June

June 1, 2005

"The quick inventory is aimed at our daily ups and downs, especially those where people or new events throw us off balance and tempt us to make mistakes."
(12 and 12, page 91)

   Step Ten says we "continued to take personal inventory," and that is to be done on a daily basis. Thank goodness for that, because I think many of us, myself included, might be easily led astray if it weren't for that maintenance Step. I recently took some clothes in for dry cleaning, unaware of the exorbitant cost. I paid it with a grimace and made a mental note to do some shopping around for better prices. One lady I mentioned it to ( who is not in the program, by the way) said to me: " Just let Ralph (not his real name) take it out to the prison where he works. He can get them cleaned for free."

  In my drinking days, I would have jumped on that like flies on stink, but today is different. I said "No thank you, that wouldn't feel right" Boy! Did that feel good. I always get a rush of self-satisfaction when I make good choices. I'd like to stick a gold star on my forehead when that happens, but that wouldn't be very humble would it? But seriously, not only am I staying sober in AA, but I am "improving my conscious contact with God" which enables me to make the right choice in a questionable situation. Alcohol robbed me of my morals and ethics---AA has given them back.

Today I am grateful I have the tools to stand behind the courage of my convictions.

June 2, 2005

"This is the baffling feature of alcoholism as we know it---the utter inability to leave it alone, no matter how great the necessity or wish." (Big Book, page 34)

  Do I hear an Amen? How many of us wished with all our hearts we could leave alcohol alone? How many of us knew it was absolutely necessary that we stop drinking? And here's the kicker.....how many of us could NOT stop even when we knew it was destroying us and everyone around us? Ah.....I see a lot of hands raised. Here's my Webster's definition of baffling: frustrating or perplexing.

  Indeed it is. We were just like the jaywalker the Book talks about. No matter how beaten, broken, and bruised the booze left us, we kept going back for more----gluttons for punishment I guess. I watched a show on drug addiction recently and the counselors in this rehab program placed a luscious, ripe strawberry in front of these addicts. She then asked them, "If I told you this berry was poison and you would die if you ate it, would you?" Well, they all looked at her like she was a nut and said "No way!"

  That was alcohol for us...that juicy, lovely berry that looked so innocent, yet was so lethal. Alcohol continues to baffle me. It still frustrates me. I'm perplexed every time a woman makes the choice to drink again when she knows how self-destructive it is. I despise this disease. My heart aches every time someone picks the bottle back up. I wonder how long they will stay on the road back to hell. I wonder if they'll make it back in alive.
I am grateful today I'm on the road of recovery.

June 3, 2005

  I heard someone share a gem early in my sobriety that helped me immensely as I was beginning my journey of recovery. He said he had two post-it notes on his bathroom mirror. One said: You are looking at the problem. The other one said: You are also looking at the solution. I made the same notes and put them on my bathroom mirror, at my computer desk, and on my fridge. It was time for me to look deep inside for the answers to the questions that had plagued me most of my life.     Why don't I feel like I belong? Why do I feel inadequate and unimportant? Why do my smiles feel forced? When will I ever find happiness and peace in my heart? Why can't I stop drinking? Why doesn't anybody understand me? Why am I a miserable failure----a wart on the butt of society? Why me God?

  That share really opened my eyes and mind. I had to admit, like it says in the Big Book that I made my own misery. God didn't do it. I was no Sally Sunshine----I was more of a Stormy Susie. I was in an alcoholic fog and I brought a dark cloud with me everywhere I went. I hurled lightning bolts at those who defied and denied me. I was that tornado "roaring my way through the lives of others." My husband came through the door after work with a grim expression on his face because he was always on Storm Watch. It infuriated me. I'd snarl "MUST YOU COME IN LOOKING LIKE THAT EVERY NIGHT!!!!!??????"
Did I find the answers to my questions? Yes, I did. I was miserable because I wanted to be and when I didn't want to be anymore, I came to AA.
Today I am grateful for clear skies and dry eyes.


June 4, 2005

Somewhere in this house is a cassette tape that I must search for because it is going to be awfully embarrassing if my family plays it after I've gone to that Happy Meeting in the Sky. I made it about 10 years ago and was drunk at the time. It is my dramatic farewell to my family...................OH! I could create the biggest soap opera storyline when I was drinking. Anyway, I sing a half-dozen songs to my children on it....Heaven only knows how pathetic I sound. I tell my husband how much I love and adore him and that I hope he remarries and is very happy.... blah blah blah.

   There's probably an hour of Oscar-worthy performing on it. Not only was I full of crap, but I was trying really hard to sound sane and sober. I could just visualize the kudos and kleenex that it would produce when it was played. Pardon me while I throw up!   After my singing and manure spreading, I tell my grieving husband and kids I want My Way played at my simple, humble memorial service at which I don't want anyone to cry........"remember me with laughter---celebrate my life", etc.....OK...I'll wait while you go throw up. Sheesh.

   There's a line in the song where Elvis (of course it was his version I specified) sings: "Regrets, I've got a few, but then again, too few to mention." Well holey moley.....I can't have THAT played now!  I'd look like a dead hypocrite. But seriously.....it will be interesting to find that thing and listen to my histrionics. It will be a comical, (or maybe sad) but realistic reminder of that fraudulent life I once lead. It should help keep me sober too.
Today I'm grateful I don’t have to act.

June 5, 2005

  In a few months, with the help of God and AA, I will have four years of sobriety. That time span holds a special significance for me. I seemed to fizzle at that stage in the past when it came to jobs. I've had 4 jobs that lasted four years and several others that lasted even less. With my hateful, critical personality as a practicing alcoholic, I hated everything after 2 or 3 years, and by the end of the fourth, I disliked my bosses, my co-workers, and my customers. In my arrogance, I thought I knew better how to run the businesses, and had disdain for my employers business practices. In addition, work interfered with my drinking.

   I drank on the job when I could, but it wasn't good enough because I couldn't drink the quantity I wanted to. I left all my jobs angry on the inside, even if I didn't show it on the outside. My anger was displayed openly however, on more than one occasion. In AA, I have yet to feel that boredom or restlessness. Instead, I feel excited about staying. I look forward to meetings and socializing with my peers. There we go....that's it! My peers. By George, that's the answer! Now that I am with people who understand and accept me, I am content where I am and have no need to move on to greener pastures. I like grazing in this one.

June 6, 2005

   I was talking to a woman in the program the other day and sharing with her the joy of my "discovery in recovery."  You see, rather than think of my journey as one of changing everything about myself, I like to think I am discovering who I am and who I want to be. It's too bad the slogan "Be all that you can be" has been taken by the Army, because it would be perfect for AA. We don't know who we are when we are submerged in our disease. We are disgusted with our behaviors and personalities, which only exacerbates our drinking. We are liars, manipulators, adulterers, thieves, cads, whores, and a plethora of other negative things.

   And even if you hadn't sunk that low yet, chances are, you would have. We may just be good people at heart who are influenced by alcohol to behave badly. Alcoholism is never an excuse, but it is a reason. We think "bad" or "worthless" is who we are, but it isn't. Speaking for myself, it was the welcome realization that I wasn't inherently bad that gave me the hope I needed to stay sober. I thought every good deed I performed while I was drinking was because of the guilt I felt over the bad deeds. In sobriety, I have found that isn't true. I still have a soft spot for animals, kids, and the elderly. I really am a loving, giving person and I didn't need to change that part of me. AA is the key that unlocks the self-doubt and reveals the potential we possess. I am so grateful and blessed that I was given the opportunity to discover who I really am.

June 7, 2005

  "No other kind of bankruptcy is like this one. Alcohol, now become the rapacious creditor, bleeds us of all self-sufficiency and all will to resist its demands." (12 and 12, page 21)
  Rapacious: Excessively greedy; ravenous; living on prey. The first time I heard someone quote that in a meeting, I thought they said predator instead of creditor. Certainly, both words are apt descriptions of alcohol, wouldn't you agree? My Pops wrote a poem years ago called, The Omnipotent Thief. The title referred to time, but this last verse could describe alcohol: " It steals til there is naught to steal, which seems to be its goal. Then for its final plunder, it steals your very soul"

  This disease of addiction is indeed greedy and ravenous. It chews us up and spits us out, or as I like to say, it masticated and expectorated me. I was the prey and it bled me until I was "code blue." It devoured my mind and body, then wanted my soul for dessert . Had it not been for Amazing Grace and AA, I would still be in the bowels of Hell right now.
I am grateful, so profoundly grateful I wasn't swallowed whole.


June 8, 2005

  "The persistent use of meditation and prayer, we found, did open the channel so that where there had been a trickle, there now was a river which led to sure power and safe guidance from God as we were increasingly better able to understand Him." (12 and 12, page 109)

   I've shared before with you that I proudly and belligerently proclaimed myself to be an agnostic after the death of my brother in 1973. Granted, I still used God as my "cosmic bellboy" when I was in dire straits--my hypocrisy knew no bounds--but I denied and defied His existence the rest of the time. Consequently, when I came to AA and learned I had to pray, it was one of the suggestions at which I balked. I didn't know how to pray to Someone I had cursed and rejected. I had dammed up that river of communication to God. I felt like a fraud, but I prayed as though my life depended on it, because it surely did.

   I heard people share in meetings that that "hit their knees" every morning when they got up and every night before bed, but I couldn't go that far. I began by apologizing to God for my angry words all those years ago, and just spoke to Him in normal conversations. I started to visualize Him riding in my car with me, sitting on the couch beside me, working beside me in the flower beds, and so on. I just talked to Him as though I were in a therapist's office. I still do.

  Sometimes, I engage in serious prayer if a friend or family member is in need, and that takes me into my closet, in the dark, and on my knees. Miraculously, that channel did open, and the trickle became a babbling brook. The more I prayed, the stronger the current became. The brook widened and transformed into that river the 12 and 12 mentions. It happened One Day At A Time and One Drop At A Time.

Today I am grateful the dam is broken.

June 9, 2005

  My mind has been an eddy of thoughts since I sent the Muse yesterday. I have been pondering the God of my understanding and realize He is so much more than a Guidance Counselor. He is a trusted friend and confidant. He is a sounding board, a father, and a problem solver and comforter . He reveals Himself to me in many forms and fashions. He breathed life into my comatose, alcohol-soaked senses.

   I hear Him in the group conscience at AA meetings and through the voices of the members. I hear Him in the singing birds and children's laughter. I see Him in the vibrant gold of the poppies in my back yard, the white, foamy waves of the ocean, and the rainbows after the storms. I smell Him in the sages, orange blossoms, and jasmine. I taste His work in the succulent, sweet peach and the buttery corn. I feel Him through my fingers as my tiny grandchild kicks in my daughter's womb. The peace and contentment I feel in my heart is Him.

I am grateful I came to my senses and came to believe.


June 10, 2005

These muses of mine are mere sounds, sights, and sensations my heart transmits to my head. Today my heart is heavy. I have been anguishing for a week over taking my cat, Scooter back to the vet to be put to sleep. I wanted her to die at home, not solely for my peace of mind, but to spare her that traumatic trip, the strange people in medical garb that frightened her, the confusion, and taking her last breath in a place that wasn't home. I made the decision this morning based on what I felt was best for her. She could barely walk; her meows have been whispered for 2 weeks; she hadn't eaten in 5 days, and there was sadness and resignation in her once sparkling eyes. I sit here now at my computer desk and realize that I can see her grave from my window. I buried her between the two white sages in the back of the yard, and the purple flowers I placed on the top of her grave can be clearly seen from where I now sit. I did not plan that, perhaps it was Someone else's plan because it brings me comfort now, and will for years to come. When Scooter showed up on my front porch 9 years ago, I was still more than 5 years from sobriety. I heard a ruckus outside where I kept food out for the feral cats and went to investigate. There was this 6 pound domesticated cat, smacking 4 or 5 other cats twice her size. She was growling and hissing, telling them she was the new Big Cat On Campus and they better get out of her way. I said to her " Well, you're a mean motor scooter aren't you?" She looked up at me and her demeanor changed completely. She got sweet and loving, first rubbing on my legs, then coming past me into the house to roll on my carpet. Her expression clearly said " At last....Home Sweet Home." How could I turn her away? Today, even though my heart was breaking, I was grateful for my sobriety.....grateful I could hold that little girl and soothe her; grateful I could place her needs before my own, and grateful for the gift of 9 years with her. I am especially grateful that almost 4 of those years were sober, real years.

June 11, 2005

   "Before, when we hurt, we ran to alcohol or other drugs. Now when we hurt, we run to the comfort of our sponsor and our program friends." (Keep It Simple)
Just the act of writing the Muse yesterday, and sharing my pain was comforting. Finding responses from my loving, compassionate Sisters in my mailbox throughout the day was so uplifting to my broken heart and spirit. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are all Special Angels.

  It's true that I used to run to alcohol. It was my one and only coping mechanism. Just as the ostrich buries his head in the sand, I buried mine in a bottle. I panicked when the whiskey level receded in the bottle. If it was less than half full, I was a basket case. Oh my gosh, what will I do, what will I do? Gotta get more, gotta get more! That semi-hysteria played in manic repetition in my head until I had a full bottle again. Yesterday, I was able to cope, accept, and deal with the sorrow life dealt me, without running to alcohol. I faced it with tears and pain, but also with grace and dignity. I used my "tool kit" and ran to my husband, daughter, son-in-law, and my Beautiful AA Sisters. Today I am grateful my race has a purpose, and I can run it sober and sane.

June 12, 2005

   I met Bobbie Pierce on my 8th day of sobriety. She was working at Casa Serena, a women's recovery home. They held a stag meeting there on Monday nights and it was a regular meeting for me the first couple months or so of my sobriety. I liked her immediately. Just the way she smiled at me from across the table seemed genuine and sincere. I was trembling with fear---fear of where I'd been and fear of why lay ahead for me, but Bobbie had a calming influence. She was candid, compassionate, and caring. She was real and that's what I wanted to be. I was weary of the false life I had been leading. I got to know her in the next year and came to admire her strength and courage. Her story of resurrection from the fires of hell was inspirational. She believed in AA, and she lived the program. She gave back above and beyond what is required of us. I am blessed to have met Bobbie early in my sobriety. God knew I needed strong, female examples to follow and Bobbie was one of the Angels He put in my path. Rest now Bobbie, you earned it. Knowing you, you've probably already started a meeting in Heaven.

June 13, 2005

  At the end of my drinking days, I withdrew from everything and everyone, just as the Big Book says we do. I pulled out of life's race and literally staggered toward that "state of pitiful, incomprehensible, demoralization." I closed myself up in the barn like an old, gray, swayback mare, sucking from a feedbag full of Jack Daniels. On September 23rd, 2001, I rejoined the human race.

   I get into the gate every morning with God as my jockey, guiding me to the finish line. Out of the gate we come and I try my best to let him hold the reins, lest I stumble. I slow down when he pulls me back and speed up when He urges me on. I'm a thoroughbred now with a purpose--get to the finish line every day without a drink. Each night I lay my head on the pillow with another day of sobriety behind me, I am victorious. I get to wear the blanket of roses to bed. My family no longer wants to send me to the glue factory, nor do they want to put me out to pasture. Every day I'm sober, I become less of a longshot and more of a favorite.
I'm so thankful I'm back on track.

June 14, 2005

  Addiction is a voracious, starving monster with an insatiable appetite. It feasts on chaos, anger, resentment, loneliness, and sorrow. After its had its fill of those emotions, it has seconds on our guilt and shame. We are the chefs. We whip up those tasty treats for the hungry monster and it eats away at us until our we are spiritually and emotionally emaciated. Once we come to AA and stop drinking, the beast becomes frightened because it knows its days are numbered......one day at a time. We learn to stop feeding it. We replace anger with joy; we join the fellowship and are no longer lonely; we discover ways to be serene and happy. We feel our spirit, mind, and body recovering-- growing stronger and healthier as we starve the monster. It waits and salivates. Eventually, it will become discouraged and go to sleep, but it doesn't die. It lives on the hope we'll pick that drink up again. Today I'm grateful the monster sleeps.

June 15, 2005

  "We know that little good can come to any alcoholic who joins AA unless he has first accepted his devastating weakness and all its consequences." (12 and 12, page 21)

  Interesting; All its consequences. I don't think I paid much attention to the last 3 words of that sentence before, and I've read it many times. Funny how sentences, paragraphs, or sometimes even a single word, seem to appear for the first time, or take on a whole new meaning as we read the books at different times in our recovery. That excerpt is from the 1st page of the Step 1 chapter. In retrospect, I think if I'd really comprehended and absorbed what "ALL" its consequences meant, I may have tucked my tail between my legs and run.

  There's another great line somewhere in the Big Book that talks about "taking it piecemeal" or a little bit at a time. Of course now, I am elated that I have worked, and continued to work the steps. I have accepted all the consequences of my disease and its damage, and have reaped the rewards of doing so in countless ways. How blessed I feel that my Higher Power kept my brain malfunctioning when I first came to AA. Too much, too soon may have shortened out my circuits.

June 16 , 2005

  "Alcoholics Anonymous began in 1935 at Akron, Ohio, as the outcome of a meeting between a well-known surgeon and a New York broker." (12 and 12, page 16)

  I am grateful today that I was born on 1954 instead of 1854. Can you imagine a life for us without Alcoholics Anonymous? Oh my stars! Someone could make a movie called " It's A Horrible Life" depicting what an alcoholic's life would have been like without AA. James Stewart's annual Chrismas tale couldn't hold a candle to it. We are blessed beyond words for that cosmic connection in Akron. We would have been doomed to die as drunks, never to have known freedom and true joy; never to have "comprehended the word serenity." Night of the Living Dead would have been our life story. Why don't we all take a moment today to say a prayer of gratitude for that meeting in 1935?

June 17, 2005

  I'm still weak and queasy this morning, but feel like I'm on my way back. I had a bowl of cereal last night and it stayed down....YAY! My strength level is about that of a newborn kitten, but I feel optimistic that I can build back up with food. I have missed my meetings! They have become such a necessary and integral part of my program and life, I feel their absence tremendously.

  I'm grateful for the Big Book, the 12 and 12, and for all things AA that I've accumulated and deposited in my heart, mind, and spirit-- sort of a mental checking account. All those assets are available for me to draw from while I am housebound. I pray I can get back in the groove before the checks start bouncing.

June 18, 2005

  "Years of living with an alcoholic is almost sure to make any wife or child neurotic. The entire family is, to some extent, ill." ( Big Book, page 122 )
My daughter was in therapy for about 10 years before I came to AA. She didn't tell me until after I had been sober awhile because she said she suggested therapy to me once when I was drinking and I told her that was for weaklings. She was in her early 20's and was in therapy herself at the time to deal with my drinking. Can you imagine how she must have felt when I said that?

  Those are memories that pain my heart still; those shameful flashbacks that emerge, uninvited and unexpected. I would be lying if I said I was completely guilt and shame free, all day, every day. I feel totally free for weeks at a time and one of those memories surfaces, the little daggers piercing my heart. I attend to those wounds as they come, and close them with the help of AA and the tools provided for me. The rewards of that healing process were evident through my recent adventure with El Influenza Diablo.

  That sweet little daughter of mine nurtured me with tender, loving care for 3 days, even though she had a mild and thank God, brief encounter with the devil flu herself. In my drinking days, I received no sympathy or empathy when I was sick, and rightly so. I was left to fend for myself on the bathroom floor more nights than I care to remember. Not so this time. I was helped off the floor and back to bed, with iced lemon water made with lemons she made a special trip to town for, along with special teas and holistic medicinals. She also made sure I had my bucket to deposit the aforementioned into, and a damp, cool washcloth for my head.
Page 133 in the Big Book talks about finding a way to see blessings in times of trouble. I saw those blessings; I felt them. Today I am profoundly grateful for the healing in my life; healing that has nothing to do with the flu.

June 19, 2005

  I was reading page 24 of the Big Book this morning and read this line: "There is complete failure of the kind of defense that keeps one from putting his hand on a hot stove." How true that is of alcoholics. We know we'll get burned, but we pick that drink up time after time---we just keep touching that stove until our hand is nothing but scar tissue, yet we continue to touch it.

  Today, I think of drinking again in more serious terms. I liken it to sticking my arm into an alligator's mouth and hoping he won't bite it off. I compare it to jumping from an airplane without a parachute, thinking that maybe, just maybe, I'll sprout wings on the way down. I see it as barreling down the grapevine in a triple trailer semi-truck, loaded down with tons of C4 explosives, nitroglycerin, dynamite, and enough fireworks to light up the Western Hemisphere, knowing beforehand that I have NO brakes, and harboring the insane thought that I might make it to the bottom without blowing myself and everyone in my path to smithereens. Those are pretty sobering thoughts.

June 20, 2005

  There's a paragraph in the Big Book that compares the fellowship of AA to survivors of a shipwreck. You'll have to look it up yourself......OH, OK! You twisted my arm, it's page 17. But be forewarned that I will be taking artistic liberties with the analogy.

  I have christened that ship the S.S Addiction. The lucky ones made it to the lifeboats. Some went down with the ship. Millions are treading water even now, and some will slip beneath the surface never to be seen again. Others will be relieved and grateful when the lifeboat finds them, or vice versa, and the hand of AA pulls them into the boat. But here's the sad part. Some survivors will actually jump from the lifeboat back into the churning sea. It's baffling, but the pull of the S.S. Addiction is powerful and they will be sucked to the bottom, into a watery and eternal grave.

  I am grateful today that I'm wearing my life jacket.

June 21, 2005

  "Once we have taken this step, withholding nothing, we are delighted. We can look the world in the eye. We can be alone at perfect peace and ease. Our fears fall from us. We begin to feel the nearness of our Creator." (Big Book, page 75)

  Of course, that paragraph refers to Step 5. I have shared at meetings that I "balked" when I arrived at Step 4. Digging up dirt and putting it down in black and white was not a task I relished. Most of my sins had been compacted and placed in the cold case files, way back in the farthest corner of my brain. They would go to my grave with me, of that I was certain. Opening those files made me feel worthless and filthy again. I could not comprehend how something so vile could possibly help, but I proceeded.

  I kept a notebook for weeks that I wrote in, finding a new hiding place for it every day. Still, when all was said and done and I was ready to climb that stairway to 5, I was torn between the desire to drink a fifth or taking the 5th. "I refuse to tell, on the grounds it might incinerate me." But here's what I did instead. I left off the most horrid, despicable things and headed to my sponsor's house, notebook in hand. When the last item was checked off, I put the papers down, took a deep breath, and said " There's more."

  Then I unzipped that closed file and somehow got the words out . Had I not done that, I surely would have drank again. I would most likely be dead. I would have robbed myself of the glorious gift of freedom; the feeling of serenity; the absence of fear; the fellowship, friendships, and fun.

  Today I am grateful for the courage God gave me that day to cleanse my soul.

June 22, 2005

  "However intelligent we may have been in other respects, where alcohol has been involved, we have been strangely insane. It's strong language---but isn't it true?"
( Big Book, page 38)

  To that I say, Amen! I can't tell you how relieved I was to discover during my first AA meeting that I was not a moron, I was a lunatic. I am not a well-educated person. I have a high school diploma and about 2 years of college. I never understood algebra, but still didn't think I was the village idiot until my disease took over my life. It was then I began to question my intelligence.

  I thought I was so clever and smart---chewing glucose tablets daily because I knew alcohol messed with my blood sugar levels; drinking a gallon of water between my 2 drunks each day to ensure proper hydration; taking various herbs to "cancel out" the damage alcohol caused. Heck, I even took up smoking at 32 because I read that alcohol dilated my arteries and tobacco constricted them, (or vice versa, I can't remember) so I deduced that if I added cigarettes to my alcohol consumption, you know, one smoke for every drink, that shoot---I'd be fine as a frog's hair!

  Balance it all out you know! It was very medical and scientific and I thought 'twas absolutely brilliant on my part. I kid you not ladies....that is all the gospel truth. That's how arrogant and twisted I was.

  To make a long story longer, my plan didn't work and by the time I got to AA, I thought my IQ must be down to about 17 because I COULD NOT STOP DRINKING! That excerpt on page 38 sure made me feel better when I read it. My problem was insanity, not stupidity.
Hallelujah! I'm grateful today I don't have to walk in front of fast-moving vehicles anymore.

June 23, 2005

  "Live so that you would not be ashamed to sell the family parrot to the town gossip." (Will Rogers)

  Early in my sobriety, I wouldn't have sold my parrot for all the gold in Fort Knox. It took me awhile to bring Meeting Nan home from the meeting. Oh sure, I would be on my happy, sober cloud until trouble came, then I tumbled off and fell back into old behaviors. A family member once said to me, "I wish your AA people could see you now." I don't recall the situation, but knowing me, I was probably being judgemental, critical, or perhaps even cussing, fussing, and fuming.

  As time has passed and I have incorporated my life into AA and the principles, I find that I am the same person most of the time. What you see is what you get! It's kind of like that movie, "The Three Faces of Eve" where the different personalities eventually became one. AA has taught me how to keep the good from each identity and remove the bad. That may seem like an over-simplification, but it works. Of course, it's a work in progress.
Today I am grateful for my "AA people."

June 24, 2005

  John Henry Fabre, the French naturalist, conducted an interesting experiment with some processionary caterpillars, which are called by this name because they blindly follow each other, one behind another.

  Fabre placed caterpillar food in the center of a flower pot and placed caterpillars end to end so they formed a complete circle around the edge of the pot. Round and around they went for seven days and nights until they dropped dead of starvation and exhaustion. With all the food they needed only a few inches away, they starved to death. (online daily devotional)

  And so it would seem there are "unfortunates" who circle AA in much the same way; going all around the program, but never coming inside the Circle of Life and partaking of the necessary nourishment. They just stay on the perimeter, moving but going nowhere. Some may even feel they are on the right track---at least they're following the crowd, but we have the ultimate responsibility as individuals to follow the right leaders.

  It was suggested to me early in my sobriety to "stick with the winners." My idea of a winner is someone who works and lives Steps of AA, attends meetings regularly, and exudes peace, contentment, and joy; someone who is honest and humble. Those are the caterpillars who don't go around and around the fringes of AA. They are in the middle so they won't starve to death. I can only speak for myself, but those are the bugs I want to follow.

  Today I am grateful to be inside where the "grub" is.

June 25, 2005

  "Nearly every serious emotional problem can be seen as a case of misdirected instinct." (12 and 12, page 42)

  This, like everything else in this book, and the Big Book is applicable to my drinking days---and quite honestly, even beyond that. Maybe even as recently as yesterday. Alcohol has a secret ingredient that made me believe I could read minds. Really. I could tell you what you were thinking and why you were thinking it. My instincts were reliable, don't you know? I had your motives figured out; I scrutinized, analyzed, and critcized your words and behavior because I was the Know-All, Be-All, and Do-All.

  Today I recognize that defect because my true instincts have been restored. I am no longer misdirected, rather I'm finally going in the right direction. Like I said, I still go astray and follow the wrong road sign occasionally. Ultimately, I will find myself stuck on a dead-end road when that happens, and it is the program that offers me roadside assistance.
Today I am grateful for Double A.

 

June 26, 2005

  Recently I had a revelation--one of those cranial light bulbs I've come to know and love. The 12 Steps are not punishment. It seemed that way the 1st time I worked them, but now I realize there is a huge, and I mean HUGE difference between punishment and amends. Amends are corrections; the righting of wrongs. My journey was and will continue to be one of atonement, or reparation; not only to others, but equally important, to myself.

  I had an irrational dread of Steps 4, 5, 8, and 9. The fear of those 4 Steps was gripping and all-consuming from the get-go. I couldn't even stay in the moment with those Steps looming in my future. "That's where the punishment starts" is what my thought process was. Granted, it was painful, but it was also liberating and I didn't feel beaten when I completed them. I felt utter relief and freedom.
Today I'm grateful I kept trudging.

June 27, 2005

  "We are not saints." (Big Book, page 60)
I know I am not a saint, nor is becoming one in the realm of possibility, but I think some of our spouses might qualify. I know I have made the statement, as have many others, "if you had my husband (or wife, if that applies), you would have drank too," and that brings a collective chuckle to the meeting, but in all honesty, I would not be here today if my husband had pulled "tough love" on me and booted me out on my drunken butt.

  He stood by me. He watched helplessly year after year; frustrated, angry, sad, and never once did he throw in the towel. He didn't leave and he didn't ask me to. He told me about a year into my sobriety that my raging drunks were easier to take than the desperation ones. I alternated between the 2 types. One day I was ready to kill him, and the next day he might find me in a dark corner somewhere, curled up like an embryo, wailing about how I just wanted to die. That, he said, was heart-wrenching.

  Today I am grateful for my husband.

June 28, 2005