I’m grateful for the feeling that so much is different. I’m grateful for chances that keep presenting themselves. I’m grateful I make myself laugh. I’m grateful other people don’t mind that so much. I’m grateful when the music matches the morning. I’m grateful to be sober today.
It’s Thursday and you know what that means? Me either. I have this problem pretty frequently and while it was once confined to days of the week, it has now expanded to months of the year. I understand that October starts very soon. Maybe that’s kind of the issue for me; things need to present themselves to me pretty directly if there is a hope of getting my attention. I just don’t get some pretty obvious things right away.
I’ve been feeling very emotional lately and it’s often not possible to trace things back to the source. The advent of October does suggest one connection and that is to my sobriety date—which is October 22. I don’t take any of the days between here and there for granted, but it does have me thinking a lot and feeling a lot. It’s a real mix of feelings, too. Of course, there is happiness and excitement and that ever-present sense of disbelief; I was finally able to turn the corner after all of those failed attempts and salvage my life.
There’s also sadness and regret. The passage of time lets me revisit some of the stories of that era. Things that I just couldn’t confront yet, things I couldn’t really even think about, much less think through. Those things are starting to poke through and it’s time to start reconciling with those ghosts. I think about my last days of drinking and just how completely desolate they were. That was this time of year. I think a lot about how someone way smarter than me figured me out and finally outmaneuvered me. I think about someone who loved me way more than I deserved and helped me way more than I realized. I think about how many debts are still out there.
I’m very excited about the prospect of being able to say that I have three years of sobriety. I’m more mindful of what I owe. Getting here has been miracle of grace. But it’s a miracle that cost a lot for way too many people. While I can’t fix or undo that, I can honor it and do my best to atone for it. I’m very mindful about not having this become a “I’m out of the car and I’m OK!” moment. Will there be a victory lap? Need you ask?1 That’s important for me and for the Program.
Anniversaries are the most direct evidence that the Program works and sharing them is not a function of ego, but an act of humility.
But the job is not to do an award show share at a meeting thanking everyone who helped make the moment possible and basking in the glow of shared recovery. The most important duty of every alcoholic is sit across from other alcoholics and tell them that God has done for them what they could not do for themselves. Like Ebby did for Bill W. I think it’s sharing that moment of ultimate vulnerability and authenticity that lights or fans that spark in another alcoholic. Then we all work together to tend that tiny flame.
My intention for October is to write about how I got here—not so much the story of the downward spiral—how I got to the place where I was saved is much less interesting than the story of how I was saved. I’m already dreading this, which is one of the ways I know it’s what I should do. For me, the process of telling these stories first involves remembering them—very accurately and in a very detailed way. One of the reasons I drank was to fog that lens and make that kind of true introspection impossible. Now I have a job to do. So when I get to qualify or share my anniversary date next month, I want to make sure I’m telling the real story, the one that is true and the one that saved my life.
Next month apparently starts on Saturday, so it’s time to get to work.
Thanks for Letting Me Share
My capacity for self-celebration is extensive and often on public display at the basketball courts at Carl Schurz Park.
Sending good vibes!
I’m still trying to remember all my stories and make them make sense.
Best of luck!