Relapse and Recovery

     Someone said to me in a meeting once that recovery is three steps forward, two steps back.  I definitely agree.  Last month things came to a head with the accumulation of a few rough months with a rejection.  I was hurt and depressed.  I kept everyone at arms length, because I felt even if I let them in that they couldn’t help me.  I wanted to, but didn’t trust them to help.

     Of course then I got angry when I felt people weren’t helping me enough…after I pushed them away.  I spent a two weeks absolutely miserable and then gradually things started to get better.  I started to let people in slowly.  I started to figure out that even if they couldn’t fix my problems they could at least sit with me and listen to me.  I had to battle my own guilt.  I felt guilty for falling apart, for shutting people out and not being a better friend.  I felt guilty for both wanting to be helped and guilty for wanting people to listen to me.

      I struggled with the numbness taking over me.  I mean it makes sense doesn’t it?  It’s easier to be numb than feel pain or hurt.  But I’ve lived a great chunk of my life being numb and I don’t want that anymore.  I want to feel, the good and the bad.

     Yesterday I chaired (led) my meeting.   Afterward I was showered with compliments and called a “natural chair”.  I shrugged off the compliments, because I still don’t feel deserving of good words.  But then a senior member complimented me on all the progress I’ve made in two months.  He also complimented me on the strength of my desire to work the program and get better.  These two compliments I didn’t shrug off.

      It is hard to see what progress you’ve made in the program, particularly after a relapse such as mine.  But the group, it notices.  The senior member’s words meant the absolute world to me.  Combining the great meeting with great friends and that night I actually felt happy, like a normal person might.  That moment solidified the idea that I am making progress.  Also now that I’ve had a taste of true happiness, I think I’m addicted. 

     It’s hard but the program works.  Three steps forward, two steps back, but it works.  All I have left to say is thank God for ACA and Al-Anon.

In ACA's Absence There is Al-Anon

There are no ACA meetings in my state, so I decided to go to an Al-Anon meeting.  I find many ACoAs go to Al-Anon when ACA is not available.  This was written the day after my first Al-Anon meeting. 

      I had my first real life (as in not online) meeting yesterday.  It was an Al-Anon meeting which I only later found out happened to have an adult child focus.  Seems I do have luck, but it's not really where I want it. 

     I was definitely the youngest there, though I became reassured by the presence of a guy only five years older who graduated from the same small college I went to.  I think it's going to take me some time to open up to this group, but they were very kind and supportive.

      There was a woman who looks like Sarah Palin.  Seemed really nice though.

      The meeting basically followed the same outline as the online ones, except you raised your hand instead of typing "!" and you said, "Hi my name is _____."  And everyone else said, "Hi _____."  Also real life hugging, which I wasn't totally comfortable with, so I stayed out of it.  I won't lie; it was a bit awkward.  But I think if I continue to go I'll start to trust them, and then I'll be able to open up. 

      Topic was God's will.  So many time the phrase, "Let go and let God," came up.  Yeah.  I'm not ready to relinquish that sort of control.