A recent 2-hour flight became a transformative lesson in flexibility and a chance to practice releasing the old, and embracing the new.
I’ve been an aisle person as far back as I can recall. Probably left over from my drinking days when I was restless, fidgety, and impatient. I needed frequent bathroom trips from the steady stream of liquids I consumed. Plus, I didn’t enjoy my passive / aggressive emotions toward the seat mates I had to climb over.
When I was in the first few, tender weeks of my sobriety, I distracted myself as much as I could. I went to countless meetings, walked the downtown streets, read, had coffee with folks and watched cheesy 70’s martial arts films. I ate cookies by the boxful. I did whatever I could to get away from my racing thoughts. I was unsure what to do with myself since letting go of the bottle. I knew I wasn’t alone, feeling so raw and unsure of what to do. I had heard others half-jokingly contemplate going back to drinking so at least they were doing something.
It’s funny that I am about to write a post on gratitude, and, if I’m keeping things real, I am feeling anything but in the current moment. I dropped a weight on my finger during this morning’s workout. At the time, I was grateful it wasn’t my writing hand; now I am realizing in this day and age I need all 10 fingers to write. An extremely frustrating customer service call five minutes ago plays in my head, with no obvious solution on the horizon.
Sometimes I feel I am getting the hang of how this works. “This” meaning life as a sober grown- up. Not that I always do it right. Thanks Big Book for the comforting quote above. And thanks New Thought mentality for a moment of clarity: Time to change the subject, Lena… but just one more post about relapse. (“Just one more….” – my former mantra…)
Drugs and alcohol deliver nothing but heartbreak and broken promises. During your active addiction, substances become your higher power, guiding force, and reason for living. When you finally make the commitment towards recovery, you wonder if you will ever experience true happiness. Fortunately, sobriety actually delivers on the promises that drugs and alcohol fail to make. In this article, we will break down the 8 important things that sobriety promises you in your life of recovery.
Drinking dreams enveloped me the past two nights. In both dreams, my drinking was conscious; I was fully aware. Weird that in the first dream I clearly decided not only to drink, but to lie to my sponsor about it. By the second dream, I’d decided to chuck my sobriety out the window all together.
If, like me, you grew up with a hyper-reactive nervous system that constantly made you feel overwhelmed, alienated and unlovable, finding a substance that eases social stress becomes a blessed escape. For me, heroin provided a sense of comfort, safety and love that I couldn’t get from other people . . .