Week 14

Don't you find that some weeks last longer than others?  My time with my counsellor is coming to an end and has become a review of time travelled and the journey made.  She asked me to find something in my home that could be a symbol of recovery for me as part of building a toolkit (my words) for the future.  This was difficult to tie down as I've made quite a few connections during the past months.
A significant one of these was a white flying horse or should that be a flying white horse, can't decide.  During one particular session with her, I found myself standing in a cave watching my family playing outside in a meadow in the sunshine.  It was really bright and they were running around with each other, laughing madly, but no matter how much I wanted to join in I couldn't leave my cave.  Yes it was dark and cold and damp but I was filled with fear of ruining their fun so I stayed behind watching.  Gradually I became aware of a white horse standing beside me and a rope in my hand.  I was holding onto the rope so tightly that my hand was red raw and the skin stuck to the rope.  Being in the cave reminded me of my early days in recovery when I had imagined myself in a dark room with no doors or windows and while I couldn't see anything at all I was in a very comfortable armchair and felt very safe.  Over time I moved from the room to a tunnel and though I couldn't see the light at the end of it, I could see the way to take by the torches held out for me by my friends in AA and found myself taking a journey of hope.  This cave felt like the end of that tunnel and with sight of the light a realisation that it could be time to step out into it.  Further reflection and discussion led to an awareness of my horse having wings and that we were one and the same.  Throughout my counselling many of my descriptions of where I am, and have been, have resulted in descriptions connected to horses such as being saddled to a horse, racing on a blinkered horse, unable to stop a running horse.  The connections have also been positive such as flying free, running free, and the feeling of being unleashed and allowed to roam.  It became apparent that I have a habit of being so focused on an end result that I don't have any awareness of what happened in between and we developed a theme whereby I would ask myself what would happen if I stopped to eat the grass.
When I first came into recovery I was very aware of the need to take everything moment by moment, in contrast to projecting into the future and ruing the past.  While my only focus was stopping drinking this was quite simple, to do what was in front of me, to live in this moment only, to let go of my worries and fears of that which could not be dealt with.  As time has moved on, and living in this world as it is, it has become more difficult and I hadn't realised how I had lost this gift.  I had returned to the racehorse, either stressing out in the stalls worrying about what lay ahead or collapsed at the end, knackered by what had been.  The race itself had passed me by and I wouldn't have been able to tell you whether there was any grass never mind what it tasted like.  I know how much effort it had taken to slow down, to change my thinking patterns, to hand it over to my Higher Power and to let it go.  It wasn’t always easy, I spent a lot of time in meetings cleaning out my fingernails and making sure that I wasn't hanging onto the tiny threads of whatever it was I was attempting to hand over, attempting to keep control of it, to force myself to fail and keep all the misery that comes with that failure.  My second recovery journey has been so much harder as my disease has taken hold again and whilst I didn't drink, my head, my thinking was lost.  During the week, I have been scouring the house looking for this symbol, no flying white horses in sight, when on the last morning I saw my car parked outside.  I am a very lucky girl when it comes to my car.  It was an incident with a car that forced me to look at my drinking and during my first year in sobriety I had to buy myself a new car.  'Had' might be a bit strong, we had a family car but if I was to get to work independently, get to meetings regularly and to keep us both sane then another car was key to that.  Given that every single other decision I had ever made prior to this point was as the old me, this was big time.  It was also a lonely one.
I isolated from my family in my first year of recovery, struggling to understand what was going on, determined to work out the answer on my own.  The consequences of recovery on a family are not straightforward; many families already feel isolated from the alcoholic, angry with them for the years of misery and very unwilling to be part of the change.  Let’s face it, it is a big change and in more ways than anyone can know or anticipate.  Buying a new car became symbolic of many things, and I don’t remember being conscious of any of them, I just did it.  I partly did the right thing of working out what I felt the budget should be (note the use of the word ‘felt’ rather than ‘calculate’) and started to search for likely contenders.  I also had an idea of how old I ‘felt’ it should be and what age.  How I came up with the criteria I don’t know, probably another reason why I did it on my own, following my feelings rather than using any facts!  As part of my research into the 2nd hand car market I found myself repeatedly coming back to the MX5.  Whilst some, including my husband (hereafter known as J), might not have seen this two-seater sports car in the family bracket, I became more and more convinced that this was the answer.  The logical argument used at the time was based on value for money, reliability, that we already had a family car and wouldn’t necessarily need another one with four seats.  In my usual way, I started to pitch the idea to anyone that would listen, not really gaining any support from anyone and annoying J with the airing of what he believed would never happen.  Eventually I realised that I had gone off on my own and asked my Higher Power for guidance on whether this was a ridiculous notion or an appropriate one.  Yes, it did feel slightly bonkers, so much going on in the world and there I was, praying for help with buying a car.  However praying for help was part of what was suggested to me and what I came to understand as the solution; through a slow realisation that my life was governed by self-will run riot, that selfish and self-centred were my middle names and that I wouldn’t survive if I didn’t change.  The change suggested is to find a higher power and eventually, after trying not to follow any suggestions, I did indeed look for and find my HP.  This is why I now pray, quite a shift for a committed atheist, and probably covered in more detail later on.  (Stepping back a moment, I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to get to the point, sometimes more background is needed than one might have been expecting.)
Praying for guidance, indeed anything, has become a core part of my life and yet one that I can easily forget as well.  Many aspects of the life of a recovering addict can appear contradictory, although to be honest this provides an insight into our world and the life that goes on inside our heads.  I asked for a sign to help me know if I was doing the right thing by my family or if I was being selfish and self-centred.  The next day J told me of a car he’d seen for sale at the gym, clearly labelled with price, mileage and age at an exact match to my search.  Only difference was in terms of colour, this was red and I wanted dark grey or blue.  Coincidentally (loving these), an interest-free credit offer arrived in the post.  Some of the most amazing coincidences have happened to me in my sobriety, some of which have also seemed amazing to other people and while this one might have been slight, I took it as a definite seal of approval and embarked upon the purchasing of said vehicle.  (Finally, I get to tell you why it is a symbol of my recovery and I get to build my toolkit.  I’m tempted to say the rest of the story is in the next post but given the patience of those of you who have gently asked for this one, I shall make it a complete story.)
My time with my car added to my life.  It was a joy to drive; hugging the road even at slow speeds.  Driving with the roof down and my hair flying allowed me to really connect with the world around me and even with the roof up and the rain beating down I could feel that.  The children loved it and it provided some great one-on-one bonding even on trips to the supermarket.  I began to appreciate my time on the way to and from meetings, listening to my music and understanding the purpose of the journey and not just the destination.  It reminded me of a bright red beating heart, smaller than many of the cars around it, beaming loudly in its own special way.  Slowly this car began to remind me of me in a ‘this is who you are and could be’ way.  It was full of love; small and compact; great to be with; enjoying life; could let its roof (hair) down; made people smile, the list went on.  I had the reminder of what recovery could bring to me every day and yet I had chosen to put the roof up, not look after it, and shut my eyes and ears to that journey.   Coming back to recovery is not something I want to repeat, I really want to stick with it this time, to keep myself on track and to do whatever it takes to stay sober.  This is not an optional disease, it does not go away, I do not get better.  I need to be very clear that not only do I know what my toolkit is but that I have it with me and remember to use it.  The programme gives me all of that but I have to stick with it and make sure that it remains current and honest.  I need to look after myself, to understand my maintenance regime and put the necessary structures in place to keep me safe.  Why?  Because I’m worth it.

Week 13

Very aware that my weeks are out of sync now and working hard on not letting that allow me to stop.  The question I ask myself is "are the exercises optional?"  If I'm the only one that has set myself an objective does that mean I'm allowed to flex the rules to suit myself, did I set any in the first place?  I know that I get things done when I have structure and have discussed that many times before.  Is it realistic to put structure around everything, is that workable?  In our household of 4, there's a lot of timetabling and the free times are precious.  I am a firm believer that balance is the key, so for me we need to have both in our lives.    The free times give us flexibility, rest, recuperation, time together as a family, out as a group.  Maybe we get more of this than other families but I have to remember that this is important to me and why I became a parent.  What I should do with it is pray for guidance, hand it over and let it go.
My counsellor set me a task last week which I actually wrote down, to make a list of positive thoughts that could replace the negative ones.  Theoretically, this should be a straightforward exercise.  Positive thoughts and suggestions are easy to create but listening to them, accepting them, letting them in is another thing entirely.  Watching myself bringing in the home guard and building barriers before the thought is even complete is amazing.  My complete and utter willingness to go to a place of defence against anything is incredulous and so needs to go.  Yet again, I am reminded that the only time that I feel better and find a way of living that works is when I go to an AA meeting.  Maybe coming to the end of my counselling sessions is no bad thing, I have the answer, I just need to put the work in!  Will pick that up with my sponsor when I see her later.

Week 12

This may get to be an additional post this week in an effort to catch up.  Week 12's chapter hopes that we are writing more than the exercises and that our habit is building nicely.  I think if it had been that easy then I probably wouldn't have needed the book.  To be fair, there's obviously more to this than just finding time so I will retract that thought and carry on plodding.  I'm still struggling with time, not just with writing time but with finding time for myself.  Christmas was a great example of how difficult I find it to detach myself from the family when completely in the thick of it.  Routine and structure work to a point but options for laziness are always there.  It won't surprise you to hear that I don't exercise even irregularly, walking the dog is my limit.  I enjoy a good dance but it's finding the space that is more of the issue.  Dancing is the one time that I can really let go and get on with being myself.  I don't like the idea of performing but have learned to ignore the fact that anyone may be watching and just get on with it.  It's probably something to do with the rarity with which I go dancing and the desire that I have to dance in a decent space.  It would be great if I could apply that to the other aspects of my life and see what progress can be made!  Perhaps even with researching for the novel.  A good friend who I haven't seen for a long time wondered why I hadn't considered wanting to write rather than just needing to.  A very fair question and one that I have been pondering on.  I have never worked hard and would like to think that didn't mean that I was necessarily lazy.  I can get very excited and driven by projects at work which then take over and become too much of a priority.  It was a bit of a coincidence that I found the following quote from Marianne Williamson the other day - “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”  There are many statements that have given me strength during my recovery where light and dark are key players.  "Hold your face to the light, even though you do not see it".  My early days were very dark, dark and scary.  It took a while for me to realise how desperate I was, how chaotic my life was, how my way of living was completely unmanageable and  how I knew of no alternative.  I found it extremely difficult to accept that I could learn from those around me and that, while our drinking patterns may have been different, our thinking patterns were the same.  It was incredible to finally realise that I wasn't completely mad, that the people I met in the meetings were the same as me on so many levels.  I often imagined myself in a dark room with no windows and no doors, no furniture except for the big, comfy armchair in which I was sitting, feeling warm and safe.  I began to accept that it would be ok and, with the help of my higher power, began to hand over my fear of sobriety and of living in this world with the rest of you.  One day, without noticing, I found myself no longer in my comfy chair but standing in a dark tunnel, no longer feeling safe or warm.  As I stood there, looking around desperately, searching for light to work out which way to go, I became aware of friends from the rooms holding burning torches for me, helping me to see the way.  It was then that I knew that I didn't have to worry about where I was going or how to get there or what the future would hold because I would be ok, that the life that I was choosing for myself would be the right one and that I would always have the help that I needed.  I will never forget the faces of my torchbearers although some of them have moved away.  They are the ones that got me on my path, out of my armchair, reached out their hands even when I didn't know how to take them.  Recovery from addiction is a unique and individual experience and, to be honest, the first thing I have ever had to really work out.  It would be great to think that if I can do this then everything else should be achievable.  I had a timely reminder this week of just how desperate I had felt when I came into the rooms.  It reminded me of how far I have come and how much work I have done.  The key to my recovery has been to take one day at a time; to keep it simple; to think, think, think; to let go and let God.  Not exactly hard work unless I make it hard for myself and forget.  At the beginning of my blogging, I decided this was to be about working my way through the guide and not about writing my novel.  Perhaps I was being too hopeful that the novel wouldn't matter, I don't think that's the case.  I need, in fact, want, to do both.  

Week 11

I really meant to write on time this week and then the exercise put me off.  The word ‘research’ arose and my lack of time management skills kicked in.  It’s one thing putting time aside to write but a completely different thing putting time aside to research and then write.  Sadly I achieved neither and have only just now started the (non-researched) writing bit, hoping that I manage to complete the exercise too.   I’ve realised that the opportunities of a new year don’t work well for me.  Too much expectation of the future and too much looking back into the past.  This year I am working at letting it all go and just looking at today.  It’s how I got sober and is such an amazing gift in terms of living that I don’t understand why it is so difficult for me to put it into practice in the rest of my life.  That probably comes back to the expectation of others and the habits of the past, that’s what I will be letting go of.

Exercise 6 – create an entirely fictional character from a country that you haven’t visited and write a paragraph in which that person introduces themselves.

Hei!  My name is Mooni, it comes from the Finnish name Salomon, meaning peace.  I live in the north of Finland, in a small town called Ivalo.   It is a great centre for people wishing to see the Northern Lights and, together with my wife Nelli, we run our own excursion company.  It is an incredibly beautiful place to live, not just for the lights but if you love the outdoor life.  In winter we can go skiing (both downhill and cross country), snowboarding, husky and reindeer sledge riding, whilst in the summer there is trekking and hiking in the Saariselkä fjells, canoeing in rivers, mountain biking and fishing.

How dull.  I don't think I really embraced that one.  Perhaps I should try again...

Hei! My name is Mooni, not quite Moomin, which is a relief as my wife, Nelli, is a huge Moomin fan.  We live in the home of the Moomins, Suomi also known as Finland, and we know them as Muumi not Moomins.  (Not sure if this is any more interesting or if I'm just not taking this seriously.)

What I may do here is take the chance to change and not follow the process, because at the moment, this doesn't suit me and I don't feel like writing it.  What is of more interest, is that I have found a really lovely cafe to write in right opposite the Costa that I have been going to for months.  Sadly am on my way to my counselling so can't sit here for long but it feels like somewhere right to write :) so will drop off now and come back later when I have time.  Maybe this will be the year of change, of doing the things I want to do, the way I want to do them.  That would be good if I can do it honestly and with love.  Love for those around me who have put up with so much and love for those who have had it easy.  Either way, it feels like a really good place today, amazing what a difference a day can make.

Week 10

After failing to write last week, I was tempted to cheat and write a combined week 10 and 11 blog as one.  However I realised that cheating or taking short cuts doesn't actually get me anywhere.  If I really want to do this then doing it properly is the only way.  It's been interesting to note that I'm still finding it difficult to increase my writing time and that it's very much a last minute, deadline driven approach that I'm taking.  Obviously, I can change this.  Obviously, I can choose to write more, even everyday if I choose to.  However, that isn't happening and this week/fortnight has been a clear example of that.  I have allowed myself to be too busy, too distracted by everything and anything else.  I know that this is based on fear.  Fear of failing, of my writing not being good enough.  No matter how I tell myself that it's the writing that's important and not the end result, I know that isn't true.  I really want to like what I write and for it to be liked.  I suppose that's because my writing feels like it comes from within me and is therefore part of me.  Mirroring how I feel about myself.  The journey of recovery talks about acceptance.  Acceptance of powerlessness and acceptance of self, are, for me, the fundamentals of a solid sobriety.  I cannot change or effect anything around me and I have to truly accept myself for who I am, if I am to find peace and serenity.  My writing takes me there and yet, scares me too, for it is putting myself down on paper and allowing others in.  Week 10 is about having a plot, a storyline where things happen.  While I do have an outline plot, I know that some of the detailed parts of it will be hard to write because they will come from a dark place within me and they won't be likeable.  Most of the parts that I have awareness of are the nice bits, the happy times in a life.  Yet for the story to work, there will have to be an honesty of what my character can be so that she can have something to transform from.  It's that which scares me because I know that will be from within me too, not necessarily what I have done but what I could do, and to be honest about that I will have to let go of being liked.

Week 9

Failed miserably at week one of allocating distinct time but the good news is that I managed to find some before the end of the week.  While talking to a friend about stuff, it occurred to me that the content of this blog thus far has been focused mainly on negative states.  Not always a good thing but maybe useful in terms of learning to connect to my emotions (currently mostly negative) as I get used to writing about what is going on both internally and externally.  Looking at what I need to support my writing last week was intriguing in terms of also thinking about what I need for living.  A window seat and a pair of headphones to write, a view and music to live, something to look at and something to listen to.  Intriguing too, as my listening skills are actually really shocking.  My lovely hubby, J, has suffered a lot from this and will probably be surprised to know that not only am I aware of this but am actually working really hard at getting better at it.  Music is a key part of my life and is also a key part of my novel.  I’m not sure how it’s going to work but I really want to use music to trigger memories, both good and bad, for my leading lady as well as provide support for progressing.  I found a lot of strength in my early recovery from music and it can really pick me up when I’m down.  I should also add that it can be like magic when I can dance to it too, space allowing.

Exercise – write about being trapped, thinking about how it feels, fictionalise if wanted…

As I looked at the wine bottle I could swear that I saw something move.  Half full of red wine, the bottle had called to me across the kitchen, tempting me to take a sniff, to just have a little sip.  No-one was here to notice, no-one to chastise me, to tell me to stop, to ask what I was doing, what harm could there be in a sip?  If I’m honest, it had been tempting and I found myself moving towards it, my body taking me forward.  But now, just there in the bottom of it, something moved.  It wasn’t an animal or an insect but definitely some kind of creature.  As I peered more closely at it, I began to see a leg and then an arm.  Two tiny feet passed against the glass, almost human but not quite.  The creature’s skin was grey, a dirty grey, and it was worn and wrinkled.  It was moving slowly in the wine, part swimming, part floating, part drowning.   As I watched it, I became aware of how I was feeling.  My skin was prickling, hot on the inside and cold on the outside.  The wine, no longer alluring but reeking of vinegar, was so overpowering that my stomach began to churn, my head to pound.  A face appeared and looked directly at me, its eyes wide and bright, an enticing smile willing me to enter.  Momentarily I moved and then stopped as I saw a glimpse of a gloat.  As I stayed rooted to the spot, its eyes darkened, the brows furrowed, nostrils flared and the smile narrowed to a glare.  The creature let out an almighty howl that I felt roll against my skin but could not hear. It pushed its face against the green glass, snorting through its nostrils, wailing silently, the wine drowning out any trace of a sound before disappearing into the darkness.  The prickles subsided, the sickness settled and my head calmed.  I turned towards the door and turned out the light.

Week 8

What a coincidence that having written about time last week, this week's chapter is about allocating time to writing.  A coincidence? Or maybe I read ahead and have forgotten.  Either way, this week is about working out exactly what (and where, and how) my core writing time is.  And surrounding it with barbed wire.  This is actually much needed and obviously very appropriate for many of us.  Monday started out very well, I could find an hour to hide away, drink coffee and do what was needed.  Which is just what it was, do as was 'needed'.  I don't think that approach will get me very far, certainly hasn't worked successfully in the rest of my life.  Just enough to get by; without breaking a sweat; getting the pass mark; the bare minimum.  Probably all apply just as equally and while I'm doing ok, I think this book deserves better.  Therapy done half-heartedly will not get me better.  However, it is also the hardest thing to do properly.  It will not come without effort and it will not come without pain.  I don't like either.  What I do well at, is avoidance and distraction, in buckets.  So finding my writing time is highly needed, together with the barbed wire.  The weekend would seem the obvious place to start but I have always been uncomfortable eating into 'family time'.  Evenings after work are difficult too as once back in the house I find it difficult to get out again, especially in addition to existing commitments.  But, as I wrote that sentence I had a lightbulb moment.  I could write at work at the beginning of my day.  That would also help out with an additional issue - I need to be able to stay honest at work.  What do I mean by this?  For me and my recovery, I need to accept who I am and that 'am' needs to be the same everywhere.  I have to be comfortable to be my true self and to leave the masks behind.  At the moment, I can only do this when I feel safe, really safe.  But I need to work with my HP to feel safe and to let go of my angst especially at work.  It is amazing how hard it is to leave the masks on the floor, not to take the handles that are presented to me at the drop of a hat, to be myself.  A working wardrobe can start the masking process, full make-up, the drive to work, the steps to the office door, it all adds up and I need to lose this.  Some mornings are ok, I remember to pray for help, I remember to stay in touch and it works.  Other days start off all wrong and it can be a long time before I remember what I need to do.  If, at the start of my working day, I gave myself thirty minutes of writing, that would be a way of reminding myself that no matter what had happened up to this point, it was time to connect.  This could actually work.  A cup of coffee (decaf of course, a topic for another day), a pair of headphones and a window seat would be great.  Whether those three can succeed in the office remains to be seen.  It's definitely worth a try though.
The great news is that I get to start tomorrow on work day 1.  This post will now become the end of my week rather than the beginning.  I wonder what the effect may be........