Sunday, December 10, 2006

Get off my sofa, you twit!

Nothing like a cat fight to end the day, is there? I'm not much into blogging today; not that it's been a bad day, it's just that it's been sort of an emotional one.

I went to my home group tonight and it was packed. Every time the drug task force in town makes a big bust, our rooms fill up with referrals from the courts. Tonight there were about eight newcomers, which always makes it a good meeting. Today's reading talked about sticking with the winners and a lot of members had strong opinions on that topic.

One of our newer members opened the meeting and shared that he had moved to another city for a new job. When he got there, the job didn't pan out and back he came. He said that this was the first time he'd lost a job and not used over it. He realized he said, for the first time, that if he could choose not to use over losing this job that he'd made it over a big hurdle in his recovery.

Often we get here with reservations. I used to wonder in the beginning if I'd be able to stay clean when I lost my father. I sometimes would cry just thinking about it. He got cancer and not only was I able to stay clean, I was able to administer his drugs, from codeine to dilaudid to liquid morphine, without using.

I couldn't even imagine losing my mother because we'd become so close after I got clean. Not only was I able to help her through over a decade of Alzheimer's and administer her valium when she needed it, I was able to stay clean through her agonizing death.

Then I got sick and while facing an almost certain death, I was able to stay clean. The grace of God, if we allow it, gets us through these trials by fire. What we often view as a personal tragedy often turns out ultimately to be a blessing in disguise.

Tonight my brother Fast Eddie called with news that he was back in Seattle at a funeral of a dear friend who probably died from our disease. The family ain't talking. We often think when we lose close friends to the disease "Is this enough to make me stop using?" Many times, it is not. It may sober us up for a few days or even a few weeks, but those of us with this terminal malady know that only divine intervention gets us into the rooms.

I am so often struck by how blessed I am to have made it here and stuck. So many never make it, or they may arrive, stay awhile and decide the program isn't for them. I don't know why I've made it; God has truly blessed me.

There was a song by the band XTC called "Senses Working Overtime." In my case, it's been "Angels Working Overtime." Thank you, God. By the way, listen to Senses Working Overtime free and a few other great XTC cuts here

I'm off to listen to a Leonard Cohen album, Essential Cohen, so you know if I wasn't depressed before, I will be soon. If no one has told you today that they love you, I do. Namaste.


SCoUt said...

You must have been at an N.A. meeting last night cause we had the same reading.
I don't know why I made it either and some of my favorite people don't (or haven't yet.) Yes, divine intervention, but why not for all of us. Someone told me "some of us have to die so that other addicts can live." That seemed to smack a bit too much like Jesus for my tastes, and like you said, someone's death generally doesn't keep us clean long.
What I know for sure is this disease is something else, man. And I am ever grateful to the pure power in the rooms for filling me up and making me want to surrender.
I love you, too.

Sober Chick said...

Hi twodogsbarking,

My friend Scout sent me over and I am glad she did. 21 years of recovery, that is so amazing! I am pretty new in my sobriety, June 2005. I fell in love with the fellowship and embrace that I am a part of all the miracles taking place.

I am very grateful for those who have wallked the path a head of me leaving clear directions for me to follow. There is something so magical about Hope.

Thanks for your share.

Meg Moran said...

Had one of those days myself...not good, not bad, just sort of melencholy....a time for reflection I guess. Three of the newcomers in my meeting tonight got on a rip about how boring sobriety is. Hmmm.....I'm trying to remember, was I bored? Or was I too beat uo to want anymore action? I need to get in touch with that before I can comment too much. But I know it sure isn't boring now. I've never had it so good.

I had a friend die too, and his family wasn't talking. I remember thinking that a little honesty from the podium at his funeral might have helped felt a little like a farce, calling it an "untimely heart attack at such a young age"...hell, he'd smoked crack till his heart gave out! But I guess there's only so much we can ask a family to bear. This disease can be so brutal.

Anonymous said...

Awesome Post! Truly inspirational!



Anonymous said...

yep. i'm with you on that one. I consider myself bloody lucky to be alive. beats me why i'm still here. yep the angels are working overtime on my case as well..
(don't you LOVE that film with nicholas cage city of angels or something?) i loved it..