May

May 3, 2005

   I was reflecting this weekend on how different the trips out of town with my husband are now that I'm sober. In my B.S. (Before Sobriety) days, we fought about everything. If I said black, he argued it was white, and vice versa. Nobody liked to be around us---we were ulcer material. A powerful motivating factor in my drinking was punishment. He was "the good guy" in our relationship, and by process of elimination, that left "the bad guy" position for me to fill.

    I punished him for making me feel diminished and inadequate. I punished him because he was reliable and responsible and I was a drunken flake. I punished him because he could control his drinking and I couldn't. And how did I dispense this punishment? Well, by drinking of course! I spent an immense amount of time teaching him a lesson. Unfortunately, I failed to get my Master's in teaching. What I got instead was a Master who taught me how to major in guilt, shame, and self-loathing---that despotic King Alcohol.

  How peaceful it is in my home, heart, and hotel rooms now. My husband tried so hard not to snore this weekend. He was propped up on three fat pillows so maybe he wouldn't keep me awake; and he didn't. THAT, my friends, is progress. In closing today, I want to thank my Muses by Proxy, Claudia and Pat for filling in for me while I was gone. Weren't they awesome? I am grateful to them for being so a-Muse-ing.

May 4, 2005

  Suggested prayer: "Dear God, please give me a noble cause for which to live--not so big that it will cause me to be proud … not so small that it will never be a challenge … but big enough to make me stretch and grow … and give my life significance. And most of all grant that it will be a blessing to others and bring glory to your name. Thank you for hearing and answering my prayer."

  This is the prayer that closed my daily online devotional yesterday. I thought it was worth sharing. I've written before about how I questioned the meaning of my life while I was drinking. I'll never forget coming into sit at the computer one day and reading a dialogue box on the screen that said " your account has been logged off due to inactivity." I recall sighing and saying " Yeah, just like my life."

   That was several years before I got sober but I knew in my heart then that something was terribly wrong. Today, I feel significant. I feel that helping other alcoholics is a meaningful and noble cause. I dream of writing my autobiography; I aspire to go back to school; I hope, I yearn, I long to do many things---but today I am grateful I am doing something useful. It is a learning and growing process that has helped me log back on to life.


May 5, 2005

  I used to go to great lengths in my early drinking and carousing career to beautify my outsides. I wanted every man to drool over me when I walked in a room. I was slim and trim; I shaved my legs and armpits (and other hairy places) regularly; I plucked my eyebrows like a pro; I wore sexy lingerie; I wore make-up, fixed my hair, and kept my body tan year round. Oh I really thought I was the Tomcat's Meow! But on the inside, I felt sinful, ugly, and dirty. I had the inherent knowledge of right and wrong ingrained upon my very soul, but I chose to ignore my conscience. I ignored it for so many years, it almost disappeared.

   Every time I picked up that drink, I knew it was wrong and I kept picking it up until that line between right and wrong became so blurred, I couldn't see or feel it anymore. By the end of my drinking career, I was isolating in my home for weeks at a time in holey sweats, hairy legs, and greasy hair. Like the old cigarette ad said; "You've come a long way, Baby." I went a long way all right---a long way down. I had fallen through the looking glass where chess pieces spoke, mushrooms made me shrink and grow, and white rabbits were always late. I was in Alcoholic Wonderland.

I "wondered" how I ever got myself in such a place. I made it out just before the Red Queen took possession of my head. Today I am grateful that even though I'm not slim and trim; I'm never tanned; the only teddy I own is stuffed; my disposable razor lasts WAY longer than it should; and men don't drool over me, it's OK. Today I am drop-dead gorgeous on the inside!

May 6, 2005

" But we must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse, or morbid reflection, for that would diminish our usefulness to others." (BB page 86)

  When we have taken our 9th Step up, it is advisable to keep climbing that Spiritual Stairway. Once we have done all we can do to right our wrongs, to look back and dwell over them would be detrimental to our recovery. Daily living amends is our best hope for letting go of that sometimes sordid past.

  For me, it's a matter of striving to balance those moral books. I know God has forgiven me, and I have forgiven myself, but that doesn't mean I'm free to go my merry little way, no charge for services rendered. The Big Book tells us that "there is a long period of reconstruction ahead" and that a "remorseful mumbling that we are sorry won't fill the bill at all." Each day when I awaken, I continue to say " Thank you God for another day of sobriety and thank you for another day of life----another day to right my wrongs."

   I hope I'm still saying that on the day I draw my last breath. That doesn't mean I'm wallowing in guilt and shame, nor does it mean I have to berate myself for those wrongs. It only means I must be ever mindful of the debt I owe; that I must give back daily what I have been given. It is in that giving back, or "carrying the message" that I do my penance to my family, society, myself, and God. I am grateful for that privilege.

May 7, 2005

  "Someone had pushed a drink my way and I had taken it. Was I crazy?"
(BB page 5)

  I remember 6 years or so before my sobriety date, I set out to prove to my husband and daughter that I wasn't an alcoholic--that I could quit any time I wanted to (sound familiar?). I actually lasted for six, excruciatingly long months. Then came Christmas Eve and we sat in the floor to open presents. I picked up an unusually heavy one with my name on it and opened it to find the biggest bottle of Seagram's 7 that you can buy. An old drinking buddy and fellow alcoholic had sent it. I practically salivated all over the torn wrapping paper before I got to the kitchen. It was December 24th, 1995.                    I poured my "first" drink and didn't stop until September 23rd, 2001.

   Whew....that last bender was a doozie!  Was I crazy? You bet your sweet bippy I was---- crazier than an outhouse rat. The insanity of alcohol had returned the instant I saw that bottle and began to drool. The Master had waited patiently, knowing its slave would be back.  I like being lucid and cognizant. I like having all my mental faculties intact. I'm tremendously grateful for that. I'd like to keep it that way and I know precisely how to do that now; go to meetings; work and live the Steps; talk to you guys; read the Big Book; write these papers; pick up the phone; I could increase the list ad infinitum.

May 8, 2005

   The commercials advertising alcohol always make me smile at the very end when they tack on "please drink responsibly." Heavens to Mergatroid! That's an impossible order for an alcoholic. I never drank responsibly in my life. Once I ingested enough, all bets were off and no holds were barred. Even the Jehovah Witnesses (no offense intended) who came to my door were fair game for my razor-sharp tongue. I once answered the door half-naked, rock music blasting, with my whiskey glass in hand, just to mess with their minds. I invited them in but they declined.

   You KNOW you're bad when a Witness refuses an invitation to come in and talk. Maybe someday they'll return and I can make amends to them. The only chance I have of controlling my behavior, actions, and words is to NOT drink. That is the gospel truth.
Today I am grateful I KNOW I can't drink responsibly.

May 9, 2005

" If you are not happy today, what day are you waiting for?" (Keep Coming Back) None of us knows what day we will draw our last breath; it could be tomorrow. Speaking for myself, particularly as an alcoholic who wasn't happy for many years, I want to squeeze as much happiness out of my remaining years or days as is humanly possible. I want to use my energy for positive things, not negativity. I want to magnify my blessings instead of my troubles. I want to make lemonade when life hands me lemons. Corny sayings, but true nevertheless.

   I am so high on life at this point in my journey of recovery. My senses have been resurrected and I am deliriously drunk with optimism. As I "improve my conscious contact with God," I am becoming spiritually healthy and whole. I don't feel fragmented and disjointed---afloat and drifting in a sea of despair and hopelessness. I feel like I'm going somewhere. I don't know what my destination is or when I will arrive, but I sure am enjoying the ride! I'm not waiting for happiness to come to me. I am choosing it every day when I wake up.
Today I am grateful the wait is over.

May 11, 2005

"He cannot picture life without alcohol. Someday he will be unable to imagine life either with alcohol or without it. Then he will know loneliness such as few do. He will be at the jumping -off place. He will wish for the end. We have shown how we got out from under. You say 'Yes, I'm willing. But am I to be consigned to a life where I shall be stupid, boring, and glum, like some righteous people I see? I know I must get along without liquor, but how can I? Have you a sufficient substitute?' Yes, there is a substitute and it is vastly more than that. It is a fellowship in Alcoholics Anonymous. There you will find release from care, boredom, and worry. Your imagination will be fired. Life will mean something at last. The most satisfactory years of existence lie ahead." (BB, page 152)

   Well---I would like to just say "Amen" to that and close the Muse, because that was a lengthy excerpt, but I like to hear myself write, so bear with me. (har har) WOW! Is that awesome? I've read it a dozen times, but it means something wonderful and new each time I read it. That's because those promises continue to be fulfilled. Every day I feel more liberated than the day before. As my mind has gained more clarity, my imagination has indeed been fired. My life is WAY better than satisfactory. In retrospect, I see that my alcoholic life was the 'stupid, boring, and glum' life. And life DOES mean something. I have gone from self-destruction to self-preservation; self-loathing to self-worth; chaos to serenity, and misery to contentment. AA is the best substitute in the world for alcohol. Alcohol is a taker of life but AA is a giver.

Today I am grateful I jumped off in the right direction.

May 12, 2005

  Good people can make bad choices just as bad people can make good choices. The fact is we are all the sum total of all of our past choices. Our past was shaped by the choices we made in the past. Our future will be shaped by the choices we make today. (daily online devotional)

  When I drank, I had no happiness in my future. I was shaping a grim and bleak future by making the choice to drink. I am living One Day At A Time now, but by not drinking each day, I have a wonderful life to look forward to. I have not drank for the last 1227 days, so those days are in the bank for peace and contentment tomorrow, and many tomorrows down the road. If I practice the principles of AA and stay sober, I won't make bad choices and create damage that will haunt me later on and jeopardize my hope for a bright future. What a great insurance policy!

Today I am grateful I am in "Good Hands."

May 13, 2005

  I was walking around my back yard, on the phone with a fellow AA woman the other day, and observing a hummingbird going from blossom to blossom on the beautiful purple blooms of one of my native sages. I chose to plant natives because they attract hummingbirds and Monarch butterflies. I remarked to her that I used to keep a hummingbird feeder hanging out back, and had actually left the feeder hanging for the first year the natives were in, but the hummers were no longer interested in the pseudo-nectar, since they now had something better-- the real thing. Hmmmmmm, sounds very familiar doesn't it?

  We stick our greedy little beaks in that alcohol and suck it up, as if there's nothing better for us, nothing tastier. Just like that little hummingbird, we keep buzzing and spinning, drinking that make-believe nectar, until one day we discover something else that looks tempting and yummy, so we try it and SHAZAM....We love it! That's what AA did for me. I didn't even realize I was drinking fraudulent nectar, I thought that's all there was available to me until I got a taste of sobriety. Now I don't ever want to go back to that imitation, store-bought, deceptive, feeder. Ever. That's for the birds!

  On second thought.....even the birds don't want it! Now that I've ingested genuine, life-giving, life-enhancing go-go juice from Heaven, I gag at the thought of what I used to imbibe. Ah, good, soul-quenching sobriety----it's the Real Thing, Baby!


May 14, 2005

"Remember, the mightiest oak was once just a little nut that held its ground." (Keep Coming Back)

"The 12 Steps are like an all-purpose wrench. They'll fit any nut that walks in the door." (Keep Coming Back)

"Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." (BB, page 59)
  Hmmmm, there's definitely a theme going on here, but it's the truth. We are insane, or at least behaving like we are when we drink. After all, who in their RIGHT mind would pick that drink up, knowing someone might die if they do, maybe even themselves? Or worse yet their own children? Who would get that bottle down if it meant they might end up in jail that night? What sane woman would pour that first glass of whiskey knowing she might commit adultery if she did? All of these things are possible----we KNOW they are. We've heard the stories of shame and disgrace. We've cried over the tragedies we've heard about in the rooms of AA; some of them have been our own.

   I'll never forget the member of a well-known singing group writing a response to a letter I had posted on his website while drunk one day. I was self-righteous, mean, and nasty as I berated his wife for her poor spelling. He wrote back asking me "What are you....some kind of a nut???!!!! " He then instructed me to NEVER write to them again.

  Well, I had amends to make to Mr. and Mrs. John Doe when I got to Step 9. I wanted to say in my letter, "Yes sir, I WAS a nut, but I'm better now."  I don't remember exactly how I worded it, but I did apologize.....profoundly.
Today I am grateful I didn't end up in a padded cell.

May 15, 2005

Overheard at a meeting: "Sitting in an AA meeting doesn't make you a member any more than sitting in a chicken coop makes you a chicken."

  Now, I'm not one to "engage in controversy" but I'm about to get on my soapbox here, so feel free to disagree. Feedback is always welcome on the Muses. Sure, you can show up at meetings and kill time. You can come for coffee and cookies, or to catch up on gossip. You can even come in 3 or 4 times a week to take a newcomer chip and nobody can stop you, but the real members of AA are the ones who become an integral, active, productive part of the program, practicing the principles and leading by example---the "walkers," not the "talkers."

   They care about their fellow alcoholic, but they also follow the guidelines laid out in the Big Book. They don't "chase" a prospect who isn't ready, wasting time and energy that should be channeled elsewhere. (page 96, BB) They give back what they were given to those who are willing to work. Then, there are the 'takers' on the flip side of that equation, the "chickens," if you will; the ones who come and sit in the chicken coop, hoping it will turn them into a chicken even though they have no Foghorn Leghorns or Rhode Island Reds in their gene pool.. .....people who come into meeting only to receive, but never to give. They hope to get the program through osmosis, I suppose. Either that, or they just come in to cluck about their problems or lay an egg. They are the poor me's---perhaps the victims of 'fowl' play. (argh....i couldn't resist) Bottom line is, they're in the wrong barnyard if they think this thing is labor and commitment-free. It's simple, but it ain't easy. And it doesn't come in a pretty, wrapped package addressed to you, no work required. You may have to peck and scratch and eat some bugs and worms to get it, but it's worth it!

Sobriety is something worth crowing about.

May 16, 2005

"Never play leapfrog with a unicorn!" (Keep Coming Back)
  OUCH! That sounds painful, but it's appropriate advice for this program. If you are an alcoholic, nothing good can come of drinking; nothing. It's akin to playing Russian roulette or leapfrog with a unicorn.....you're going to end up with a new hole in your body somewhere.
 
  I was invited to family night at Capistrano by a sponsee a year or so back and the counselor there, Mary, is known for playing Jenga on those nights. Everyone takes turns pulling a block of wood from the tower until it comes crashing down. She then draws this parallel between drinking or using, with the Jenga game: "Every time we drink or use we lose a piece of ourselves. We keep losing pieces until we become so unstable, we crash; the world comes tumbling down. Just like the game, we can put our lives and the pieces of ourselves back together; one Step, and one day at a time. We can become whole and stable again."

  One thing we need to remember however (this is the Muse talking now), is the "fatal nature" of this disease. Our only real guarantee that we won't die the next time we drink, is to NOT take that drink in the first place. Voila! There IS a solution.
Today I am grateful I don't have to put new holes in myself.

May 17, 2005

  "Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise. Proverbs 20:1

  And just think, that admonition was directed at normies. What in Heaven's name would God say to us? All kidding aside, the key word in that verse is deceived. Alcohol is deceptive. It weaves that magic web of lies and we get stuck in the web. Then it wraps us up tight like a Black Widow spider who just trapped a juicy bug and sucks the life right out of us.

  It is in AA that we become wise to the chicanery and discover ways to avoid being tricked and trapped. It's called a "spiritual tool kit" and it works miracles. You never have to find yourself staring into the eyes of that predator again. One of the things you have to do to avoid being prey, is pray to a Being.

Today I'm grateful for what is received when I'm not deceived.

May 18, 2005

  Boy! I had a double whammy last night of Angry and Tired. Good thing Hungry and Lonely weren't thrown in there...I might have been falling off a barstool somewhere. Here's the scoop: I gave up cigarettes on Friday the 13th and have had a lot of insomnia as a result. Last night, I was so exhausted, I collapsed in the bed at 9 o'clock and went into a wonderful, glorious, restful slumber. At 11, two hours into my blessed nite-nite, my husband woke me up.

  I was enraged. However, my rage came out in the form of tears. I cried uncontrollably and told him he was mean and cruel. I wanted to scream and beat him, but I was too darn tired. Then, I could NOT go back to sleep. At 3 AM, I  jiggled him awake and said with as much venom as I could muster, "I just wanted you to know that I have not gone back to sleep since you woke me up earlier."

  Mercy....I don't even know where I'm going with this Muse, other than to say that my first conscious thought upon being rudely awakened and was " I could use a shot of whiskey and a cigarette." THAT is what happens if you get too hungry, angry, lonely, or tired......you can't think straight. Your mind is befuddled and discombobulated. I was surprised at myself when I thought of whiskey in the middle of the night.

    Of course, I immediately realized when my mind cleared and I had my mental faculties revived, that I was STILL and alcoholic and whiskey was NOT an option.. It was kind of scary though. This disease is patient, progressive, and ready to pounce when it catches us in a moment of physical, emotional, or spiritual weakness.
We must remain ever-vigilant and take good care of our minds, bodies, and spirits, so that when alcohol comes knocking on our thoughts, we can slam the door on it and hang a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the knob.


May 19, 2005

"After all, our problems were of our own making. Bottles were only a symbol. Besides, we have stopped fighting anybody or anything. We have to!" (BB p. 103)

  I grew up fast and rebellious. I had a chip on my shoulder that I double-dared you to knock off. I was belligerent and defiant, verbally and physically confrontational, and always in trouble. I carried that anger into adulthood and alcoholism. Drinking was a perfect companion for my inner rage. It was a gateway for unleashing the monsters within.

  Outwardly, I appeared self-confident and tough. I wouldn't let my kids cry about their owies when they were young. I admonished them to "be tough" as well. I thought I was setting a good example for them. All I did was teach them to stuff their feelings rather than cry around me. Bless their hearts. My daughter was in therapy 10 years before I came to AA, but didn't tell me because she was afraid I would call her a weakling.

  Inside me was a fearful coward. I was afraid to live life without booze; afraid to face up to, and take responsibility for, my sins and defects; afraid to look deep for truths that I wouldn't like. I was afraid to live, so I drank to die.  "Suicide on the installment plan" is what I heard in a meeting early in my sobriety. That was a huge wake-up call for me. Today I choose to live. I have found a harmonious balance between tough and wimpy. I acknowledge my fears, pains, and sorrows, but I don't consider it a weakness. I believe it makes me stronger.

   I can soothe my daughter when she cries and we both grow from her tears. She can even bring painful memories of childhood owies to me and I can acknowledge them and apologize.
I'm grateful there is no statute of limitations on kissing boo-boos.

May 20, 2005

  Good Morning Beautiful Women!

  I went to bed at 11 last night and slept til 5:30 this morning. Unbroken, glorious sleep! Wow!

   I felt so refreshed and alive when I awoke. Hopefully, that insomnia has gone bye-bye. I was flipping through my desk calendar and came across this: "When someone is mean, critical, judgmental, irritable, or grouchy, it probably has nothing to do with you and you didn't cause it, you can't control it, and you can't cure it." Sounds familiar---I think I heard someone from Al-Anon say that once.

  It's true; we have no control over someone else's behavior or words. Often, when someone is unhappy, they have the need to tear someone else down so that they can feel better about themselves. Those who criticize and complain constantly may have self-doubts, resentments, envy, or any number of things troubling them. To retaliate with more of the same is destructive and counterproductive to both parties. I have a family member who is a chronic complainer. She spreads doom, gloom, and negativity where ever she goes. Consequently, she has driven all her family and friends away, even her own children. She is virtually alone. She condemned herself to a lonely prison by spreading her misery to others. I pity her, pray for her, and love her, but like the rest of the family, I have had to emotionally detach from her for my own physical, mental, and spiritual well-being.

   What she does now will determine the course of her remaining years. She can unlock her cell door by changing her behavior and live a happy, contented life, or she can stay in bondage and continue to blame everyone else for her unhappiness. The keys that unlock that door are honesty, humility, and acceptance. I am so grateful today for my network of love and support. I thank all of you who called or wrote me yesterday. It warms the cockles of my heart to know I am loved and missed. You honor me with your honesty, sincerity, and support.

May 21, 2005

   Another day of sobriety yesterday and another day of life today; another opportunity to right the wrongs of my past. I carry a mental balance sheet with me and love to cross out a wrong and put a gold star in the " right" column. For me, my life is a daily reckoning; a settling of accounts past due. There is an old hymn we sing at church called The Old Account, and there's a line that goes, "and the record's clear today, for He washed my sins away, and the old account was settled long ago." You see, I know I am forgiven of my transgressions in God's eyes, but I still feel that need to "settle my accounts." It's an integral part of my healing and growing process. I suppose someone much wiser than me may have called it "clearing away the wreckage of my past."

   It won't be a job I can put a closing date on. It will be an ongoing venture, because realistically speaking, I know I will add more into my 'wrong' column. I'm human and I will never be perfect. That's where "progress not perfection" comes in. Thank Goodness for that! Webster's defines progress as "forward movement or a gradual betterment."
Lord, I pray you keep me moving forward today.

May 22, 2005

" We have been speaking to you of serious, sometimes tragic things. We have been dealing with alcohol in its worst aspect. But we aren't a glum lot. If newcomers could see no joy or fun in our existence, they wouldn't want it. We absolutely insist on enjoying life." (BB page 132)

  I know I've used all or part of that passage before, but I refer to it often in my Big Book reading. Speaking for myself, I know I wouldn't have gone to a second AA meeting had I not witnessed the joy of sobriety at my first. They were most definitely not a glum lot. I can honestly say that my program and life are more enriched by the meetings that offer more recovery than disease. Laughter, hope, and lightheartedness are infectious at AA meetings. As a newcomer, I was drawn to the "happy" alcoholics. I wanted to drink up their joy juice. My existence before sobriety was a gloomy, miserable one, so I found the cheerfulness tremendously appealing. Now, almost 4 years into the program, I have surrounded myself with as many optimistic women as I can. My network of love and support consists of vibrant, vivacious, laughing, loving, caring women. They are my safety net, my social companions, my soul food, and my sobriety lifeline. They are my teachers, mentors, and friends.
Today I am grateful for friends that make me laugh til my stomach hurts.

May 23, 2005

"Once and alcoholic, always and alcoholic." (Big Book, page 33)

  It's true--we will always be alcoholics. However, that need not be stigmatizing. You don't have to 'say it loud and say it proud' but you don't have to be ashamed either. We are not a disgrace to society. We don't have to wear a scarlet 'A' upon our foreheads. I am no longer burdened and heavy laden with guilt and shame. I am free from a past that kept me in entombed in darkness. I have emerged from that cocoon and found that I have wings.

  Saying those words for the very first time; "I am an alcoholic," were painful. I choked on them. I wanted to quickly swallow them back down before they made it past my lips. But admitting it finally, after so many years and tears was tremendously liberating. I am an alcoholic. I will be an alcoholic until I draw my last breath. I am a grateful alcoholic.

May 24, 2005

  Trust and fear cannot cohabitate the same mind, nor can irrationality and reason. They battle each other and one will emerge victorious. I left my morning meeting on a natural high, as I usually do, and headed to pay some bills. I turned on my cell phone to listen to my messages and was jolted by what I heard. It was a creepy male voice saying " I'm going to kill you bitch, you can't trace this call---I'm going to gut you like a fish."

   My common sense, or my "reason" gene was telling me it must have been a wrong number. My "fear" gene was saying " Oh my God....some crazy lunatic wants you dead!" and fear won the battle. My heart began to race, my hands were shaking visibly, and I pulled into the 1st store I saw and sat there shaking. Then, I went inside and bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked two, back to back. Still trembling and with my heart now pounding and racing even more from the nicotine my body had gotten used to NOT having, I called my co-sponsor Claudia. I knew she had gone to the noon meeting and her phone would be on til the meeting started.

   She suggested I come back to the meeting, which I did. By the time the meeting ended, I was calmer and my rationality was returning. I was amazed at how quickly my serenity was shattered when I heard that message; how easily fear canceled out trust; irrationality canceled out reason; and how vulnerable we are at any given moment to those old feelings. False Evidence Appearing Real.....that's all it was, but it threw me for a loop. Thank God I have AA, and the women who are always and forever at the other end of that telephone line. I would be doomed without them.

Thank you Miz C....I'm especially grateful for you today.

May 25, 2005

    "Some years ago Bishop Fulton Sheen was scheduled to speak at the Town Hall in an unfamiliar city. He decided to walk and on the way got lost. He saw some boys so asked them the way to City Hall.

''What are you going to do there?' asked one of the boys.
'I’m going to give a lecture,' replied the bishop.
  'About what?'
'On how to get to heaven. Would you care to come along?'
'Are you kidding?' said the boy, 'You don’t even know how to get to Town Hall!' "
(online daily devotional)

  I thought that was cute-- and perfect for setting up today's Muse. You know, I had no idea where I was going when I came to AA, or how I was going to get there. I only knew I had lost my way and had to ask for help. I had to trust and follow those pioneers who had paved the way for me; the ones who knew the directions. My way was rough and rocky and I was heading in the wrong direction. I was bleeding from all the falls and stumbles, inside and out. I had to find a new path; a smoother, sober path.

  That path is laid out for me in a priceless Blue Book---every right and left, every do and don't. There are signs for everything; caution, yield, stop, slow, speed bumps--you name it. There are red lights and green lights. There are speed limits. It is a map to Utopia and I'm on my way. Would you like to car pool with me?

May 26, 2005

When I was a young child, maybe 5 through 7 years old, I used to have these terrifying nightmares. They would occur just as I was dropping off to sleep, while I still hovered just below the threshold of consciousness. In my mind, I could see a small blob-like shape and it would pulse and grow bigger and bigger until I became utterly terrified. It felt menacing, as though it would do me harm, maybe even kill me if it got big enough. I would bolt upright in my bed, trembling and sobbing.

   When they first began, my parents were still married and I would cry out "Daddy!" and he would come and hold me. After they divorced, I just suffered them alone, not wanting to call my mom for fear she would yell at me. I wonder if that was some kind of premonition of my life to come. My alcoholism grew and pulsed with a life of its own for years. It wanted to kill me, I know that. It still does. It got bigger and more threatening every year I drank.

   It was like a meteorite that starts out as a speck of dust, then travels the galaxy, collecting more matter and dirt along the way. My disease gathered guilt, shame, anger, and resentments to add to its growth. It picked up lots of self-loathing and fear on its journey, making it even bigger. By the time I came to AA, I was ready to crash and leave nothing but an empty crater behind.

Today I am grateful I didn't burn up before my orbit changed.

May 27, 2005

Yesterday our meeting topic was denial. It was a wonderful meeting, full of experience, strength, and hope on our individual denial stories. This morning, the subject came to mind again as I noticed one of my cats behaving as though she didn't feel well. She has been lethargic off and on for the past week--sleeping a lot, picking at her food, and the biggest give-away.....not hissing at the other cats.

  I am waiting from a call from the vet as I write this, hoping to get her in today. Seeing her made a painful memory surface of an old yellow cat I had from 1990 until a month into my sobriety. He was a big boy, almost 19 pounds, and as my drinking career was taking me into that state of "pitiful, incomprehensible, demoralization," my "Puddin" was dying and I was too drunk to notice. I have painful recollections of seeing him lying around in the flower beds; of finding his wet food dried up in the bowl most days; of his lack of interest in hunting, and so many other obvious signs, but I mentally denied he was ill because that would interfere with my drinking. Lord have mercy....it is SO painful to write that now.

  As soon as I sobered up in September of 2001, I took a good, long look at my beloved pet. It was shocking and sad to see how much weight he'd lost. I took him to several Vets, but they couldn't determine the cause of his problem. At his first visit in mid-October, he weighed 12.5 pounds. A few weeks later, he was down to 9.5 and the Vet convinced me to let him go. He was euthanized that day. I brought him home and buried him in the flower bed he so loved to lie in.

Today I am grateful I can see what is happening around me.

May 28, 2005

The 12 and 12 tells us in Step Seven that "without some degree of humility, no alcoholic can stay sober at all." It further states that "unless [we] develop much more of this precious quality than may be required just for sobriety, [we] still haven't much chance of becoming truly happy. Without it, [we] cannot live to much useful purpose, or, in adversity, be able to summon the faith that can meet any emergency"

  My dictionary lists meek and modest as synonyms of humble. I like those better than another one listed: insignificant. I feel like I am significant now, like I do have a purpose in this life. However, I know I must strive to attain as much humility as I can. My interpretation of the aforementioned excerpt is that my happiness is the end result of my humility, and the more humble I am, the happier I will be. One of the tallest orders I faced when I came to AA was downsizing my ego; my sense of self. I had to "come to believe" that I was not the most important person in the universe and no, the world really didn't revolve around me. Surprise, surprise! And I thought it did all those many many years!

   The phrase "egomaniac with an inferiority complex" described me perfectly. I was nobody on the inside and The Great and Powerful Nan on the outside. (pay no attention to that drunk behind the curtain)

I'm grateful today that I know I'm a mere pixel in the Big Picture of Life.

May 29, 2005

  Boy, this recent crisis with my cat Scooter has dredged up some pet memories, most of them unpleasant. I went to bed last night and suddenly recalled a family pet named Bowser, a little black and white terrier mix we had when we first moved onto our property here. The neighbor's pit bull got loose, came into our yard and attacked poor Bowser, severely damaging one of his legs. I was drunk and charged down to their trailer and beat on their door with a hoe. They had retrieved the dog and had him inside. If they had opened that door, I would most likely be in jail now for chopping the dog and the couple who owned him into a gazillion pieces.

  When I realized they weren't going to deal with a hoe-wielding, crazy, drunk woman, I came back and got Bowser to the Vet. He had the leg amputated and I was drunk when I picked him up several days later to bring him home. I burst into drunken sobbing when I saw him and the staff couldn't wait to get rid of me. They even offered to call someone to come and get me. I'm certain they knew I was drunk....I probably reeked of booze and just my breath must have given them a buzz. To add to my shame and guilt, I stopped at the mailboxes down the road to give my daughter a ride home---the school bus had just dropped her off---and I almost ran over her when I put the car in reverse as she walked behind it....God only knows why I did that. She got in hoppin' mad and I blamed it on my grief---pointing to my pitiful, 3-legged dog as I cried and told her I was sorry. She was about 13 at the time and her disgust with me was extremely obvious.

"We will not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it." I am grateful I can handle those painful memories now, and that the Big Book instructs me to let my regret go, but always remember where my drinking took me, so that I won't return to that insanity. I am blessed too, that those memories come in bits and pieces, dribs and drabs. That must be God's mercy. All of them at once would surely be more than I could bear.

May 30, 2005

  It's the Twelve Steps, not the Twelve Standstills." (Keep Coming Back)
Don't you just love that one? We can't just do the Steps and be finished. We have to keep taking them, every day. We must keep climbing, onward and upward....Tally Ho!  We also must be careful not to take two steps forward and one step back. The first year I was sober, it sometimes seemed like I was creating wreckage as fast as I was clearing it. I was talking that talk, but taking a step backward every time I practiced those old behaviors, like screaming, cussing, and wallowing in self pity. There is something to be said for "faking it til you make it" though because I guess that's what I did.

   After a series of emotional hangovers, I think I finally "got it." I still take those Steps, and by golly, I take them seriously! They have brought me up and out of a dark and very scary place. Descending back into that world away from "the Sunlight of the Spirit" is too frightening to contemplate.

Today I'm grateful to be afraid of the dark.


May 31, 2005

Hello Beautiful Women! Good meeting this morning!
Thank you to everyone who shared and to those who couldn't make it--you were missed. We had some sharing on resentment of normal drinkers and that brought back some memories for me. Lots of heads nodded on that one. I am going to go out on a limb here and say that is a common resentment among us, at least when we are new. I was 6 months sober, sitting next to my husband in Vegas as he sipped a Bailey's and coffee and thinking how utterly rude and inconsiderate it was of him to order that yummy smelling drink and YES! I was resentful.

   Of course, I made myself remember how rude and inconsiderate my drinking was to everyone exposed to it, so I was able to Let It Go. I think when we first get sober, we go into sensory overload. It seems that every emotion and feeling is amplified a hundredfold. We have numbed ourselves for so long, and used alcohol to cope, function, and survive, that we are like cats in a room full of rocking chairs; nervous, restless, and afraid. The teeniest annoyance feels like a major catastrophe  But sobriety is real; our emotions and thoughts are real. We lead genuine lives instead of ones distorted by alcohol. It's tough, but mercy sakes----it can't be any tougher than driving that porcelain bus or coming to with a hellacious hangover, or putting our fists through a wall or someone's face. It sure isn't tougher than pacing a jail cell or alienating your entire family from you. Give me the sober truth any day! Give me a real, sober life! Give me liberty or give me death! Ooops....I got carried away! Ah....sobriety. Ain't it grand?