Well, it happened. With all the shame radiating from my heart, through my arms, and shooting through my fingers onto this keyboard, I am sitting here sweating, pissed, and hollow. My ego has definitely gotten the best of me. It’s just one day. Does it really count?
A.A. is an honest program. I know what I did, regardless of whether I think that it’s fair or not, I know that I have not been sober since October 17. I have to restart my date and restart my steps. Hearing that really sent me into a spiral. My mind was suddenly in full effect. I woke up and told my sponsor that if I have to restart everything, then “I may as well drink”. Looking back, I wish I would have had the sense to replay the tape. Instead, I lived it.
This disease is so powerful. It was like all the chips and tears and hard work meant nothing. Being sober again (for a week now) I know that none of that was lost. I wanted to keep my date soo bad. And they say that the only shame in relapsing is not coming back to the rooms. So I did. And as the chairman asked for everyone to state their name and claim and their sobriety dates, I felt like someone had pulled the string that tied my entire life together and unraveled me in front of everyone. I suddenly felt a spotlight on me, burning into my forehead. I was vulnerable, I was ashamed, I was… oh my God I can’t stop crying.
It took a lot for me to take that 24 hour chip. I hadn’t shown up to do my commitment Three weeks in a row, and I’d come in many times before, an obvious wreck. My home-group was proud. They clapped and welcomed me back and hugged me so hard. I guess they were sending prayers up every time I announced “I’m Dymond. I’m an alcoholic. I’m sober today” for the past week, and rushing out the door as fast as I’d come in to meet my “friends” at the bar.
Addiction is so scary. It wants me dead. It told me I wasn’t worth shit. It had me thinking of reasons and ways I should off myself after I downed a bottle of rum. It doesn’t want anything good for me. It’s not helping me escape anything, all of my problems multiply after I give in. This time I am blessed. I stopped before I went out for years. I returned to my sober family before I pushed the “Fuck it” button. I’m grateful that I can always come back no matter how ashamed I am. A.A. is going to love me when I can’t love myself.
It took me so long to get the balls to finish writing this. I really didn’t want to share this. I started it the day I relapsed and kept putting it off. But today is a really emotional day. I think it calls for a double post.
For this one, I just want for anyone who is struggling to know:
“THERE IS A SOLUTION. Almost none of us liked the self-searching, the leveling of our pride, the confession of shortcomings which the process requires for its successful consummation. But we saw that it really worked in others, and we had come to believe in the hopelessness and futility of life as we had been living it. When, therefore, we were approached by those in whom the problem had been solved, there was nothing left for us but to pick up the simple kit of spiritual tools laid at our feet. We have found much of heaven and we have been rocketed into a fourth dimension of existence of which we had not even dreamed.”
Sometimes I wanna wallow in self pity and stomp my feet and cry about how far I would have and could have been. That everyone who doubted my sobriety was right and I can shame myself for “screwing up”. That is so easy to do. I didn’t lose anything. I have learned so much from my treatments. Going to treatment and meeting people in recovery and talking about my past has lead me to the amazing program of A.A. and I’m not gonna lie. I hated it at first but damn I want what these people have so bad I can’t give up. I am all in. This is life or death for me. Addiction can’t win this time.