Tag: ego

Feeling the pain I caused others


I’m an intellectual, analytical sort of guy by nature. So regardless of my addiction – or perhaps in addition to my addiction – I don’t connect well with my feelings. I can analyze a situation, describe the feelings I am, was or should be feeling…but I haven’t always connected with the emotions involved. I think it’s part of my coping mechanism for life. Coping with isn’t the same as living, just like tolerating someone isn’t the same as loving them.

I want to experience life – live life – love others…not just cope and tolerate.

I’m learning how to these days in recovery with a lot of tools and help.

This week, I realized how strong that coping mechanism has been.  About a month ago, a friend told me stuff I never knew that was going on around me and about me while I was in my last years of active addiction. In my selfish, self-centered world, I didn’t think anyone knew about my using — nor cared. Secretly, there were times I remember hoping someone would care, would say something — but I also know that most attempts to “help me” would have just driven me further away, strengthening my denial and the grip drugs had on me.

This friend told me about how people very close to me were aware of my using, sometimes in surprisingly graphic and real detail. But, these same folks knew that in most cases, the best thing to do is to let go, and let someone’s Higher Power guide events. Knowing and yet not being able to help was painful for them.  The helplessness, the despair, the concern, the fear.  And, I was oblivious to it all.

But, my analytical mind had really only processed this on one very intellectual level until this week. I filed the “news” away in my memory – didn’t talk about it with anyone really – but it would surface from time to time. Yesterday, I was talking with my sponsor and told him about this realization of the world around me – of the pain and worry I caused for some of the closest people in my life. Even then, I honestly felt little – it was a story, seemingly someone else’s.

Last night, I had some dreams that brought this awareness to light. I awoke and lay in bed thinking about what I shared the day before.  I saw the people involved in my mind, and started to cry – sobbing heavily as a greater sense of guilt, regret and sadness came over me. It finally all hit me — and I simply allowed myself to feel the pain and sadness.

I know the outcome is amazing – we’ve survived this and they continue to be in my life. I will make amends when the time is right.  But, the self-awareness from this is a great gift of recovery. The fact that these two folks courageously faced this situation with appropriate “detached love” and continue to be in my life is an even greater gift.

But perhaps the greatest gift was the reconnection between my intellect and my emotion. I understand better how important it is to live more authentically with the union of heart and mind, living through and experiencing the feelings of joy, sadness, fear that come with the events in life.  For now, for me, this takes conscious awareness and an effort to remain open to possibilities, to new world views, and to a maturing capacity to feel. The “lag” between events and feeling them is growing shorter, but it’s still there. My ability to detach is so strongly rooted in my way of living that it will take time to grow.

But, baby steps.

Today, I can see it for how it should really be.

Today, I feel the pain I cause others.  And for now, that is a wonderful gift.

To be continued….

A new understanding of surrender


Last night, I got a text from an old using buddy. In fact, J. was the one with whom I reconnected on my last relapse. He actually called me on my stuff then — talked about recovery — and had us pray together. In a sense, he pulled out of my rut and called me back to a more serious and honest recovery. So, like a little brother, he has held a special place in my daily prayers over the past 40 days.

Sadly, he’s still caught in the grip of the disease. He wasn’t texting to see how my Christmas shopping was going. When I replied with questions about his recovery and told him I would be here for him if he needed to talk or go to a meeting, the texting stopped. My heart broke. I said a prayer for him and drifted off to sleep.

Today, I was sharing with a friend about the late night contact. I talked about how there was no temptation to do anything more than help. I shared that even had I been out at my house alone or somewhere on my own (vs. where I am now with a roommate), I probably would have been ok with the text. “I didn’t call anyone as it was late — but if I had been alone, or had problems letting go, I would have.”

That’s when my friend pointed out I still was looking at this the wrong way. I was talking about my strength and my ability to say no. I wasn’t talking from a position of surrender, giving up control, and admitting powerlessness. It’s the cunning part of the disease – wanting me to believe I can handle things like a text from J. With that false pride, next time I might put myself in a risky situation because I think I can handle it. Or, I might not call as quickly as I need to and succumb to the temptation. My friend even cautioned me that praying isn’t sufficient. Like the 5th step in our fellowships tells us to share with our Higher Power and another human being, that triangle of confession is at the heart of admitting — of finding the humility to acknowledge true powerlessness and lack of control to God and another human being.

Good insight. Focus on surrender, not strength — on powerlessness, not ability.

I continue to pray for J – because at this point, that’s the best I can do for him. To think I can save him, or be there for him is truly naïve. The temptation to pick up would be too strong. My recovery comes first – and if I honestly want what’s best for him, I need to keep him in my prayers — asking for God’s will, not mine. To vainly try anything but surrendering him to my Higher Power is really more about my disease, my wants and an unhealthy codependency than it is an honest desire to see him do well.

The good news is I know God’s will is for him to be clean and to find freedom. It’s just a question of when he hits his bottom and accepts that he is an addict. He has some knowledge of recovery…so I pray that his bottom isn’t too low.

Letting go…

Day 117 – One of these days, I’m gonna get burned…


I’ve written before about feelings.  For so much of my life, even before my active addiction, I haven’t done well at understanding, sensing and managing my feelings.  Throw in years of addiction where I used alcohol and drugs to run away and numb myself, and I know that one of my biggest growth areas is to learn how to experience what’s going on, name the feelings, and process them so they don’t bite me in the ass!  And it’s more deadly than that…before they catch me off guard and I relapse.  Or, if I stay in my head too long and don’t either talk with another person in recovery or get out of my head, then I’ll end up in the same place…relapse.  Play with fire, and you get burned.  One of these days, if I’m not more vigilant and use the tools I’ve learned, I’ll get burned.  This ain’t Boy Scout Camp — this is real shit.  People go out, and most don’t come back.  People die.  It’s that simple.

I now realize that this week, I had several conversations or interactions that brought shit up from the past.  The specifics aren’t that relevant.  The point is I held onto them – even subconsciously.  I didn’t take time after things came up and pray, turning them over to my Higher Power.  So the simmering anger grew… resentment started to build.  I took my eye off what I could control – what I’m responsible for – and started taking other people’s inventory.  I dwelt too long in the past or worried about the future.

Recovery 101.  Don’t.

Live in the present.  Talk to people in recovery or my sponsor on a daily basis about what’s going on – even the little stuff…cause it’s the little shit that catches me off guard.  The job losses, deaths, etc. I realize I can handle. But throw in a couple hidden resentments, let them fester for awhile, mix ’em up with a little hunger or loneliness…recipe for relapse.  Straight from Betty Crocker.

And I came damn close last night.

And then, I went into auto-pilot today, working in the yard.  I processed some of the shit that was surfacing while I weeded…stayed in my head…and surprise, 8 hours later, on the way home from a meeting talking to my sponsor, I fell apart.  I was in tears, angry at him and the world, overwhelmed just for a moment with where I was, angry at myself and the past, for what had happened.  I was a mess.

I realize now I had cut off contact with my Higher Power.  I let my head – my rationalization – my control of the replay / jog dial on the recorder of my life – mess with my mind and get in the way of letting go.  Simple put, my ego got in the way.  CT tried to take control and play out how things coulda / shoulda happened.  And look where it got me!

Fortunately, my sponsor has been there…is patient…let me vent…then gently put me back in my place.  He reminded me of perspective – the bigger picture.  He reminded me to stay in today, to turn things over.  To let go.

Pretty simple.

And I got back where I needed to be.  A little more humble.  Just for today.

It was 24 hours from when I almost stumbled and went out playing with fire to when I finally processed all this with another person in recovery.  That’s about 23 hours and 59 minutes too long.

This time, I made it through.  But next I may not.

This is real.

Play with fire, you die.

It’s that simple.

Now, easy does it…progress, not perfection…lay my head down and be thankful for what I’ve got.