the road to change leads through grace

Posts tagged ‘sobriety’

A Near Perfect Day

Life is a game of chance.

There are going to be days that are near perfect. When those days come, take them. Run with them and feel every happy moment. But in the game of life comes the reality that many days may not be ideal.

To me, a happy day is when I feel extreme exhilaration and bliss. A not so happy day leaves me feeling empty and miserable. When a day feels empty, then I have reached for the things that I thought would make me happy. The addiction that gives short moments of bliss, only to steal the happiness and deliver emptiness.

Think about it, you can be the Caterpillar that feels miserable because she can’t crawl any more or happy because now she can fly.

Each new day is one more day to achieve a near perfect day. Want it. Reach for it!

Advertisements

Hug

It started with a hug.

After completing an interview for residency at the Grace House, Alice asked me for a hug. She didn’t ask if she was accepted. She just wanted a hug. I have always been a bit awkward doling out hugs. To me. . . I have to know you. I have to like you. You have to earn my hug. I stood for a frozen moment, after which I leaned in and provided a stiff, uncomfortable hug. Well, at least I thought so. Apparently Alice did not. Think so. She thanked me for the interview. She thanked me for listening. She thanked me for acceptance into the Grace House.

I’ve come to realize that many, if not most people in recovery freely give out hugs and “I love you’s”. At meetings there are hugs and loves flying all over the place. I am not a real active participant in this hug fest. Although, I am getting better. I have come to realize that sometimes all someone needs is a hug and maybe I’m the person to give it.

Alice needed more than a hug when she came to the Grace House. In fact, she needed a reason to stay just one more day. One day at a time. And after that one day at a time went stronger, she began to smile more, share more, see more. She felt more. Inside of which, she felt her reason to stay. She became the pillar of the Grace House. For sobriety. Inside of which, she knew what she had to do, and then? She just kept doing it.

After a very successful stay, Alice gave her notice. She was moving out. The sober house had met its purpose and now she was ready to move on. I helped her pack up her things. All set . All ready to go. Except for one thing…the hug. This time it was me asking for the hug.

Because it was earned. And because now? I needed it every bit as much as she did.

The New Normal

“How did this happen?”

That’s the question I asked myself this past summer when I was emerging from the drug and alcohol induced haze I had been in for the previous five months. After enjoying four and a half years of sobriety, I found myself (gratefully!) back in treatment. There is a distinct amount of shame and remorse that comes with a relapse … when I really believed it couldn’t happen to me. Nonetheless, having no more options and no money, I received scholarship funds to attend one of the state’s best treatment facilities. And, knowing I could not go “home”, I entered into one of the area’s best sober living facilities, the Grace House.

The last thing I wanted to do as a single, divorced, mean-girl disliking (seriously, major trust issues with ladies!) woman was to move into a house where I would be surrounded by three to five other women at any given time, with curfews and RULES. Heck, I had lived on my own for the past few years … but then again, look how that worked out for me! RELAPSE!

Living at Grace House was a wonderful decision for me. After losing everything in custody battles, divorce proceedings and job losses, I learned a thing or two about humility. I was. . for once in my life, GRATEFUL for the humble existence I enjoyed at the Grace House.

I found support: I was able to open up to other women, to ask for help and to form bonds. Now, don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always candles and pillow fights. There were some very dramatic times, and I am grateful for both the hard times and the good times. I learned that I could communicate my thoughts and feelings in appropriate ways and I learned not to run from conflict. I had never been able to have a disagreement with someone without feeling like we’d never be able to speak again. Being able to ask for help has never been easy for me, and I am sure it might not be for you either, but being able to say to another woman “Hey, I’m tired of talking tonight, but will you just sit with me?” … and they do? That’s a wonderful feeling. Lots of laughter, lots of tears and lots of people committed to sobriety and recovery.

After five months, it was time to move on from the Grace House. I am eternally grateful for my time there and for every experience I had. Living in a sober house after treatment truly saved my life. I would definitely have relapsed if I had returned “home”. So go ahead, put your trust in God as well as the wonderful family who owns Grace House; a place that truly wants to help women get back on their feet. A place that is willing to go to any lengths to help you in your recovery journey.

We all have today … and I am so grateful I had many “todays” at Grace House. Be well!

Aimee

Most Importantly

To You, 

I know it must be very difficult to be where you are right now so I thought these things might help brighten your day and let you know we are thinking about you and only sending positive thoughts and prayers your way.

Please know that we all face difficulties in life and we all have not been perfect.
As I think of you each day a few things keep running through my head that I really want to share with you. Although I have known you all of your life I know I don’t know you well, but it is in my heart to share these thoughts with you. Most importantly it is important for you to figure out who you are for yourself and not for anyone else. You don’t need a man in your life to make you whole, although finding someone who cares for you unselfishly is a great way to go through life.

You are not defined by who your parents are or are not. They have done the best they could for you and that is what matters. It is your turn now to find out what makes you truly happy-find out who you are, not someone else’s definition of who they think you should be. That is where your peace will be found.

You are loved by many and we all rejoice that you are on the path to find your way.

Love,
A friend

2-2-15

One more thing . . .

N, 

I’m that “one more thing” kinda gal. One more look before you leave. One more thing I need. One more thing I’m forgetting. The “one mores” of everything. I thought I could always choose that one more thing. Do that one more thing. Maybe you did too. 

But now I want to tell you one more thing.

“Stay. I want you to make more memories. Don’t worry, we’ll deal with the sad, give you power and illuminate the good.”

So, do that one more thing…make the good choice, put the bad choice down, and just stay.

G

Jump

There were so many times in my life when I had it all figured out.

It’s a big shit thing, to have it all figured out. Never mind the fact that it was chicken scratch math. Never mind the fact that the cosmos were laughing harder than a Robin Williams audience. Never mind the fact that I wasn’t seeing the reality because I was too busy believing the unreality.

And then? Reality came along and punched me in the face.

Time. And time. And time. And time. And time. And time. And time. And? Yeah, time. Again.

It was epic fail shit, squared. It felled me in every kind of undulating way, curvaceous shape and hellacious form. It beat me senseless, rendered me useless. It owned me. Yeah, plain ass fact of the matter, owned.

And so, you ask. How the hell do you get back? To anywhere? From that?

It’s a great fucking question. And the answer is hard to find, probably because the answer is inside you. And, as most of us have come to learn the hard way, the mirror can pose the longest of all possible odds. Possession is eleventh tenths of that law of human nature that says it’s you against you. And this is why you have to get selfish. You have to get solid on the idea that selfish? Is the abbreviation for self preservation.

Don’t get me wrong here. This doesn’t mean to say that it’s cool to go out and pillage the village you came from. Nah, ah. No. The wherever it is you came from is not asking for your shit. It doesn’t care about your shit. And in most cases? It doesn’t deserve your shit. The bad shit you came from is your hurdle. The answer that’s fighting like hell to rise above the surface are your legs. And so it goes, that your jumps are a matter of the belief and conviction that were borne out of the forgettable practice that went into possessing them.

You can let the bad shit own you, or you can own the bad shit your damn self.

It’s about making the jump count.