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
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
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
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
Saturday, January 7, 2012
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...
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...
Monday, January 2, 2012
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!
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!
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
2012 - Getting Sober on the Inside
I have been avoiding getting sober on the inside. I have been avoiding the transformation that I know, I just know, it entails. In my three years of not drinking, I’ve learned so much about the depth and range of my alcoholism but it’s only in the last few months that I’ve begun to catch glimpses of just how deeply I can change, my life can change, once I dive deeper into sober living beyond just not drinking.
Now that I’ve been connecting slightly more regularly with a particular group, now that I’ve actually committed to a sponsor, I feel like I’m on the precipice of a change as big as the one I made when I put down my wine. I can see why I’ve avoided this. It’s scary! I know I will discover honesty, which will enable me to identify and articulate some pretty major illusions about my life that were fueled by alcoholism. I still wear alcoholic lenses and I am about to take them off. It’s time. It’s just time to do so. And I know what this will entail. Honesty about my career. Honesty about my marriage. I adore my husband and I have a good career but I now have the perspective and courage to articulate, even if just to myself, all of the issues I glossed over when I built this life in my wine-drenched days. Forever I have always buried my own needs, desires, interests in order to please others (raise your hand if you are also the daughter of an alcoholic!). And my career? Wow. I am evolving so much just via not drinking (“re-covering” my true self?) that I feel like I’m almost a bystander, watching in fascination as new (or just buried?) interests and talents emerge.
My alcoholism functioned in two powerful ways ~ it buried things for me to avoid or it colored things so I could romanticize them. That’s my alcoholic life in a nutshell: Avoidance and Romanticism. My degrees, my career, my friendships, my relationships, my interests. Who am I without my alcoholic lens? What will my life look like? Ah, what a journey 2012 will be…
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Sober Holidays - Argh!!!
Omg, I had not idea the holidays were so stressful! Why has no one ever told me about this?
I always thought Christmas was the most blissful and amazing time of year ~ full of sparkly lights and glittery presents and stylish clothes. I couldn't believe it whenever I heard anyone complain. What a bunch of grinches, I thought. I was having a great time, thankyouverymuch, because it was "the most wonderful time of year" and... oh wait... because I was drinking lots and lots of wine. Ha! Right, it was wonderful because I was rocking a buzz all day, every day. Oh god.
After three years of sobriety (and three years of uber-stressful holidays. Coincidence? I think not.) I just realized that I never felt holiday anxiety because I was ALWAYS DRINKING!!! Why didn't any one warn me about the whole overwelming-sober-holiday experience? Wow. Quite a trip. Still, like many other aspects of my life, it's such a relief to realize that it's not just me. That I'm not crazy or incapeable or alone ~ this is part of getting sober. This is what it feels like to... well, to feel things. And I just need to let it wash over me - the stress, guilt, doubt, whatever - and find new tools to confront it all without falling apart. Oh, thank god for meetings. Thank god for a community of recovering alcoholics. And thank god I'm giving myself permission to NOT be an uber-chipper-holiday-cheerleader anymore. I'm allowed to have a mini-meltdown in whole foods, leave my overpriced organic groceries in line, and hop on the subway for home. (That was actually pretty liberating - I highly recommend it). I'm allowed to slightly fall apart when I haven't pulled together a gift for my amazingly tolerant and supportive husband (I'm getting there on this one). I'm also allowed to take sick days from work when desperately need some quiet down-time (three cheers for working in the flexible world of higher education).
Okay, that's all for now. If anyone has tips for getting through the holidays with some kind of calm joy, please share! Have a great night, all...
I always thought Christmas was the most blissful and amazing time of year ~ full of sparkly lights and glittery presents and stylish clothes. I couldn't believe it whenever I heard anyone complain. What a bunch of grinches, I thought. I was having a great time, thankyouverymuch, because it was "the most wonderful time of year" and... oh wait... because I was drinking lots and lots of wine. Ha! Right, it was wonderful because I was rocking a buzz all day, every day. Oh god.
After three years of sobriety (and three years of uber-stressful holidays. Coincidence? I think not.) I just realized that I never felt holiday anxiety because I was ALWAYS DRINKING!!! Why didn't any one warn me about the whole overwelming-sober-holiday experience? Wow. Quite a trip. Still, like many other aspects of my life, it's such a relief to realize that it's not just me. That I'm not crazy or incapeable or alone ~ this is part of getting sober. This is what it feels like to... well, to feel things. And I just need to let it wash over me - the stress, guilt, doubt, whatever - and find new tools to confront it all without falling apart. Oh, thank god for meetings. Thank god for a community of recovering alcoholics. And thank god I'm giving myself permission to NOT be an uber-chipper-holiday-cheerleader anymore. I'm allowed to have a mini-meltdown in whole foods, leave my overpriced organic groceries in line, and hop on the subway for home. (That was actually pretty liberating - I highly recommend it). I'm allowed to slightly fall apart when I haven't pulled together a gift for my amazingly tolerant and supportive husband (I'm getting there on this one). I'm also allowed to take sick days from work when desperately need some quiet down-time (three cheers for working in the flexible world of higher education).
Okay, that's all for now. If anyone has tips for getting through the holidays with some kind of calm joy, please share! Have a great night, all...
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Lousy Sober Moments
What could be more appropriate than following my "Blissful Sober Moments", posted ages ago, with "Lousy Sober Moments"? Isn't that totally the nature of recovery? That wondeful rush of "Omg I am really getting my act together!" to "Okay now ~ time to stick my head in the oven!"
Don't worry, I'm not really near the head-in-the-oven scenario (especially since I'm having a great hair day) but I am having one of my I-Am-Overwhelmed days. I read something recently about how it's so challanging for recovering alcoholics to learn normal functioning because we "feel so much". I don't know about you, but this rings totally true for me. I have always been aware of my emotional depths and extremes as being a bit beyond the emotional realm of those around me. This used to make me feel superior, of course. "Look at me ~ I am so alive! I FEEL so much!" while I judged everyone with a calm, even temperment and drama-free life as a total bore. Spiritually dead. Creatively numb. An idiot, I was. Now I wish I could just remove about half of my emotional capactiy and mail it off to someone who needs it.
I just wish I weren't so reactive with any kind of emotional extreme. Overjoyed, furious, blissed-out, devestated. This is exhausting! Why can't I just be happy, perturbed, calm, sad? Perhaps I will always retain my emotional extremes but will get better at managing them? After three years of sobriety via just going to meetings and having NO sponsor and NO step work, I am very much aware that I inhabit the dreaded world of dry-drunks. I see so so so so clearly that alcoholism is a disease of thinking, of perception, of behavior and that it remains (and gets worse) even after putting down the glass (I mean bottle/s) of wine. I see that AA is treatment not just for the craving and addiction to alcohol (so evil, it is) but for the actual disease itself which I believe pre-exists the drink. This disposition is what lead me to drink. It's facinating, the combination of physical dependance and mental... oh, I'll just say it... mental illness. That's what I believe it is.
Okay, so the good news is I did get a sponsor two days ago. This time, I am willing. Whatever she wants me to do/write/say/think, I'm going to follow along. With 28 years of sobriety ~ and a super-wonderful disposition ~ I think I'm safe in suspecting she knows things I could benefit from.
Exhausting, this is. Exhausted, I am. Off to turn down my emotional volume with silly tv and a nap on the couch. Hope you are all having a healthy, calm, sober night...
Don't worry, I'm not really near the head-in-the-oven scenario (especially since I'm having a great hair day) but I am having one of my I-Am-Overwhelmed days. I read something recently about how it's so challanging for recovering alcoholics to learn normal functioning because we "feel so much". I don't know about you, but this rings totally true for me. I have always been aware of my emotional depths and extremes as being a bit beyond the emotional realm of those around me. This used to make me feel superior, of course. "Look at me ~ I am so alive! I FEEL so much!" while I judged everyone with a calm, even temperment and drama-free life as a total bore. Spiritually dead. Creatively numb. An idiot, I was. Now I wish I could just remove about half of my emotional capactiy and mail it off to someone who needs it.
I just wish I weren't so reactive with any kind of emotional extreme. Overjoyed, furious, blissed-out, devestated. This is exhausting! Why can't I just be happy, perturbed, calm, sad? Perhaps I will always retain my emotional extremes but will get better at managing them? After three years of sobriety via just going to meetings and having NO sponsor and NO step work, I am very much aware that I inhabit the dreaded world of dry-drunks. I see so so so so clearly that alcoholism is a disease of thinking, of perception, of behavior and that it remains (and gets worse) even after putting down the glass (I mean bottle/s) of wine. I see that AA is treatment not just for the craving and addiction to alcohol (so evil, it is) but for the actual disease itself which I believe pre-exists the drink. This disposition is what lead me to drink. It's facinating, the combination of physical dependance and mental... oh, I'll just say it... mental illness. That's what I believe it is.
Okay, so the good news is I did get a sponsor two days ago. This time, I am willing. Whatever she wants me to do/write/say/think, I'm going to follow along. With 28 years of sobriety ~ and a super-wonderful disposition ~ I think I'm safe in suspecting she knows things I could benefit from.
Exhausting, this is. Exhausted, I am. Off to turn down my emotional volume with silly tv and a nap on the couch. Hope you are all having a healthy, calm, sober night...
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