I work for a moron.

Really, I do. I know that sounds like such an alcoholic holier-than-thou statement, but it's just true.  The man has  no ability to make clear decisions, never remembers the directions he gave, completely lacks relationship building skills, and thrives - positively thrives - on conflict, contentiousness, and crisis. I have never seen a single idea of his work.  At all.  Not one.   And quite a few of us suffer the fallout.

I started this job 3 1/2 years ago... which was exactly the same time I got sober.   Reader, this is my sober job.  My god, the job description really should have said "If you are in recovery - from anything at all - please DO NOT apply for this job as it will alternately bore you to tears and inflict extraordinary anxiety".  (Okay, I sound super dramatic but hey, I'm an alcoholic.  It's so part of my composition).   So what on god's green earth am I still doing there?  Answer: Sober Fear.  As I said today in a meeting, I managed to regularly change jobs - even industries - with great ease, move to new apartments, travel to new countries, and all kinds of other "oh-how-i-love-change" actions.  But in sobriety, I swear you would see claw marks along the floor of my home if you ever, ever tried to get me to move.  I always loved to travel, but in sobriety I've passed up trips with my husband's work-life to Japan (twice), Thailand (twice), South Africa, and Abu Dhabi (twice).  Yes, we have a little boy so travelling so far would have been a challenge (whether we took him or not) but I can't use that as an excuse.  My sobriety is so much about creating a sense of safety that I just won't come out of my shell - even when it's uncomfortable and I really need to.

I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I am NOT meant to be in this job.  It is so detached from my skills, values, abilities, beliefs that some days I am just saturated with "how did I end up here?" ruminations.  But I know how I got there. I made a decision to leave my old job (which I had outgrown but I loved so deeply) because I needed to get sober.  I took this job because it looked so removed from human emotion and develeopment that I thought it would be a calm, quiet retreat from my "real" career path and I could just focus on sobriety.  I need to take a step back and realize that no matter how damaging this job has been, it really did enable me to focus on sobriety.  The locations alone have been incredible - BOTH locations happen to be down the block from an AA meeting that occur every single day at lunchtime.  I don't know if I would be as sober as I am without that beautiful opportunity.  It has given me flexibility and freedom in many ways. Most importantly, it has given me a very generous salary and benefits that have enabled me to support my family, as my husband's business of 25 years went under financially three years ago.  (The fact that I am the breadwinner is so astonishing to me, but more on that another time).

But despite these benefits, it is not a real livlihood. There is nothing valuable, nothing meaningful coming out of my efforts.  I - along with my colleagues - do not get to use any of my talents or develop in any way.  So, it is time to move on but without the foggy, disorganized, carefree, gypsy-like lens of my "oh I'll just pack up and go" alcoholism, I don't know how to make a clear decision. I don't know how to summon up courage without being three sheets to the wind.  And I always thought I was so adventerous - HA!  Silly me.   This is SCAREY and I hope I can pull myself together, see opportunitites with clear eyes, and make a good decision.

Thanks for reading my super-rambling rant!  ~ Lulu

A friend's struggle with alcohol

I have a good friend... no, let me rephrase that... I have a friend who is so close to my heart he is like a brother to me, he is family, he is blood, and he is going through that special hell of knowing he is an alcoholic but unable to stop drinking.  Though we grew up together here in new york city, he now lives in london so I am only able to help him through email, texting, and hopefully this blog. 

I never get over how uncanny it is that alcoholics understand each other in a way that non-alcoholics (bless their lucky souls... and genes!) never can.  I am sure he thinks he's completely crazy sometimes, with how difficult this is, how unreal it is to wake up and realize you truly have no control over your drinking and it's ravaging so much, so quickly, but I understand every single word he writes.  Just like I understand all of you.  Just today, I was having an absolutely awful work day.  Thankfully, I resisted my ever-present desire to avoid a meeting and I went to one.  Listened for an hour and slowly, so slowly but steadily, I heard more and more comments that resonated, that made me feel less alone, that reminded me I do not have normal coping mechanisms, I do not have normal decision making mechanisms, I am an alcoholic and have the right to take a time out and go easy on myself.  I don't know about you, but I just love the slogans ~ take it easy, easy does it, one day at a time ~ gemstones in my pocket that I can just twirl between my fingers when I need them (which is more often than not).

Unfortunately for my friend, meetings in his neighborhood don't seem to be as available as here in meeting-on-every-block new york.  But I know they must be elsewhere in london.  And there are blogs, on-line meetings, all kinds of web recordings, web magazines and resources ~ what wonders technology has done for the recovery community!  So, I will do my best to help my friend and I have all the faith in the world that he will get better and soon know the relief and the peace that sobriety can bring. 

Wishing you all a peaceful evening...  Lulu

Sober Accomplishments!

Today, I received the following email, "Hi.  You have qualified for the ING New York City 2012 Marathon. Congratulations." I'm trying to put my feelings into words (i know, it's a blog, words are helpful) but I'm just so... awed.  This is a totally new kind of happiness ~ centered, calm, reflective.  I am quietly yet very deeply happy.

Now, I actually ran my first marathon six weeks ago so my awe, my pride (which is a totally new emotion, thankyouverymuch), and my happiness is blossoming not from the anticipation of completing my next marathon but from the incredible hard work I put into qualifying for this.  I had to run 9 nyc races this year with one additional volunteer race, along with training for my brooklyn marathon.  Given the fact that I work full-time, have a five year old son, and manage a zillion of the usual adult responsibilities (all while grappling with thrid year sobrity without a sponsor or home group or steps - all of which I now thankfully have) I managed to train for a marathon this year, run it (really well!), and qualify for nyc marathon next year.  Who am I?!

Despite the outward appearance of success, I honestly feel like this is the first time I have ever worked at something diligently enough to accomplish a goal.  Up to this moment, everything else feels more like it was random luck or good fortune.  My alcoholism was of the romantic, flighty, oh-look-at-this-next-cool-thing-I-will-soon-abandon nature.  I worked so hard to make everything have the sheen of success, but it was really just image.  Just illusion.  My passion  for wine fed a life of dreams I could never come close to attaining.    But now... my god.  This really is a whole new way of living.

Sobreity is amazing.  Only in sobriety could this have happened for me.  ONLY in sobriety.  Wishing you all a blissful, sober evening...

Beating addiction should be celebratory, right?!

I just read the most amazing post on a very popular blog in which the writer "comes out" about her battle with depression.  Her honesty and courage is just amazing, especially as her blog is not focused upon recovery but is geared towards "regular" followers who are simply public fans. 

She compares battling depression to battles with cancer and related diseases.  While personal triumphs over the latter conditions is cause for fantabulous celebration, the former does not elicit the same kind of pat-on-the-back response.  More often, it is misunderstood and creates an atmosphere of shame and embarrassment than pride and joy.  Why is this?  Mood disorders, mental illnesses, and addictions are miswirings of the brain and related physiological systems.  Why can we share diagnosis and triumph over diabetes but not alcohlism?  Heart disease but not bipolar disorder?  High blood pressure but not drug abuse? 

As a long distance runner, I think about this a lot because I see hundreds of runners donning t-shirts for every cause imaginable.  Zillions of dollars and priceless awarness is raised via running advertisements for leukemia, asthma, autism, etc.  Just imagine for a moment seeing me running by (you'd have to keep your eyes open, though, as I am uber-fast!) and seeing me in a tee that proudly claimed "Running for Recovery:  AA saves lives".  Omg, how great would that be?!  Well, great for us but not great for the wildly awkward feelings and responses from other runners and bystanders. 

Stigma.  Terrible, I know, and the only way to defeat it is to obviously "come out".  But oops ~ there's that whole anonymous issue.  I have to say, I have not felt kindly towards the anoymous tradition.  I will respect it for others, of course, from the bottom of my soul but I am very doubtful it is doing us much good in the long run.  It maintains a stigma.  Does anyone remember when the words "breast cancer" were mostly whispered?  And have those same people ever witnessed the unbelievable crowds of the Walk for the Cure?  Amazing, how much has been  accomplished by coming out.  Remove stigma - check.  Raise money and resources for treatments  - check.  Create early detection and prevention programs - check. Save and improve lives beyond measure - check.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if someday the same could happen for our disease?  Check out the inspirational blogger here: http://thebloggess.com/2012/01/the-fight-goes-on/

Hope you all are having a blissful and sober new year!