My Sense Of Self Today

For the past twenty-five years I have explored self on a regular basis. A poor attempt to inventory myself. During those periods of examination, usually in the grasp of depression, intoxication or recovering from another binge, I always refrained from the feeling part of that morbid look into my inner places. It appears I was too busy trying to get out of a legal mess or manipulating someone who I had hurt; usually a family member or significant other who seemed to always be the recipient emotionally, verbally or in some cases, physically during those periods of self-degradation. At the same time, I was told, You need to get help and you need to do it for yourself. It is not only my self-examination I question, it was and is the ever-present ignorance of society and the never-ending hypocrisy and stigma of those who profess their understanding for a practicing addict that causes pause in my now sober thinking and feeling. Why cant normally intelligent people realize that by the time we are to the point of being told these things, there is little, if any self left and we are barely functioning as a person? To be so observant and ignorant at the same time would have caused Freud to change professions.

Despite this, we find some inner ego or remembrance of times gone by that gives us hope. It may be the thought of life lost, some remote feeling about who is buried deep inside or we are just tired of being tired. Somewhere a morsel of dignity surfaces at just the right time. My belief is that it may be more our spirit than dignity. That spirit that is in each of us that gives rise when it seems all else fails and we are sucked dry by life or some challenge we never thought we were capable of accomplishing. General William Tecumseh Sherman in Somewhere inside we find courage, often through fear. Those human elements that offer us hope and spirit that seem to be so elusive during most of our using lives surface from some mysterious place. It appears that having lost those essential parts of our being is another of the weapons addiction utilizes to bury our virtues in a heap with the rest of our qualities that are used to define us as good people.

It is with these thoughts and feelings I write this to those of us who are enduring the terror of using and are moving to a place that, while far more peaceful, is in some ways just as consuming, burdensome and complex with not only the stressors of life, but the daily reminders that we were once out of control. According to many, even some working with addicts, it is with certainty we will always be beyond trust. I understand that my drug of choice opened the gates for the monster in me. It is how I am perceived by some, coupled with my fears, feelings, anger and guilt, that at times encompasses and causes frustration in my recovery. Those who think the miracle for us is not a second away but is measured in light years is that part of society that at times weighs most heavily.

However, while my thinking and feeling becomes more sober, understandably the past still surfaces on occasion. One looks at self and is unable to comprehend ever having been that lost or that afraid of life. But strangely, as time passes, that place to be feared becomes safer to accept and I am more willing to look deeper into the why rather than the what without the fear of total humiliation. On some level, we want so badly to go back and fix the past and all of those we hurt, but it is not ours to choose. Those victims play a greater role in our recovery than we would ever have admitted when we were using. We can live with embarrassment and disappointment but remorse can be crippling. In the throws of my addiction, those people were only a means to an end and mattered little. They were there to be manipulated and abused whenever the moment presented itself. For me, and I assume others, facing what I was and having no control over making amends with them is very difficult, particularly those we still care for or those who deem us forever a menace to society and ourselves. The ghost of our addiction raises its head and constantly reminds us that we no longer can control those who were in our lives. It has taken me time and patience to realize while this is complex, it is a positive reflection of our moving forward. Realizing one cannot control others but only themselves is not an epiphany, but simply a caring for and acceptance of self and others. It is no longer a price to be paid, but a new conscience of ourselves. Life on lifes terms. To paraphrase a line from the movie Tombstone, There is no normal life, there is only life. It doesnt mean we forget, only that we embrace the feelings and have the courage to face them and learn. Facing the consequences of our past takes courage and it is the sense of feeling that is paramount, not just what we are feeling but how we approach the fact that we are in a place that used to be reserved for an excuse to use. Any excuse would do. So it faces us, life on lifes terms. It is not a revelation or crucible but simply normal human feelings. Accept them for what they are and allow them.

On April 29, 2004 I, like millions of others before me, hit rock bottom. It was not my legal situation or my relationship with my significant other that hit me between the eyes. It was something far more personal, far deeper and far more complicated but somehow simultaneously simple. It was, in some fashion a satisfying death, a running to life rather than through or from it. More specifically a plan of the moral execution of what I had become. Having heard the term rock bottom hundreds of times during my drinking career, I often pictured a scene from an old movie with the drunk passed out in the alley, layered with filth, no job, an empty bottle pressed near his chest. I thought that person woke to a revelation of sorts, besieged with guilt and ran directly to the nearest priest or clergy to confess all of the hellful sins committed during their lifetime. Any picture would do, as long it wasnt of me. For me it was recognition of self. Maybe I was just tired. I cant define what occurred, I could only relate to it in my own way. It was mine; I owned it and I knew. It was not a bolt of lightening or some vision. It was more subtle, a sense of courage and commitment inside myself. I just knew it was time and I was face to face with me. Facing life on lifes terms after all of those years. What an anomaly, to be happy with self!

I have spent most of my adult life thinking that if I worked hard enough, studied more or challenged my intellect further I could come to terms with my addiction, which unknowingly had become self. It turned in to a maze with no exit, denial in its purest form. It was far deeper than denial; it was who I had become. It was far more involved than that, encompassing my entire existence. I was feeling more than just a need! I realized it somehow (this is going to sound weird) had to do with why I was even placed on this Earth. Not just the alcohol, but also the life that I had been living. This was going to be my legacy? I realized there was several of me inside and outside. The feelings that were hidden, buried deep inside of my body and I was about to compete against myself; to go to those places that I never went because it was not only too difficult, but it may cause me to expose those secrets that would force me to literally fight for my life. For some unexplainable reason, I chose that path. I quit hiding myself. My imaginary friend had surfaced and it was I, waiting to be tested, to be attacked by a need to be sober. I didnt decide to work on my sobriety, I committed to it. I allowed it to happen and while I didnt have any idea what was going to take place, I was going to go through whatever it took to find out. I was, in some strange way, willing to face hell and whatever that meant. I had fallen but I could get up.

My first challenge was to not drink. While I have great respect for the nectar of the gods, I was one of the lucky ones. I wasnt physically addicted to alcohol; therefore I didnt have to go through the agony of detoxification. I have witnessed that and while it reeks of death, it is a cleansing that few people can survive without help. It seems to endure detox as not only a beginning but also an end. It is a tiny, but necessary step to free ones self from using for the moment. Just the agony of the experience would be enough to entice a weaker spirit to give up and use again. Somehow those people reach inside of themselves to a place we think doesnt exist for us and find the will to stay with the pain and survive. Their own private battlefield where, when the war is over, there are no cheering crowds, only the self fulfilling sense of surviving a tiny step toward living. Not the same kind of sense of courage that one must have felt in a traditional battle; those end at some point, at least from a physical standpoint. It is the emotional and mental moment that you win.

Taking your own life back is only the first leg of a lifelong journey that will not only be agonizing but rewarding and overpowering. It is reminiscent of a fire. Just when the smoke has cleared and you drop your tools, the flames engulf you so quickly that you find yourself back in the middle of a blaze that takes your existence back in a matter of minutes and you find yourself using again. That is not the fire, but the dropping of your tools that has re-ignited the addiction. To forget where we came from and the struggle is a step toward relapse. There is no secret therapy or magic pill that will keep us from stumbling but if we never give up and keep our faith alive, we can persevere. It is a slow process this sobriety business, but each day I find more seeds of hope, pride, dignity, honor, courage and faith scattered throughout my life. I need to constantly tend them as a parent cares for a child with understanding and discipline. Being perfect is not the answer. Seeking it, knowing it may never happen and accepting that helps me in recovery. I have realized we are not as fragile as we think. We can endure the pain and survive.

For me, the challenges of daily life are difficult, as they are for most people, addict or not. While there are many thoughts and feelings that surface from time to time, I am amazed with my ability to recognize and process them in a different way. Often I think of the past and how horrifying my behaviors were and how many times I was out of control. With that thought comes yet more feelings and reflection regarding the bad times. Not once, that I remember, did I ever have problems in my life that were not related somehow to my alcohol use. As I look to those times and try to discover some thought process to make them less agonizing, I try to rationalize them as explainable, often to no avail. The truth of the matter is, there is one common thread; my use of alcohol and the subsequent behaviors. Thankfully, at times humility overtakes me and in the big picture, its presence often blesses me with acceptance. I do not and will not accept my past in the traditional way, but will respect it as part of my recovery and know that it is and was my illness.

To this point the experience, even though new in terms of time, has been beyond anything I could have imagined. I certainly am in debt to my family and friends who, as written, stuck with me. I would never have reached this point without the help of the caring people at Cedar Ridge in Linn Creek, Missouri. Their experience and approach to recovery gave me the tools needed to confront this terrible illness. Without their guidance and care, many of us would not have been on this journey. While I learned so much about recovery, I learned more of myself. For me that is one of the major steps in any endeavor, regardless of the addiction. They trusted me and I learned to trust them. That for me caused a refreshing re-birth and I absorbed that trust not only for them but also in myself. I learned that everybody does this recovery thing in a different way and must work their own program their own way. The interesting thing about it all is that it constantly changes, which gives it a kind of morbid comical twist if you keep an open mind. Life is often difficult but good.

I have made a commitment today. I will not drink. Tomorrow is what it is; a new beginning. Yet another opportunity to continue my journey. To accept life on lifes terms and to thank my higher power for what I have found and the strength that I will never lose it is what gives me hope and faith. I will continue my journey and praise those who have gone, in part, with me. To those who truly know what love is and have their own form of faith, I will forever be indebted. I will honor those who traveled this road before me and always reach out to those who follow along this path. Thankfully this is a communal effort and using others to remain sober is not only acceptable but also encouraged. I have learned that to give up on others is to give up on self. I have also learned that this life of being sober is very simple and complicated at the same time. While I am older, it is the joy I remember in my youth when I face each day and live life on lifes terms.

Courage is a perfect sensibility of the measure of danger and a mental willingness to endure it. General William Tecumseh Sherman