“It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness. To the precise extent that we permit these, do we squander the hours that might have been worth while. But with the alcoholic [and addict], whose hope is the maintenance and growth of a spiritual experience, this business of resentment is infinitely grave. We found that it is fatal. For when harboring such feelings we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the Spirit. The insanity of alcohol [and/or other mind-altering chemicals] returns and we drink [and or use] again. And with us, to drink [and use] is to die.
If we were to live, we had to be free of anger. The grouch and the brainstorm were not for us. They may be the luxury of normal men, but for alcoholics [and addicts] these things are poison.”
I read these words a few minutes ago, except the words in brackets which I added myself since I have experienced dual addiction, because I desperately needed that reminder. I believe the words in those two paragraphs. I know they have been true in my own personal experience. I know that my only hope is in my relationship with my God. I know that when I am consumed by anger and resentment that I lose touch with Him. I lose my ability to rest in the shadow of those wings. I forget to trust. I know this. I know the solution. I know I have to let go of my right to be mad and give it all over to the One who is greater than I.
Yes, I know what I need to do. The execution of that is a little more difficult at the moment however. I am hurt, frustrated and angry. Angry really seems like too calm a term to use. I am enraged. I want to let it go, but I also want to let it burn like a wildfire in the dry season. I want to curl up in a little ball and cry. I want to fight, to strike out at something, anything. I want to say screw it and quit trying. I want the fairness I don’t deserve. I want it all made right at this very moment. I want a break. I want to scream at God and ask, “What the fuck?!” Not a polite, respectable, or morally just response I admit, but it is as honest as I can be right now. My God is big enough to take it. Besides, He already knows how I feel in my heart, whether I speak it out loud, write it, or bury it inside and try to pretend it doesn’t exist. That last one doesn’t work for me too well anymore, because another part of those previous paragraphs that is quite true is that anger pushed down, kept inside, and denied is pure poison.
I only know two antidotes for such deadly toxins in my life. The first is God. The other is better living through modern (and ancient) chemistry. The first works without adverse side effects. The second kills me as surely as the poison does. So I must choose the first if I am to survive. I have to get my help from Him. But that help can not come if I can not be honest with myself and with my God about how I feel and what I am thinking. I can’t go to the doctor with a broken arm, tell him I have a little twinge of pain in my arm but my sinuses are killing me and expect to have my arm treated properly. Yes, God knows what’s wrong. He knows better than I do. But I need to be able to express it honestly, to cry out for help and not hide any of the symptoms, including attitudes and thoughts I wouldn’t like to admit in front of my mother. Why? Because it is only when I am truly able to be honest about what and how I feel that I can become willing to let God do what needs to be done to change it. If I am trying to hide my anger and pain from Him, and really, how foolish is that idea, I can’t let him anoint my wounds with the soothing and healing balm that comes from Him. I can’t let a wound be treated that I am pretending doesn’t exist.
So I admit I am angry. I admit that a part of me wants to hold on to that anger and let it burn and destroy things, even my life if that is what it takes to burn up all the fuel of resentment that I have in my tank. I admit that I feel abandoned. And I admit that I know that I have never been abandoned of God, that letting the fires burn is insanity, and that I know that what I want to do and what I need to do right now are two entirely different things. Now that I have looked at that and admitted that I can say, “Please save me from myself. Please take this hurt, confusion, and anger from me, even the parts of those that I don’t really want to let go of. I am willing, please help me with my unwillingness. I know the path I am inclined to take, my natural instinct and reaction, is a perilous path of danger and death. Show me the detour that You would have me take and guide me safely through the shadows. Help me to understand that I don’t need to understand but to trust. Thank you.”
And maybe, just maybe, if I cling to that prayer and the One who has the power to answer it, I will find myself safely passing through the storm. If not, if the waves wash over me and crush me, then I can go down knowing I did my best to do it God’s way and not mine, and there is peace and freedom in that as well. As long as I keep trying, as long as I don’t drink or drug, rescue is possible. It may be from an uncharted island after my ship crashes on the rocks instead of being safely guided to harbor, but rescue is rescue.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
The other day I participated in a discussion on the subject of resentments. It occurred to me that unresolved anger, unforgiveness, resentments held on to leave us raw and reactionary. I remember a time in my teens when I made a mistake with some gasoline that cause it to explode up and around me. I quickly realized that I had covered my upper body and face with second degree burns. I felt pure agony.
My burnt skin became so sensitive that everything caused sharp and burning pain. Things that normally felt good suddenly became distressful. The Air conditioner made me ache as the cool air on my skin provided a sensation much like being cut. But when I turned the AC off, the heat on and from my body made me burn, and the sweat running down my body tortured me. There was nothing I could do to find a position and environment that provided comfort and relief. I quickly fought that discomfort with chemical aid.
I mention that story, because I think that’s what resentments do. When I hang on to the hurt and anger, to my right to play the part of the victim, and to the justification of the wronged and abused, I fill my life with a toxin. Unforgiveness in my life and heart poisons me in a way that leaves my emotional and mental nerves raw and exposed. Now the least amount of stimulation, even things which should be positive and feel good, suddenly cause me pain and discomfort in a way that causes a reflexive reaction that I can not control. It happens before I can even think about how I should respond. I have already reacted. The reaction is almost always either flee from whatever I feel causing pain or fight, strike back, hurt whatever or whomever is hurting me.
Thinking about this made me realize that fear is the same for me. When I allow myself to become filled with fear I lose my ability to think clearly, to make rational, wise decisions. My mind becomes like a raw nerve where any situation can leave me totally paralyzed or fleeing in a blind state of panic. How many times have I stayed in a wrong or unhealthy situation because the possible dream mixed in with the unknown and risk felt more frightening than the hell I lived in? How many times did I latch onto the first possible avenue of escape from my situation willing to settle for anything different in the hopes that different could also mean better? And as crazy as it sounds, how many times have I attempted to do both at the same time for the same situation?
When I live in fear I can not ever be satisfied with any current situation. I look for danger, for the bottom to fall out of every good thing in my life. I find myself constantly looking for, hoping for, wondering about the possibility of better. But when I am able to trust God, release my fear, and live in the now, then I can experience the present in a way that involves peace, joy, hope, and other such positive rarities. When I am not afraid then I can move on to the next phase of my life because that’s what needs to happen, not because I am terrified to stay where I am at. Or I can stay in situations through difficult times because I know that I am right where God wants me today and not because I am paralyzed by fear and unable or unwilling to do anything else. I can wait for direction because I am not panicked. Or I can move on command without hesitation knowing that I trust my commander.
That makes sense to me, but for some reason I find it so difficult to practice. So many of my nerves are still raw, made doubly sensitive by both resentments and fear. I know in order to deaden those reaction producing nerves I need to let go and forgive and trust God. The perfect salve is available for my needs, but sometimes I forget to use it. When I find myself wanting to make quick decisions because something happened or someone did something, it is a sign for me that I am becoming sensitive in those nerves once again. When I find myself trying to read what others want or are going to do so that I know what I feel I should do, then I am living on outside stimulus and not listening to the still quiet voice inside. I am raw and reactionary; I have allowed fear to fester and grow in my life again, or I have been hurt and have not released that pain and anger, haven’t forgiven, have held on to that resentment.
If the condition worsens, I will lose all ability to make any choices for myself. Every choice I make, each path I start down, will be a reaction to something outside of me. I know. I’ve done it too many times. I lived my life like that for far too many years. I turned myself into a puppet controlled by others, even if I did the opposite of what they wanted every time, my actions were still determined by my perceptions of someone else’s thoughts, feelings, desires, etc. But when I release those resentments, rid myself of fear, turn my will and path over to my God and then trust said God to guide, protect and accompany me, then those nerves are soothed. The pain fades. The air on my skin feels good again. I can be comfortable enough to be still so that I can hear myself think, so that I can hear God. Then my actions are controlled from the inside, and whatever comes, because good and bad come to us all in this life,. Then I can remain happy, joyous and free, content in and comforted by the light of the Spirit.
My burnt skin became so sensitive that everything caused sharp and burning pain. Things that normally felt good suddenly became distressful. The Air conditioner made me ache as the cool air on my skin provided a sensation much like being cut. But when I turned the AC off, the heat on and from my body made me burn, and the sweat running down my body tortured me. There was nothing I could do to find a position and environment that provided comfort and relief. I quickly fought that discomfort with chemical aid.
I mention that story, because I think that’s what resentments do. When I hang on to the hurt and anger, to my right to play the part of the victim, and to the justification of the wronged and abused, I fill my life with a toxin. Unforgiveness in my life and heart poisons me in a way that leaves my emotional and mental nerves raw and exposed. Now the least amount of stimulation, even things which should be positive and feel good, suddenly cause me pain and discomfort in a way that causes a reflexive reaction that I can not control. It happens before I can even think about how I should respond. I have already reacted. The reaction is almost always either flee from whatever I feel causing pain or fight, strike back, hurt whatever or whomever is hurting me.
Thinking about this made me realize that fear is the same for me. When I allow myself to become filled with fear I lose my ability to think clearly, to make rational, wise decisions. My mind becomes like a raw nerve where any situation can leave me totally paralyzed or fleeing in a blind state of panic. How many times have I stayed in a wrong or unhealthy situation because the possible dream mixed in with the unknown and risk felt more frightening than the hell I lived in? How many times did I latch onto the first possible avenue of escape from my situation willing to settle for anything different in the hopes that different could also mean better? And as crazy as it sounds, how many times have I attempted to do both at the same time for the same situation?
When I live in fear I can not ever be satisfied with any current situation. I look for danger, for the bottom to fall out of every good thing in my life. I find myself constantly looking for, hoping for, wondering about the possibility of better. But when I am able to trust God, release my fear, and live in the now, then I can experience the present in a way that involves peace, joy, hope, and other such positive rarities. When I am not afraid then I can move on to the next phase of my life because that’s what needs to happen, not because I am terrified to stay where I am at. Or I can stay in situations through difficult times because I know that I am right where God wants me today and not because I am paralyzed by fear and unable or unwilling to do anything else. I can wait for direction because I am not panicked. Or I can move on command without hesitation knowing that I trust my commander.
That makes sense to me, but for some reason I find it so difficult to practice. So many of my nerves are still raw, made doubly sensitive by both resentments and fear. I know in order to deaden those reaction producing nerves I need to let go and forgive and trust God. The perfect salve is available for my needs, but sometimes I forget to use it. When I find myself wanting to make quick decisions because something happened or someone did something, it is a sign for me that I am becoming sensitive in those nerves once again. When I find myself trying to read what others want or are going to do so that I know what I feel I should do, then I am living on outside stimulus and not listening to the still quiet voice inside. I am raw and reactionary; I have allowed fear to fester and grow in my life again, or I have been hurt and have not released that pain and anger, haven’t forgiven, have held on to that resentment.
If the condition worsens, I will lose all ability to make any choices for myself. Every choice I make, each path I start down, will be a reaction to something outside of me. I know. I’ve done it too many times. I lived my life like that for far too many years. I turned myself into a puppet controlled by others, even if I did the opposite of what they wanted every time, my actions were still determined by my perceptions of someone else’s thoughts, feelings, desires, etc. But when I release those resentments, rid myself of fear, turn my will and path over to my God and then trust said God to guide, protect and accompany me, then those nerves are soothed. The pain fades. The air on my skin feels good again. I can be comfortable enough to be still so that I can hear myself think, so that I can hear God. Then my actions are controlled from the inside, and whatever comes, because good and bad come to us all in this life,. Then I can remain happy, joyous and free, content in and comforted by the light of the Spirit.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Learning to see the miracles
I live in East Texas, and a miracle occurred here last night. It snowed. Not the “Hey it’s snowing outside look at the miniscule flakes because it’ll melt two seconds after hitting the ground” kind of snow, but the four inches of powder on the ground in the morning kind. I know, for everyone a few hours north of here, the above sounds silly. Snow in the north is like pine trees here…too common to be a wonder. But here it is a miracle of drastic proportions that shuts down schools and stops the world for a little while, causing wonder much on the same level as Christmas morning.
And I didn’t care. A friend texted me last night. “IT’S SNOWING!!!” I didn’t even get up and go look outside. I didn’t feel well. I’ve been sick for days and spent the vast majority of the last 24 hours sleeping off and on, mostly on, and doing little else. My thoughts centered on my misery, and when I heard the news of a miracle happening, I could not bring myself to care enough to even get up out of bed. Around four in the morning, I took a peak after having to get up for a restroom visit. The snow glistened in the moonlight, and the sight of my motorcycle in outline, completely covered in snow like a custom fitted canvas cover filled my heart with joy and awe, for a few seconds anyway. I wanted to take a picture, but the light at that time of morning is not well suited for photography. I told myself I would shoot the scene at sunrise.
Not longer after my resolution to capture this miracle through my passion for photography, I promptly fell back asleep and stayed in dreamland until about 11. So much for that idea. I went outside, and the scene still inspired, but much of the snow had already melted leaving the lower half of my Shadow visible. The opportunity had not passed completely, but the scene that inspired me no longer existed. I felt a moment of regret for not caring enough at the time to stay awake the two hours that would have enabled me to shoot the scene. I say photography is my passion, but my passion this morning could not override my self-pity and comfortable misery.
An hour later, I left the house. The land lay blanketed in white, but all too often, all I noticed was the decay. The water dripped from trees and rooftops as the snow melted. The snow on the road turned to slush and became brown as it mixed with mud. I saw the coming end of the miracle and the mess that would be left behind. I wanted to see the miracle. I wanted to feel that joy that lit up the eyes of those I encountered as they relived the memories of snow days past. I talked with a few people of the Storm of ‘83 like an old timer. But the awe of the day that everyone seemed to be feeling eluded me.
I realized my life has been much like that. I spent my life so self-centered and focused on my lack, my problems, the dreams I just knew would never come true, my pain, my my my. I lived this way so much it killed and overrode my passions. I found my enthusiasm, hope, and joy had expired like a special offer coupon discovered two days too late. I failed to see the wonder of so many miracles in my life. The few I did manage at the time the were occurring, failed to inspire awe for long. I quickly saw the decay, the shortcomings, the fleeting nature of anything good in my life. I knew the time would quickly come when the miracle would melt away leaving only nasty, brown sludge in it’s wake. Is it any wonder I never saw life worth living when I looked at it through eyes glazed over by scales of negativity. No wonder I needed any and every chance to escape the life I knew, felt and saw around me.
After thinking of these things a short while, I walked back outside and looked around with scale-free eyes. Beauty surrounded me. The miracle invaded my soul and reminded me that life is good, that even decaying miracles are better than none and can lift the spirit. There is hope to be found. Sure the snow will melt away, but one day, perhaps even in this decade, snow will fall and stick once again. I don’t need one big burning bush miracle to change my life. I just need to retrain myself to the see the beauty and power of the many little miracles that flow through my life on a frequent basis from my God who loves me and makes me capable of being moved by the beauty of life, even life filled with slush and the inconvenience of downed power lines.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
THE TREASURE OF THE PAST
“Showing others who suffer how we were given help is the very thing which makes life seem so worth while to us now. Cling to the thought that, in God's hands, the dark past is the greatest possession you have -- the key to life and happiness for others. With it you can avert death and misery for them.”
I read this today, and I want to believe it so badly. Need to believe it. And to some extent I do. I do believe that my past experiences can help me help others, to show them that I’ve been where they have (maybe even worse places), to show that I truly understand how they feel and what they’re going through, to prove that God loves them and can help them.
How, one might ask, is that last part true? How can anyone prove God can do anything. Simply put, anyone who takes a halfway objective look at my past can see God’s hands all over it. I should be dead so many times over. There’s no way I should have been set free from the traps I so willingly walked into. I never could have stopped living my life a slave to my addictions had God not intervened on my behalf in just the same miraculous power as He displayed when he parted the Red Sea to free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. Moving some water around may have even been easier than changing my heart and mind and giving me my much-needed escape route. And if God loves and saved me, there's no one too far gone to be forever outside the love and help He wants to give.
And lately, as I have been struggling, helping others has been the main thing that has given me purpose, helped me to focus on something other than my own problems and fears, quite frankly kept me sober and clean. It does work. For a while. But it is not the long-term solution. My long-term solution is my faith, connection to, and relationship with my God. There is no other path for me that leads to success and a life worth living. I know, because for more than a quarter of a century I tried every other path I could think of. I served the God of self as fanatically as any cultist follows their leader to the punch bowl. And with just about the same results.
My problem at the moment is, just to be totally honest, a lack of faith. Has God freed me from the chains of addiction? Yes. And I fully believe He will continue to do so for as long as I seek relationship with Him and refuse to willingly put them back on. Has he changed my life in positive ways that others can see? Absolutely, and I am grateful, so very grateful, for that. I feel blessed to have been able to help a few others because of the miracles that have happened in my own life. Am I happy, joyous and free? Occasionally, although the stretches in between those times have been increasing lately. The problem is I am starting to feel about the miracles in my life and the positive aspects of my recovery much like I used to feel about the grace of God.
I used to believe grace was God giving me just enough relief to want to get up after being knocked down and just enough strength to get me on my feet so that I could be knocked down again. Not a very flattering portrait of my loving Creator and not a true one, I know. But it’s how I felt for years. It reached the point where discussions about grace with my pastor/father immediately triggered tears and a plea…don’t talk to me about grace. Thankfully I no longer feel that way on the subject, at least not often.
But now I question and feel a little like I have been given, and will be given, just enough of the promises that come with recovery, of the strength, joy, peace, etc. to keep me going, to stay sober, and to help others. No matter what, I believe God can and will give me enough of the strength, wisdom, courage, and whatever else is needed to be a servant and be used by Him to reach and help someone who may not find that help anywhere else. But the personal freedom and fulfillment I seek, that may never come.
Once again I repeat that I know not everything I think or feel is true. And at my core, I know that it isn’t true that God will leave me lonely and hurting and broken forever. But right now, all I can see is loss. I feel the weight of wreckage in my past, wreckage that I caused, that can never be cleaned up. I see obstacle after obstacle serving as road blocks on the highway of dreams I have for myself. And I can’t help but ask myself how to give up, how to walk away from what few dreams I have remaining and still have a life worth living. When I begin to back away from one possible path where the future is clearly not going where I feel I want and need, I time and time again find I have exited onto another road with just as impossible a destination. Then what? Do I make a U-turn and return to the road I left? Do I try to force things? Do I risk trying yet another road? How fast do I give up? If I quit too easily and early I may miss out on the miracle that clears the roadblocks and makes it possible to reach my destination. If I stay too long before giving up how much more wreckage in my life and the lives of those I care about will I cause? And if I simply give up on the dream destination and go a completely different route, will I find my destination obscured by the fog of regret. I don’t know. And unfortunately, the wheels keep spinning even as I seek the answers. There’s truly no such thing as standing still in life.
The key, I believe, is to find the path that God wants me to take. If I do that, then whatever roadblocks I come across will eventually be cleared away or a detour will be provided. But right now I am so confused, afraid, and filled with regret that I can not see which way God wants me to go. I can not find the faith to believe that the wreckage of my past that is obstructing my progress in the present and destroying my hopes for the future can ever be cleared away. I feel like the man who told Jesus, "I believe. Lord, help me with my unbelief."
Today I pray that I may not be weary, disillusioned, or disappointed. I pray that I may not put my trust in the ways of the world or myself, but in the way of the spirit.
I read this today, and I want to believe it so badly. Need to believe it. And to some extent I do. I do believe that my past experiences can help me help others, to show them that I’ve been where they have (maybe even worse places), to show that I truly understand how they feel and what they’re going through, to prove that God loves them and can help them.
How, one might ask, is that last part true? How can anyone prove God can do anything. Simply put, anyone who takes a halfway objective look at my past can see God’s hands all over it. I should be dead so many times over. There’s no way I should have been set free from the traps I so willingly walked into. I never could have stopped living my life a slave to my addictions had God not intervened on my behalf in just the same miraculous power as He displayed when he parted the Red Sea to free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. Moving some water around may have even been easier than changing my heart and mind and giving me my much-needed escape route. And if God loves and saved me, there's no one too far gone to be forever outside the love and help He wants to give.
And lately, as I have been struggling, helping others has been the main thing that has given me purpose, helped me to focus on something other than my own problems and fears, quite frankly kept me sober and clean. It does work. For a while. But it is not the long-term solution. My long-term solution is my faith, connection to, and relationship with my God. There is no other path for me that leads to success and a life worth living. I know, because for more than a quarter of a century I tried every other path I could think of. I served the God of self as fanatically as any cultist follows their leader to the punch bowl. And with just about the same results.
My problem at the moment is, just to be totally honest, a lack of faith. Has God freed me from the chains of addiction? Yes. And I fully believe He will continue to do so for as long as I seek relationship with Him and refuse to willingly put them back on. Has he changed my life in positive ways that others can see? Absolutely, and I am grateful, so very grateful, for that. I feel blessed to have been able to help a few others because of the miracles that have happened in my own life. Am I happy, joyous and free? Occasionally, although the stretches in between those times have been increasing lately. The problem is I am starting to feel about the miracles in my life and the positive aspects of my recovery much like I used to feel about the grace of God.
I used to believe grace was God giving me just enough relief to want to get up after being knocked down and just enough strength to get me on my feet so that I could be knocked down again. Not a very flattering portrait of my loving Creator and not a true one, I know. But it’s how I felt for years. It reached the point where discussions about grace with my pastor/father immediately triggered tears and a plea…don’t talk to me about grace. Thankfully I no longer feel that way on the subject, at least not often.
But now I question and feel a little like I have been given, and will be given, just enough of the promises that come with recovery, of the strength, joy, peace, etc. to keep me going, to stay sober, and to help others. No matter what, I believe God can and will give me enough of the strength, wisdom, courage, and whatever else is needed to be a servant and be used by Him to reach and help someone who may not find that help anywhere else. But the personal freedom and fulfillment I seek, that may never come.
Once again I repeat that I know not everything I think or feel is true. And at my core, I know that it isn’t true that God will leave me lonely and hurting and broken forever. But right now, all I can see is loss. I feel the weight of wreckage in my past, wreckage that I caused, that can never be cleaned up. I see obstacle after obstacle serving as road blocks on the highway of dreams I have for myself. And I can’t help but ask myself how to give up, how to walk away from what few dreams I have remaining and still have a life worth living. When I begin to back away from one possible path where the future is clearly not going where I feel I want and need, I time and time again find I have exited onto another road with just as impossible a destination. Then what? Do I make a U-turn and return to the road I left? Do I try to force things? Do I risk trying yet another road? How fast do I give up? If I quit too easily and early I may miss out on the miracle that clears the roadblocks and makes it possible to reach my destination. If I stay too long before giving up how much more wreckage in my life and the lives of those I care about will I cause? And if I simply give up on the dream destination and go a completely different route, will I find my destination obscured by the fog of regret. I don’t know. And unfortunately, the wheels keep spinning even as I seek the answers. There’s truly no such thing as standing still in life.
The key, I believe, is to find the path that God wants me to take. If I do that, then whatever roadblocks I come across will eventually be cleared away or a detour will be provided. But right now I am so confused, afraid, and filled with regret that I can not see which way God wants me to go. I can not find the faith to believe that the wreckage of my past that is obstructing my progress in the present and destroying my hopes for the future can ever be cleared away. I feel like the man who told Jesus, "I believe. Lord, help me with my unbelief."
Today I pray that I may not be weary, disillusioned, or disappointed. I pray that I may not put my trust in the ways of the world or myself, but in the way of the spirit.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Slippery Slope
I have no idea how to express how I am feeling right now. I’m not sure I even want to…not to myself, and certainly not to whoever just might happen to surf by and read this. But when I start running from my feelings it’s a dangerous place for me. When I start hiding how I feel because I am afraid of hurting someone or losing someone or something, the situation is even more dangerous. It doesn’t help that I am in pain and probably not thinking too clearly.
My two 12-step meetings that are the most important for me to make are tonight, and I don’t want to go. I have a good excuse not to. I can’t walk more than a few feet without a drum solo of throbbing pain starting on the stage of my ankle. I folded my ankle completely sideways yesterday morning. Nothing serious. The injury is only a bad sprain, I can’t walk and hurt, but I’ll be fine in a day or two I’m sure. In the meantime, the pain is distracting and an easy excuse to do nothing.
But a few minutes after telling a friend I might not be at the second meeting tonight, I knew I wasn’t being honest. It would be best if I can admit that to others, but I must admit it to myself. I simply don’t want to go tonight. Thanks to my ankle blowing up on me yesterday morning I missed doing some things I really wanted to do. Now I feel like I’m playing catch up.
But I need to be careful. I’ve been too close to the edge lately. I have a hundred excuses to use within easy reach. I am afraid of letting things slide to the point where I am tempted to look for one of those excuses, where I begin to listen to the siren call of my addiction, where my spiritual condition becomes to poor to continue to keep me safe. But I am tired. I am confused. I am afraid. And I feel I need to address the situations, yes plural, that are causing those feelings and not just run and hide from them. Unfortunately, I can’t figure out how to do both. At least not at the same time.
My two 12-step meetings that are the most important for me to make are tonight, and I don’t want to go. I have a good excuse not to. I can’t walk more than a few feet without a drum solo of throbbing pain starting on the stage of my ankle. I folded my ankle completely sideways yesterday morning. Nothing serious. The injury is only a bad sprain, I can’t walk and hurt, but I’ll be fine in a day or two I’m sure. In the meantime, the pain is distracting and an easy excuse to do nothing.
But a few minutes after telling a friend I might not be at the second meeting tonight, I knew I wasn’t being honest. It would be best if I can admit that to others, but I must admit it to myself. I simply don’t want to go tonight. Thanks to my ankle blowing up on me yesterday morning I missed doing some things I really wanted to do. Now I feel like I’m playing catch up.
But I need to be careful. I’ve been too close to the edge lately. I have a hundred excuses to use within easy reach. I am afraid of letting things slide to the point where I am tempted to look for one of those excuses, where I begin to listen to the siren call of my addiction, where my spiritual condition becomes to poor to continue to keep me safe. But I am tired. I am confused. I am afraid. And I feel I need to address the situations, yes plural, that are causing those feelings and not just run and hide from them. Unfortunately, I can’t figure out how to do both. At least not at the same time.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Walking through the Valley God made a way
I delayed writing this because I wanted to tell the person who heard God and blessed me so much what happened first before I told the world. After Nick overdosed last month and his sister convinced me to sing at his funeral, Andrew told me that he wanted me to sing at his funeral. I wonder if he was already thinking about going home, because about a month later, I found myself facing that exact scenario. The song he wanted sung is one I love but haven’t heard enough to really know and feel comfortable singing without Johnny Cash accompanying me. For the curious, the song is a cover of Trent Resnor of Nine Inch Nails called Hurt.
I freaked. How am I going to perform this song without any practice or even getting to listen to the song a few times. I prayed that if I really needed to do this for Andrew, or even just for myself, that God would give me a clear sign and then help me get through it. I didn’t tell anyone because I secretly wanted an excuse not to sing at the funeral. Then Tuesday night my sponsor said she had something for me. She gave me a package that I later discovered contained the Johnny Cash CD with that very song. I cried, put the CD in the listened to it a few dozen times. Wednesday morning I sang it at Andrew’s funeral. I got through. It sounded decent I guess, especially considering that I was crying long before the song ended, but at least I didn’t screw it up.
I made it through the song and through the funeral. I said goodbye to the man I believed just a few weeks ago would be in my life for the rest of it. My third funeral in a week came to a close, and I felt so much loss and pain I can’t describe it. But I discovered strength I didn’t know I had access to. Strength came from the support and love of friends new and old that refused to let me drown in the stormy waves of self-pity and grief. Strength flowed into me straight from the throne room of God and carried me safely back home. I prayed. I cried. I went to meetings. I talked to people about what was going through my head and the pain the filled my heart. And I stayed sober and clean. A miracle I am truly grateful for. God came through for me in a big way. Every time I find myself swamped by soap opera quality drama in my life I tend to doubt that God loves me. I can so relate to Christ’s cry of “My God my God why hast Thou forsaken me?” But the truth is that He never has. He never will. He loves regardless. And as long as I turn to Him when the fit hits shan instead of running away from Him and the pain then my recovery has a chance.
I freaked. How am I going to perform this song without any practice or even getting to listen to the song a few times. I prayed that if I really needed to do this for Andrew, or even just for myself, that God would give me a clear sign and then help me get through it. I didn’t tell anyone because I secretly wanted an excuse not to sing at the funeral. Then Tuesday night my sponsor said she had something for me. She gave me a package that I later discovered contained the Johnny Cash CD with that very song. I cried, put the CD in the listened to it a few dozen times. Wednesday morning I sang it at Andrew’s funeral. I got through. It sounded decent I guess, especially considering that I was crying long before the song ended, but at least I didn’t screw it up.
I made it through the song and through the funeral. I said goodbye to the man I believed just a few weeks ago would be in my life for the rest of it. My third funeral in a week came to a close, and I felt so much loss and pain I can’t describe it. But I discovered strength I didn’t know I had access to. Strength came from the support and love of friends new and old that refused to let me drown in the stormy waves of self-pity and grief. Strength flowed into me straight from the throne room of God and carried me safely back home. I prayed. I cried. I went to meetings. I talked to people about what was going through my head and the pain the filled my heart. And I stayed sober and clean. A miracle I am truly grateful for. God came through for me in a big way. Every time I find myself swamped by soap opera quality drama in my life I tend to doubt that God loves me. I can so relate to Christ’s cry of “My God my God why hast Thou forsaken me?” But the truth is that He never has. He never will. He loves regardless. And as long as I turn to Him when the fit hits shan instead of running away from Him and the pain then my recovery has a chance.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Still safe...so far
Well I made it into town tonight for Andrew's funeral tomorrow. What a drive. Ok, most of the drive really wasn't that bad, but parts...
My mind kept returning to the oversensitive reaction I had earlier today to something my father said. He didn't mean anything negative or disparaging but I took it wrong, got my little feelings hurt, got angry and cried and cursed at the sky for about 30 minutes after. On the three hour drive tonight I thought about it a lot. I need to find a way to get over this and let it go, or I will get drunk over it eventually. People die. I can handle that. But rejection from lovede ones? Never been much good at dealing with that, especially if said loved ones were Mom or Dad.
Got to Montrose and found out that C is so messed up that he may not even make the funeral. I don't know if I felt more angry or scared about that. I hope he shows tomorrow. If he doesn't I may look for him. I know I can't save anyone, but I can't help trying.
Finally found a hotel room and let a few friends know I am safe and well. I greatly appreciate all the friends that have one above and beyond to help me mmake it through the insanity of both fate's pranks and my own self-imposed crisis this, well this last month really.
I am not looking forward to this funeral. In some ways it's not yet real to me that Andrew is truly gone. The pain that will come with that truly sinking in is not something I am eager to experience. But some things just have to be done. One of the side effects of God bringing me to life is that now I can actually feel the pain that life throws at me. But I can also access the grace of the God who set me free from the bondage of self, drugs, and alcohol. I am grateful enough for the latter to put up with the former.
My mind kept returning to the oversensitive reaction I had earlier today to something my father said. He didn't mean anything negative or disparaging but I took it wrong, got my little feelings hurt, got angry and cried and cursed at the sky for about 30 minutes after. On the three hour drive tonight I thought about it a lot. I need to find a way to get over this and let it go, or I will get drunk over it eventually. People die. I can handle that. But rejection from lovede ones? Never been much good at dealing with that, especially if said loved ones were Mom or Dad.
Got to Montrose and found out that C is so messed up that he may not even make the funeral. I don't know if I felt more angry or scared about that. I hope he shows tomorrow. If he doesn't I may look for him. I know I can't save anyone, but I can't help trying.
Finally found a hotel room and let a few friends know I am safe and well. I greatly appreciate all the friends that have one above and beyond to help me mmake it through the insanity of both fate's pranks and my own self-imposed crisis this, well this last month really.
I am not looking forward to this funeral. In some ways it's not yet real to me that Andrew is truly gone. The pain that will come with that truly sinking in is not something I am eager to experience. But some things just have to be done. One of the side effects of God bringing me to life is that now I can actually feel the pain that life throws at me. But I can also access the grace of the God who set me free from the bondage of self, drugs, and alcohol. I am grateful enough for the latter to put up with the former.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
