Simply not being sick…

 

….does not make me healthy. I forget this sometimes. And life is then, of course, forced to remind me. Allow me to backfill;

There is a popular, and for many of us life saving way to look at alcoholism and addiction. It is referred to as the disease model – and it is one that I personally subscribe to. I was told very early in my recovery that my addiction to drugs and alcohol can very much be considered as a disease. A disease that, left untreated, has a morbidity rate matching that of cancer. In other words, if I did not seek treatment, my disease would prove fatal and eventually cause my death.

I am not writing this to open up any sort of debate. Believe what you will. Better yet – believe in that which works for you. For that, in truth, is all that I have done. I was able to believe in the concept of the disease model. The result is that I am now approaching 6 years of absolute abstinence. What we in the rooms refer to as a sober recovery. So please, do not attempt to show me the ‘flaws’ in my beliefs. I have almost 6 flawless years behind me, in recovery-speak.

So, back to the concept of the disease model – and my reasons for writing tonight.

I drank the kool-aid. And I love the taste. The kool-aid that I refer to is the treatment regimen that has kept my disease in remission for quite a fair number of ‘24’s’. The rooms of the twelve-step recovery programs.

My primary fellowship is, as mentioned in my second post, Alcoholics Anonymous. The meetings that I attend – the step work that I attend to – the sponsor and sponsee’s that I work with – the fellowship that I take part in – all of it works. And by ‘works’ I mean it keeps me sober. It keeps me sober because it allows me to learn a little more every day about HOW to live a sober life. I have learned so much. So much about this man who is typing away at the moment. So much about the little boy that still lives inside of that man. So much about being happy. And grateful. And ‘How it Works’. About faith. About life.

But I am human. And sometimes I forget. I forget some of the simple lessons. Some of the truths that were hard won. Some of the diamonds that were discovered in the pillaged mines of my heart and soul.

I experienced one of ‘those times’ yesterday afternoon. And allowed it to pretty much ruin my evening – my night – and even my sleep.

I got caught up in a power struggle at work. With a client.  And forgot that I do not have to win. That was the beginning. Then I got an email from my boss. In truth, a relatively innocent email. But being a good alcoholic, and fully and completely capable of blowing anything out of proportion while also making everything about me – I convinced myself that I was about to be reprimanded – and probably harshly too! How unfair! The injustice of it all! It was just like my childhood, right. About to be told that I am not good enough; that I am doing it wrong; oh the horror – that I am a failure!

All of this because of an email, you say? No, not really. All of this because I forgot. Forgot that I am as fully capable of making a mistake as I am of doing well. For I am but a human trying to ‘be’.

And can you guess what finally stopped all of that crap from running around in my head? I got up this morning and went to a meeting. A pretty darned special meeting. A meeting at which a friend of mine was celebrating 730 days – 104 weeks – 24 months – 2 years of clean and sober living!  A meeting where I was given the privilege of listening to a man share his personal story about the hell that was his life, and how that hell is now, today – and for today – behind him. A meeting where I was reminded that all I need do is be grateful. The rest follows.

I left that meeting this morning knowing that I am a good man, doing his best to do good work, and succeeding in living my life happily. I had forgotten those things. Thankfully I did not forget where I need to go to get a booster shot against my ever present, always lurking, continually-waiting-to make-the-most-of-a-moment-of-weakness-disease.

I had a fantastic day today. My boss and I had a quick chat. We laughed at my ability to grossly misinterpret. I acknowledged that I forgot some basic NVCI skills. And we moved on. No fanfare. No pink slips. No grumbling. Just a couple of men doing their jobs. And learning from life.

I wish to thank you Denise. For all that you do for the newcomer. And for being the reminder that my Higher Power felt that I needed. And Joey – well done brother. I am really proud of you man.

God Bless, and good night my fellow travelers.