out what works and what doesn't work.
Although relapse isn't mandatory, it often takes more than one treatment for a person living with addiction and/or a mental health condition to attain and maintain a recovery that lasts. My observation and my experience is that a real surrender and a real desire to change from the inside out is necessary to begin building a recovery that works and a recovery that lasts.
As you might have guessed from previous posts, I know a bit about what a good recovery looks like. Knowing this has not been sufficient to keep me in recovery. Even working in the field of recovery has not kept me in recovery. So the question for me is, "What's it going to take?"
Good question. I'm not going to speak to anyone else's experience, as I've yet to meet anybody whose specific program of recovery works for me in the long run. I've tried to mimic and be like others, and it just doesn't work. I can say that the basics that work for most people work for me - honesty, openmindedness, willingness, spirituality, connection, and being of service. But it seems I've had to experience what doesn't work before I get to experience what does.
Some years ago I theorized that if a person had a healthy self-esteem and a good outlook on life, then that person probably wouldn't want to poison themselves with alcohol or other substances, or to put his/her life in danger. Now, that's not to say that a person with those attributes would not acquire the disease of addiction or a mental health condition; there are plenty of cases of sound-minded people who have experienced these things. What I am saying is that a person with those attributes who found themselves in the throes of addiction or mental illness could, with proper support and education, find their way to a healthy recovery.
Quite recently I've come to discover that there are things going on in my subconscious mind that inform how I feel sometimes and, ultimately, how I behave. We all have that; it's part of being human. However, I seem to have issues that I am unable to identify at this time, and these issues affect the way I feel about myself. Additionally, these issues cause me to sabotage myself and make me a danger to myself. I am unable as of this writing to deal with them on a conscious level, so I will be seeking more professional help in delving deeper so that I can bring this stuff up and get it taken care of.
Because of large blank spots in my memory, I've always known that I must have some stuff to work on. I've tried to work on it myself through prayer and meditation, and reading different self-help type materials. I know it's there, yet I haven't wanted to ask anyone to help me dig it up. These issues, whatever they are, are keeping me from being the person I know I can be.
Surrender in the sense of mental health conditions and addiction means that I acknowledge and accept that I have done everything that I can do on my own to control or get rid of the problem, and I am ready to accept, without reservation, someone else's ideas and suggestions.
This is where I'm at - I surrender. I'm tired of the struggle, and I admit defeat.
Those in recovery from addiction know that this is the point at which a person can begin recovery. I know I must give everything over, even that of which I am unaware, to a Power greater than myself in order to begin full recovery. Fortunately, I know my Higher Power works through capable and talented caregivers, as well as experienced peers in recovery, and I am now ready to take my life to the next level with the help of those around me.
As mentioned in a previous post, my recovery is a journey of self discovery, and I am committed to sharing what I discover along the way. I will continue to utilize this blog to share what I learn about myself in my recovery.
Namasté,
Ken
Showing posts with label Surrender. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Surrender. Show all posts
Saturday, July 6, 2019
Saturday, May 19, 2018
The Power of Connection
Today I went to work, and I was blessed to hear an awesome recovery speaker. That's the way things happen for me of late - I suit up and show up and good things happen for me. Anyway, the man sharing his story really touched my heart in so many ways. You know, when we say 'touched my heart,' it's not just a figurative saying, it's literal. I could feel the effects of his sharing in my body, mainly in my chest. I get lots of stuff that goes in and out of my head all day long, but the things that really affect me, that are transformative, I feel. But as I'm listening to this guy, I realize that I'm on the clock - I'm getting paid to sit here and be uplifted. It doesn't get any better than this, and I haven't done anything other than suit up and show up.
Story telling is as old as humanity. People got together at the end of the day and shared their experiences with one another. That's how humans bond and feel connected - we have different experiences, yet we feel the same things - love, joy, fear, doubt, terror, humor, happiness, mystery, etc.
Early on, I acquired the belief that it was better to live life alone - to not share my experiences or feelings with others. That sounds very lonely, but it's also very safe. Safety trumps connection. For me, however, being a hermit did not get my other needs met, so I learned to create the appearance of connecting with others. Basically, I learned how to act. I've spent much of my life acting as if I liked and trusted people and knew how to get along, when, in reality, I didn't. I trusted no one.
I do regret a little bit that I didn't have bigger cojones - all the times I had opportunities to look someone, someone who was trying to help me, in the eye and be honest and say to them, "You know what? I don't trust you. You know why? Because you're a human being, and human beings suck. If I put any trust whatsoever in you, you will hurt me, and that's not going to happen." I was way, way, way too nice and polite for my own damn good. In my own defense, I thought I was protecting myself, because to me, the threat was real. I was living the way I believed I had to live to survive.
So I managed to go through life acting as if I had friendships and relationships without ever really letting my guard down and letting people in. And every couple of years I would have a meltdown and become despondent and suicidal, surprising the people around me because I was such a good actor.
Five years ago, I understood that I would never be able to stay sober until I became authentic - until I let my guard down, allowed others to know the real me, and be vulnerable. That's a pretty tall undertaking for someone who didn't even know himself, and was pretty sure that himself wasn't someone anyone would want to be around anyway. I never liked me, why would anybody else? So I worked on knocking down the walls. I had one more relapse before I got to the point where I realized the job was too big for me alone.
I want to take a paragraph to interject about God and spirituality. Most of my life I've sought God, or Spirit, or Source, and, as I've mentioned in previous posts, I've got a pretty good radar for the Truth. Somewhere inside I knew a relationship with God would 'fix' me. I thought if I could seal that relationship with God, I wouldn't have to worry about my relationship with others. My logic was a little fuzzy, now that I look at it, but I wanted the security and safety of having God in my life without the ickiness of having to get involved with the rest of His children. Some people may be able to do this; however, it doesn't seem to be my path.
So this last relapse, a little over 3 years ago, did it for me. Alcohol and depression had stripped me bare. It took me back to being the helpless, vulnerable 5 year old boy who was very afraid of living and had no idea what to do about it. I was exactly where I needed to be, and I surrendered - I stopped trying to cover up. I stopped trying to be the person who knew what he was doing. I just stopped.
Perhaps the greatest blessing of my life is that I've always had great people in my life. Wherever I've been, from church to prison, from Ivory Towers to Skid Row, I've met the most giving, wise, compassionate, loving people a person could ever desire to meet. I've recognized this fact for a long time, but I failed to accept the gifts the Universe kept shoving in front of me - until 3 years ago. I began to say 'yes' to the kindness and compassion of those around me. I began to say 'yes' to the gifts that were laid at my feet - tentatively at first, sort of like an abused, starving dog will tentatively accept food from a kind stranger. After a bit of accepting the kindness and help from the good people in my life, I began to feel more secure. I began to feel safe. And I began to get better. I began to believe that I am a valuable person who is deserving of life and who has something to offer to others. And I discovered that that person was there all along, buried under a mountain of hurt and shit and shame. And I let others help me dig him out and clean him up.
I've still got lots of healing to experience - I expect it to take the rest of my life. But along the way, I can help others find their way to healing. And I know that I can do that by fostering a connection with others. That's still very challenging for me. I don't get out of bed in the morning and say, "Oh wonderful! Another day of connection with the sick and injured of the world!" But I do know what is mine to do, and I willingly do it because I know I am supported in this endeavor by the Universe. I feel enough safety and security today to go out and share what I've been given.
Connection to others is what I rely upon to stay sober and sane today. Simply put, I couldn't connect with others because I was afraid and I could not trust.
Connection is dropping the shields and letting another human being that I know what it's like to feel lost and alone, and to let that other person know that they're not as alone as they think they are, and that they are safe. It's about showing someone that it's ok and it's safe to be vulnerable, and that true Love doesn't hurt, it heals. And when I drop my shields and give my Love away, I get more Love back and I heal a little more. It's really a pretty good deal.
Namasté
Ken
Story telling is as old as humanity. People got together at the end of the day and shared their experiences with one another. That's how humans bond and feel connected - we have different experiences, yet we feel the same things - love, joy, fear, doubt, terror, humor, happiness, mystery, etc.
Early on, I acquired the belief that it was better to live life alone - to not share my experiences or feelings with others. That sounds very lonely, but it's also very safe. Safety trumps connection. For me, however, being a hermit did not get my other needs met, so I learned to create the appearance of connecting with others. Basically, I learned how to act. I've spent much of my life acting as if I liked and trusted people and knew how to get along, when, in reality, I didn't. I trusted no one.
I do regret a little bit that I didn't have bigger cojones - all the times I had opportunities to look someone, someone who was trying to help me, in the eye and be honest and say to them, "You know what? I don't trust you. You know why? Because you're a human being, and human beings suck. If I put any trust whatsoever in you, you will hurt me, and that's not going to happen." I was way, way, way too nice and polite for my own damn good. In my own defense, I thought I was protecting myself, because to me, the threat was real. I was living the way I believed I had to live to survive.
So I managed to go through life acting as if I had friendships and relationships without ever really letting my guard down and letting people in. And every couple of years I would have a meltdown and become despondent and suicidal, surprising the people around me because I was such a good actor.
Five years ago, I understood that I would never be able to stay sober until I became authentic - until I let my guard down, allowed others to know the real me, and be vulnerable. That's a pretty tall undertaking for someone who didn't even know himself, and was pretty sure that himself wasn't someone anyone would want to be around anyway. I never liked me, why would anybody else? So I worked on knocking down the walls. I had one more relapse before I got to the point where I realized the job was too big for me alone.
I want to take a paragraph to interject about God and spirituality. Most of my life I've sought God, or Spirit, or Source, and, as I've mentioned in previous posts, I've got a pretty good radar for the Truth. Somewhere inside I knew a relationship with God would 'fix' me. I thought if I could seal that relationship with God, I wouldn't have to worry about my relationship with others. My logic was a little fuzzy, now that I look at it, but I wanted the security and safety of having God in my life without the ickiness of having to get involved with the rest of His children. Some people may be able to do this; however, it doesn't seem to be my path.
So this last relapse, a little over 3 years ago, did it for me. Alcohol and depression had stripped me bare. It took me back to being the helpless, vulnerable 5 year old boy who was very afraid of living and had no idea what to do about it. I was exactly where I needed to be, and I surrendered - I stopped trying to cover up. I stopped trying to be the person who knew what he was doing. I just stopped.
Perhaps the greatest blessing of my life is that I've always had great people in my life. Wherever I've been, from church to prison, from Ivory Towers to Skid Row, I've met the most giving, wise, compassionate, loving people a person could ever desire to meet. I've recognized this fact for a long time, but I failed to accept the gifts the Universe kept shoving in front of me - until 3 years ago. I began to say 'yes' to the kindness and compassion of those around me. I began to say 'yes' to the gifts that were laid at my feet - tentatively at first, sort of like an abused, starving dog will tentatively accept food from a kind stranger. After a bit of accepting the kindness and help from the good people in my life, I began to feel more secure. I began to feel safe. And I began to get better. I began to believe that I am a valuable person who is deserving of life and who has something to offer to others. And I discovered that that person was there all along, buried under a mountain of hurt and shit and shame. And I let others help me dig him out and clean him up.
I've still got lots of healing to experience - I expect it to take the rest of my life. But along the way, I can help others find their way to healing. And I know that I can do that by fostering a connection with others. That's still very challenging for me. I don't get out of bed in the morning and say, "Oh wonderful! Another day of connection with the sick and injured of the world!" But I do know what is mine to do, and I willingly do it because I know I am supported in this endeavor by the Universe. I feel enough safety and security today to go out and share what I've been given.
Connection to others is what I rely upon to stay sober and sane today. Simply put, I couldn't connect with others because I was afraid and I could not trust.
Connection is dropping the shields and letting another human being that I know what it's like to feel lost and alone, and to let that other person know that they're not as alone as they think they are, and that they are safe. It's about showing someone that it's ok and it's safe to be vulnerable, and that true Love doesn't hurt, it heals. And when I drop my shields and give my Love away, I get more Love back and I heal a little more. It's really a pretty good deal.
Namasté
Ken
Saturday, March 4, 2017
Out on a Limb
I may have written about this before. I've been here before, sort of, so it's not necessarily new, but it still is amazing to me.
Twenty-one months or so ago, I gave up. I quit. I surrendered. My diseases had won - I was unable to function at any useful level. I was sick in body, mind, and spirit, and I was an abject failure - bankrupt in every sense of the word. So I agreed to do what was suggested to me. Why not? I had absolutely nothing left to lose.
In my previous attempts at recovery, and there have been many, I did what was suggested, if I felt it was a good idea, if it was in line with my thinking, and if it was convenient and did not impinge too much on my sense of self. Over the years, because of the negative consequences of my disorders, I became more and more willing to do more and more to recover. What I never, ever gave up before was my control over my life. Yes, I had consultants, and I even had a higher power that I consulted from time to time, but, in the end, I made choices based on what I felt was best for me, and, for me back then, the best I could do was protect myself. Above all else, my view of who I was and what I was about, no matter how flawed I was, must be protected, and any idea that threatened that protection was discarded.
When I began what I now call Total Recovery, I did not care anymore. I didn't care about living. I felt that I would never be able to live on my own, and I felt I would never be able to hold a job or do anything productive. I was so empty that I couldn't even commit a crime that would have landed me in prison, which would have been a good place for someone like me. I had nothing left inside. And, in order for me to recover, that's exactly where I needed to be.
"Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose." (Janis Joplin). I adopted an attitude of non-resistance, which I wrote about in an earlier post. I was able to release judgment about my life and what was happening to me. I was homeless, jobless, in IOP (intensive outpatient treatment), and I neither liked nor disliked any of it. It just was. From that non-resistance grew acceptance, and I felt a glimmer of hope - life was happening, and I was still ok. Lots of other things began to happen, which I won't detail right now. The point is that my life was moving in a direction, and I wasn't resisting it at all.
Soon I found myself experiencing things that I had not experienced before in my life. Four months into my recovery, I became self-supporting and began to learn how to be responsible for my life. This was something that was new to me, and potentially scary. But I continued to allow myself to be led.
And that's what I mean by being out on a limb. I'm experiencing things in my life that I've never experienced before, at least not in the way that I'm experiencing them. I'm embracing life, instead of trying to escape life. I feel more whole and authentic than I've ever felt before, but I keep expanding and moving forward. I'm finding out who I am.
And the point, for me, of being out on a limb is two-fold: I must rely upon my Higher Power, because I'm in uncharted territory; additionally, the past 21 months of Total Recovery give me faith and courage to keep going in the direction that I'm headed.
I've still got things to let go of - old thought patterns, beliefs, and habits which no longer serve me. But I look at it differently today - I look at it as an adventure. And I've still got nothin' left to lose.
Namaste,
Ken
Twenty-one months or so ago, I gave up. I quit. I surrendered. My diseases had won - I was unable to function at any useful level. I was sick in body, mind, and spirit, and I was an abject failure - bankrupt in every sense of the word. So I agreed to do what was suggested to me. Why not? I had absolutely nothing left to lose.
In my previous attempts at recovery, and there have been many, I did what was suggested, if I felt it was a good idea, if it was in line with my thinking, and if it was convenient and did not impinge too much on my sense of self. Over the years, because of the negative consequences of my disorders, I became more and more willing to do more and more to recover. What I never, ever gave up before was my control over my life. Yes, I had consultants, and I even had a higher power that I consulted from time to time, but, in the end, I made choices based on what I felt was best for me, and, for me back then, the best I could do was protect myself. Above all else, my view of who I was and what I was about, no matter how flawed I was, must be protected, and any idea that threatened that protection was discarded.
When I began what I now call Total Recovery, I did not care anymore. I didn't care about living. I felt that I would never be able to live on my own, and I felt I would never be able to hold a job or do anything productive. I was so empty that I couldn't even commit a crime that would have landed me in prison, which would have been a good place for someone like me. I had nothing left inside. And, in order for me to recover, that's exactly where I needed to be.
"Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose." (Janis Joplin). I adopted an attitude of non-resistance, which I wrote about in an earlier post. I was able to release judgment about my life and what was happening to me. I was homeless, jobless, in IOP (intensive outpatient treatment), and I neither liked nor disliked any of it. It just was. From that non-resistance grew acceptance, and I felt a glimmer of hope - life was happening, and I was still ok. Lots of other things began to happen, which I won't detail right now. The point is that my life was moving in a direction, and I wasn't resisting it at all.
Soon I found myself experiencing things that I had not experienced before in my life. Four months into my recovery, I became self-supporting and began to learn how to be responsible for my life. This was something that was new to me, and potentially scary. But I continued to allow myself to be led.
And that's what I mean by being out on a limb. I'm experiencing things in my life that I've never experienced before, at least not in the way that I'm experiencing them. I'm embracing life, instead of trying to escape life. I feel more whole and authentic than I've ever felt before, but I keep expanding and moving forward. I'm finding out who I am.
And the point, for me, of being out on a limb is two-fold: I must rely upon my Higher Power, because I'm in uncharted territory; additionally, the past 21 months of Total Recovery give me faith and courage to keep going in the direction that I'm headed.
I've still got things to let go of - old thought patterns, beliefs, and habits which no longer serve me. But I look at it differently today - I look at it as an adventure. And I've still got nothin' left to lose.
Namaste,
Ken
Thursday, September 29, 2016
My Life Matters
Well, duh, right? Doesn't that go without saying? Of course my life matters...doesn't it?
Most of my life, I have felt that my life did not matter. I felt that if I had suddenly dropped off the face of the earth, not much, if anything, would change, and not too many people, if any, would notice.
And I often behaved the way I felt. Countless times I've put myself in dangerous situations. I have drank and used drugs recklessly, spent money recklessly (whether it was mine to spend or not), and for the most part, behaved in a way that showed I just didn't give a damn. I have had great opportunities for growth and for satisfactory living and tossed them aside, seemingly without a care. I have done things that I knew would attract less-than-pleasant situations into my life. I know full well the meaning of 'throwing caution to the wind.'
I've met people who were suffering from depression, and when thoughts of suicide entered their heads, they sought help. I never understood that. I used to think that my thoughts of suicide were, in my case, quite rational, and my only problem was that I didn't have the guts to follow through.
So that's the reason for this post: My attitude has changed. My definition of a miracle is anytime my attitude changes for the better. Changing the course of the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon seems to be an easier endeavor than changing my belief, thoughts, and attitudes.
I'm not important, but my life is. I don't know if that's a paradox or not, but that's my attitude today. What it means is that I need nothing special today because I already have everything I need. However, I do have something special to give - my own experience. Over the past few years, and especially the past year-and-a-half, I have allowed 'life' to steer me instead of me steering life. So, instead of placing myself in dangerous, self-destructive positions, 'life' has placed me in situations where I can be of service to others. I am meeting people I never would have dreamed of meeting. I am doing (good) things I never would have dreamed of doing. I am touching other human lives every day in positive ways. And I am willing to continue on this way indefinitely. I no longer look forward to the time when this will all end.
How did this 180° shift occur? Not overnight, that's for sure. It began with one small shift in attitude. If you've read previous posts, you might remember that I've had a belief my entire life that I don't know how to live properly and I can't handle life. I'm basically inept. That belief still resides within me today, and the shift is this: I used to try through various means to cover up the fact that I couldn't handle life (that may be another whole post, if I haven't written it already), and when I felt I could no longer cover up my deficiency, I sought escape through alcohol and other means.
A little over a year ago, I changed my tack. A little over a year ago, I hit a bottom, and was faced once again with the fact that I have absolutely no idea how to live. My options had run out. But there were a lot of people around me who were willing to guide me, and I began to take their direction with an open mind. Well, to be honest, at first the mind wasn't really open, it was more like, "It couldn't get any worse, so maybe it'll get better." When I began experiencing positive results inside of me, I knew something was happening. Most importantly, I knew I wasn't the cause. I was (and still am) allowing Something (God, Source, Life, Universe, First Cause, Whatever) to work through me. I was going with the process. I was trusting. I no longer had to come up with my own solutions (or work-arounds). I simply gave up control over my life. Under New Management. I surrendered. And it's important for my recovery to stay surrendered.
I remember joking that I quit self-employment because the boss was a real asshole. That's actually no joke. And the guy running my life would get lost in a closet.
It's really a big paradox. I've had a lot of head-scratchers over the past year or so, but it seems to come down to this - when I let go of the rudder. the boat that is my life seems to travel a lot better.
And today I can positively say my life matters, and that is truly a miracle.
Namaste,
Ken
Most of my life, I have felt that my life did not matter. I felt that if I had suddenly dropped off the face of the earth, not much, if anything, would change, and not too many people, if any, would notice.
And I often behaved the way I felt. Countless times I've put myself in dangerous situations. I have drank and used drugs recklessly, spent money recklessly (whether it was mine to spend or not), and for the most part, behaved in a way that showed I just didn't give a damn. I have had great opportunities for growth and for satisfactory living and tossed them aside, seemingly without a care. I have done things that I knew would attract less-than-pleasant situations into my life. I know full well the meaning of 'throwing caution to the wind.'
I've met people who were suffering from depression, and when thoughts of suicide entered their heads, they sought help. I never understood that. I used to think that my thoughts of suicide were, in my case, quite rational, and my only problem was that I didn't have the guts to follow through.
So that's the reason for this post: My attitude has changed. My definition of a miracle is anytime my attitude changes for the better. Changing the course of the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon seems to be an easier endeavor than changing my belief, thoughts, and attitudes.
I'm not important, but my life is. I don't know if that's a paradox or not, but that's my attitude today. What it means is that I need nothing special today because I already have everything I need. However, I do have something special to give - my own experience. Over the past few years, and especially the past year-and-a-half, I have allowed 'life' to steer me instead of me steering life. So, instead of placing myself in dangerous, self-destructive positions, 'life' has placed me in situations where I can be of service to others. I am meeting people I never would have dreamed of meeting. I am doing (good) things I never would have dreamed of doing. I am touching other human lives every day in positive ways. And I am willing to continue on this way indefinitely. I no longer look forward to the time when this will all end.
How did this 180° shift occur? Not overnight, that's for sure. It began with one small shift in attitude. If you've read previous posts, you might remember that I've had a belief my entire life that I don't know how to live properly and I can't handle life. I'm basically inept. That belief still resides within me today, and the shift is this: I used to try through various means to cover up the fact that I couldn't handle life (that may be another whole post, if I haven't written it already), and when I felt I could no longer cover up my deficiency, I sought escape through alcohol and other means.
A little over a year ago, I changed my tack. A little over a year ago, I hit a bottom, and was faced once again with the fact that I have absolutely no idea how to live. My options had run out. But there were a lot of people around me who were willing to guide me, and I began to take their direction with an open mind. Well, to be honest, at first the mind wasn't really open, it was more like, "It couldn't get any worse, so maybe it'll get better." When I began experiencing positive results inside of me, I knew something was happening. Most importantly, I knew I wasn't the cause. I was (and still am) allowing Something (God, Source, Life, Universe, First Cause, Whatever) to work through me. I was going with the process. I was trusting. I no longer had to come up with my own solutions (or work-arounds). I simply gave up control over my life. Under New Management. I surrendered. And it's important for my recovery to stay surrendered.
I remember joking that I quit self-employment because the boss was a real asshole. That's actually no joke. And the guy running my life would get lost in a closet.
It's really a big paradox. I've had a lot of head-scratchers over the past year or so, but it seems to come down to this - when I let go of the rudder. the boat that is my life seems to travel a lot better.
And today I can positively say my life matters, and that is truly a miracle.
Namaste,
Ken
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
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
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
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