🏯 when i attempt 🏰
Posted: Thu, Sep 28, 2017 07:35:34 AM
to control my life, i frequently am met with failure. on the other hand, when i let go and allow myself to **feel** the opportunities i am provided by the POWER that fuels my recovery, more often than not, i succeed. that is where my HOPE of becoming something more springs from and it is certainly the foundation of my FAITH in myself and the program of recovery that presents me with a new manner in which to live.
one of the guys in my book club, up until last night, knew that i was an addict in recovery. i got outed by one of the members, when i spoke of my inability to suspend disbelief enough to allow myself to watch Breaking Bad. it is true i could have found a way to tap dance and use my bestest jazz hands to get out of that situation, i chose however to confront it head on and just bite the bullet and let him know what the others already have known for quite some time. the truth is, those guys are certainly part of the other 85% and even though they have tasted the “forbidden fruit,” they do not get that for me, it was not what i used, it was how it made me feel, that i chased for all those years. it is what it is, and this morning as i sit here and actually have the time to write a bit, i can see that what i think was ⇛ my daily program of recovery, is not as written in stone as i once believed. when i set that three meetings a week was my minimum, i never though they were going to land on Saturday, Sunday and Monday. when i started seeking a spiritual path that “fit” who i was, i hardly expected to land so far East. when i decided to clean up my finances, i hardly expected to have my life filled with contractors, mortgage bankers and job recruiters. when i said yes to every man who asked me to sponsor them, based on the notion that the POWER that fuels my recovery, would never give me more than i could handle, i did not expect that number to grow to thirteen. on and on, the examples of self-will turned into consequential events and processes has been the story of this addict's recovery journey over the past twelve months. even so, i can see that i initiated all of those processes when i got tired of the despair in my life. that i could stop, listen and feel my way to new way to see my world and those i share it with, is some sort of miracle, in and of itself.
first the rainbows and unicorns, now for some rain and thunder. i still find the drivel that falls out of the mouths of the treatment denizens, distasteful and a waste of my time, glad i had the forethought to buy a fidget spinner to get me through those particular times of despair. there is still a desire within to prove that somehow after a few days clean, i have become normal and i can use like the rest of the human race. the worst piece is that the lies i told myself that kept me using, are still being whispered today, namely that i can settle because i am not good enough to thrive. the rage that once triggered, has been transformed into a slow boil, that bubbles under the surface and i act out by trying to manipulate those around me and who trust my guidance to act, think and recover to fit my cookie-cutter ideas of what a recovering addict should look like. that is to be expected, considering my spiritual path of opposites creating a whole. without what i do not like, how can i gauge what i truly like, especially in myself. where ones all i was, was darkness, now there is more balance between the dark and the light. so HOPE is balanced by despair, and most days, HOPE wins, just for today.
so it is off to the salt mines, to see what i can be and how much better i can get. just for this day.
one of the guys in my book club, up until last night, knew that i was an addict in recovery. i got outed by one of the members, when i spoke of my inability to suspend disbelief enough to allow myself to watch Breaking Bad. it is true i could have found a way to tap dance and use my bestest jazz hands to get out of that situation, i chose however to confront it head on and just bite the bullet and let him know what the others already have known for quite some time. the truth is, those guys are certainly part of the other 85% and even though they have tasted the “forbidden fruit,” they do not get that for me, it was not what i used, it was how it made me feel, that i chased for all those years. it is what it is, and this morning as i sit here and actually have the time to write a bit, i can see that what i think was ⇛ my daily program of recovery, is not as written in stone as i once believed. when i set that three meetings a week was my minimum, i never though they were going to land on Saturday, Sunday and Monday. when i started seeking a spiritual path that “fit” who i was, i hardly expected to land so far East. when i decided to clean up my finances, i hardly expected to have my life filled with contractors, mortgage bankers and job recruiters. when i said yes to every man who asked me to sponsor them, based on the notion that the POWER that fuels my recovery, would never give me more than i could handle, i did not expect that number to grow to thirteen. on and on, the examples of self-will turned into consequential events and processes has been the story of this addict's recovery journey over the past twelve months. even so, i can see that i initiated all of those processes when i got tired of the despair in my life. that i could stop, listen and feel my way to new way to see my world and those i share it with, is some sort of miracle, in and of itself.
first the rainbows and unicorns, now for some rain and thunder. i still find the drivel that falls out of the mouths of the treatment denizens, distasteful and a waste of my time, glad i had the forethought to buy a fidget spinner to get me through those particular times of despair. there is still a desire within to prove that somehow after a few days clean, i have become normal and i can use like the rest of the human race. the worst piece is that the lies i told myself that kept me using, are still being whispered today, namely that i can settle because i am not good enough to thrive. the rage that once triggered, has been transformed into a slow boil, that bubbles under the surface and i act out by trying to manipulate those around me and who trust my guidance to act, think and recover to fit my cookie-cutter ideas of what a recovering addict should look like. that is to be expected, considering my spiritual path of opposites creating a whole. without what i do not like, how can i gauge what i truly like, especially in myself. where ones all i was, was darkness, now there is more balance between the dark and the light. so HOPE is balanced by despair, and most days, HOPE wins, just for today.
so it is off to the salt mines, to see what i can be and how much better i can get. just for this day.
∞ DT ∞