“We can’t solve our problems using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.” — Albert Einstein
It’s been over 2 years since I wrote my last post. I’m actually shocked that what I set out to do back then is actually happening to me now. While I didn’t get sober and stay sober when I started this blog back in 2017, I’m sober now. My sobriety birthday is February 9, 2018. I’ve been sober for 632 days…
So what changed? Well, for starters, my alcoholism progressed through 2017 and got worse not better (despite my wishing and shallowly praying it away). Then I was given a gift — the gift of desperation.
My disease brought me to my knees and God pushed me through the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous. A lot of other crazy shit happened, but that’s the gist of it.
Reading some of my old posts, it’s fascinating how much wisdom spewed out of my little fingertips back then. It sounded like I had it all together, like I had this disease all figured out. But that was just the beginning, and the bottle I vowed to put down had claw marks all over it…
Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) changed my life in a tangible way. I had first been exposed to AA and NA (Narcotics Anonymous) when I was 17 and going through out-patient rehab for a cocaine addiction supported by an alcohol addiction. We were required to go to a certain number of meetings a week in order to “graduate” the program. This is probably where my false beliefs about addiction stemmed. The idea that I could graduate and not have to deal with it again. I missed the memo on this being a relentless life-long disease.
In any case, the seed was planted, however shallow.
The next time I was exposed to AA was after my boyfriend gave me an ultimatum, stop drinking or I’m gone.
A few meetings over the course of a month or so and that little seed planted 5 years prior began to sprout.
I knew I was an alcoholic, but still I thought I could will it away on my own. I didn’t drink for a little over 6 months. I moved to Germany to live with my boyfriend. It seemed like all was well. But the inevitable happened and I drank again. Thus followed 2 years of jumping on and off the wagon. Pure misery if you ask me. Well, if you ask anybody, really. I made life miserable for myself and everyone around me.
When my boyfriend and his family finally had enough, I got a one-way ticket back to the desert. That was January 2018. I drank the whole way home. My body was giving up on me now. I could barely keep any amount of food or booze down. I vowed that the second I stepped foot off that airplane I would be done drinking for good. I was sure of it!
Thus followed another month of oblivion.
Then some how, some way, on February 8th after a long night of drinking Triple Sec alone on the couch in a puddle of my own tears, I had had enough. I found a meeting and went.
I heard a woman named Nan speak that night and immediately after the meeting asked her to be my sponsor. Not only was I given the gift of desperation that day, but willingness, too.
I became willing to just follow directions. To do whatever she told me to do.
I could probably write a novel about my journey from February 8th until today. And who knows, maybe someday I will. But for right now I’m just going to write whatever comes to mind. For myself. For my continued sobriety, healing and spiritual prosperity.
That little seed planted 13 years ago has sprouted new roots. Roots that are growing deeper and stronger into the rich soil of recovery every day. I’m no longer the lone tree up on the hill trying to survive. I live within a dense forest under the same sun.