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always be regretful, is not always long gone, there are times when i still feel more than a bit of regret about my immutable past. those times usually come upon me, when i see the pain i have just caused someone i loved and wonder if i will EVER change. that aberration in my daily behavior fuels the chain of evidence to the story i tell myself that once an uncaring, self-absorbed and self-entitled slob, always one.
when i came to recovery, my past was just that, past. i never gave a second thought to what i did yesterday, unless i had to check what i could get from whomever my latest hostage happened to be. my only regrets were, that i often had burned the bridges to those who could provide for me needs, with the lowest costs. often, i was more concerned about getting out and moist of the time, i left with a flash bang and more than a bit of damage. drugs were there, when regret and remorse started to creep in, and i applied the dosages liberally, as i rationalized, justified and minimized my part in my past. getting clean, well getting clean took away that escape valve and in the early days, i was riddled with remorse, regret, guilt and shame. i blamed those feelings of the fellowship, being a victim of the justice system and being forced into being abstinent, after all, if i could just take a little drop of poison i would feel just “fine,” again. even after my first set of steps, i was still riddled with regret and remorse and as i planned my escape from recovery, i was quite certain that i would also leave these undesirable feelings in the rooms, with all those losers who could not handled getting high.
ironically, before my plans came to fruition, i became a member, got a sponsor, and actually worked a set of steps at least up through Step 10, with that man. under his guidance, i finally could put my past into perspective and accept that using my past as a weapon against myself, was not going to foster my growth into the person that i had always wanted to be. the paradigm switch from my past as a weapon to my past as a tool, changed the story and the part of me i call addiction has been fighting that new version of that story ever since. weaponizing my past is one experience i GET to share with the men who call me their sponsor and my peers. when i stop and let myself feel, and the feelings are all about how worthless i am, i pause and see what version of the story of my past, is running through my head. the biggest obstacle to using my past as a tool for further growth and to allow others to identify with me, is that i feel it lacks value. my past does not include a whole lot of drama and trauma, until i was well into active addiction and a grown-ass man, of sorts. even then there were no Scarface moments, no gunfights, gang wars or a gaggles of people hanging on my every word. when i compare my boring story to that of my peers, i often wonder how valuable that story really is, after all, my desperation was so quiet that i missed identifying it for over eighteen months of my recovery journey.
this morning, as i prepare to sneak out to my home group, i am struck with the realization that maybe my past was more like that of my peers than i realize. i can see that my so-called boring life as an addict in active addiction may have been closer to the norm than i realize and that it is harder to get clean when one is living that sort of life. it is not the events, or lack thereof, that determine whether or not my past has value, it is the fact i survived that past and GET to share it today. in my mind, my early days of recovery are far more instructive than the years of my grey nonexistence in active addiction. i am however a very poor judge of how i see myself and my life, so i leave that determination of what part of my past is valuable up to the next person i share it with, just for today.

∞ DT ∞