Anyone that tells you they have no regrets more than likely lacks the ability to truly learn from their past, to shape any type of future where they will be able to see their mistakes and missteps before they manifest in the sentient world.
Along the same lines, people that actively believe in redemption are those that continually operate inside an obsolete construct where the past is deleted like some poorly written paper for your English Composition class.
But revision, revision is real, and it is what destroys the addict and those around them - especially the ones they love the most.
When faced with the reality of the absence of redemption, we are faced with the question of whether or not damnation is removed from the equation by default. Unfortunately, this is not the case.
We are all damned to become those things we hate - even if for only a brief while. Sons become fathers that are quarantined in apartments no larger than 2 rooms. Daughters become the physically and mentally unstable mirrors of their mothers. Husbands become ex-husbands and wives turn on every "cherished value" they once claimed to hold in order to "feel" something new. We all become the demons that we spend our entire childhoods running from.
That shadow over by the closet, the faint breathing under the bed, the creaking inside the walls, that's not the boogeyman - that's you just biding it's time until it can come out.
Do I regret anything that I have done that brought me to where I am right now? Why should I? While some will claim that our lives are "pre-destined" - a concept that I have flirted with on more than one occasion - I tend to embrace more of the theory that we all have free will that dovetails with a pre-determined set of variables that will, hopefully, bring us to where we are most comfortable.
Call it the cynic in me, but no one is truly happy with the end station in life. But more on that later.
Back to this outdated and archaic notion of redemption.
In theological circles - most specifically the Judeo-Christian subset - this idea of redemption means that you are "washed clean" of all your misgivings and "sins". This old version of you now replaced with a new, updated, operating system that - while pure in the eyes of a select few - is still gifted with the ability, and possibly even the desire, to fall back into the same trappings that ensnared you before. You are, in essence, free to sin again, and again, and again. And each time, redemption is still an option. You can still end up writing that same shitty prose that you call your life.
The one aspect of addiction recovery that is most difficult to deal with - and something mentioned her before - is revision. In many ways, damnation and revision are one in the same. As addicts, we do our best to "revise" our lives in order to regain what we had lost, to attain what we dream for, and the remove what has poisoned us. But do we change so much that we are unrecognizable to ourselves, to our loved ones, to go through a metamorphosis so complete that we end up destroying rather than creating? The later is most likely seen in those the addict once had a close relationship with. A mother, a father, wife, child, brother, or sister.
Why does this revision occur?
I've recently become acquainted with the concept of "Liminal Time". In theory, this is where time slows to such a exponential degree that people, if able to manipulate it properly, can remove themselves from their particular station in life or placement on a given timeline and become someone else, even an earlier or later version of themselves.
What I have postulated is that in addiction recovery, their is a strain of "Liminal Time" where those around us subconsciously manipulate reality in order to validate their own actions, their own latent desires they dared not admit before, their new way of speaking. And in parallel, these twistings of the fabric of reality can and will invariably be used to maintain a set hierarchy - the addict will be viewed as the monster and those closest to him/her will be able to manipulate a whole host of systems in order to prevent those in recovery from advancing.
This is done because people in the modern world have lost the ability to communicate. We act out in ways that run contrary to the better angels of our nature in the name of vengeance, retribution, or some canted sense of honor and entitlement without concern for the outcome.
Spouses turn on one another with such ferocity and unchecked hatred that they lack the ability to see the systemic risk, the collateral damage. If one were to, say, believe in karma, this is the point at which the scales tip away from your favor without you even being able to see it.
People react in this way because they don't talk to one another. And that's precisely what it is, a reaction to a visceral emotion. People don't take the time to pause and see how what they are doing, what they are becoming, whom it affects, and how it will ultimately be their own undoing.
In the end, without the ability to truly see how addiction recovery can have such a visicitudinal effect on all parties involved, we will come to realize that there is no true happy ending to anything. We only have the ability to be comfortable with our own skin and those we want around us. Make no mistake, I'm not speaking of settling for one person, one job, one home, one town - I'm talking about making the choices that are going to prevent us from screwing up too much.
People are going to grow tired of one another eventually if we can't mend our ability to communicate. If we can talk about how radically changing our own lives will have a direct impact on those around us. If we can't take an honest look at our past and learn from it. If we can't grasp the very real concept that removing something from our field of vision doesn't make it disappear - that we are just refusing to acknowledge that it's there. If we can't do these very basic things, then husbands will grow tired of wives, wives will grow tired of new lovers, and children will grow tired of their parents.
So until that day where we finally wake up to what needs to be done, the only things any of us will be able to do is enjoy the silence..........
Friday, December 23, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Wishes Vs. Baited Breath
Over the course of the previous week, I have been meditating over several topics, the chief of which is whether or not those connected - directly or indirectly - to the recovering addict are hoping they do not fall into relapse or are doing nothing but placing bets at when it will happen so they might retain the lion share of the bragging rights amongst their fellows in said category.
My previous post has been met with some rather stiff consternation, so it would not surprise me if this post followed suit quite nicely. But with that being said, it is not, nor has it ever, been my desire to coax such responses from others. The contrary is quite what I'm looking for - people to take what I am postulating within this digital landscape and place it along their own notions, conceived within the confines of whatever their mental alignment may be at this point in their lives, in order to catalyze an internal ( and possibly an external ) debate that will challenge the very notion of addiction, recovery, and how Modern America has embraced 12-Step Culture.
With that out of the way, let us continue.........
The recovering addict is faced with the challenge of making sense of those that are actively hoping for them to make a recovery ( which is generally never a "full" one ) and those that simply can't be bothered with such aspects of life that don't directly concern them.
The former is a group - much like the previous post - that can be divided into a variety of categories. But for the sake of brevity, we will use two diametrically opposed groups that those in recovery must grapple with: those that will fight through recovery with us and those that will give up on us within a short timeline because they are too wrapped up in wanting us to fail.
Let's take these both on:
Like friends that we have that will stand shoulder to shoulder with us in a variety of scenarios, those that stand along with us within the recovery process are part of the "true friend" column. They offer us a place to stay, help us find employment if necessary, prevent us from purchasing or drinking alcohol, and even confront us in what some might perceive a vicious fashion. Then again, our family - if they are even worth their salt - could very well act in the same accord.
What I have discovered as part of my personal recovery is that family - in strictly the technical sense - won't always be there for you. There are far too many that are constrained by their own preconceived notions born of pop-culture referents that prefer to play the role of "moral advocate" rather than one that cares for anyone in recovery. More succinctly, they favor judgemental posturing in order to curry favor with a select few.
This, however, isn't exclusive to traditional families. It does extend, and quite easily, to those that we very well may have considered our closest confidants.
There are very few people in our lives that would actually step up and help us out when we face the toughest challenges of life. This isn't to say that those that we value as "friends" lack merit, but it must be stated in the most explicit and clear of terms that those we surround ourselves with at present will not be there for us "tomorrow".
So how do we distinguish between those that are simply waiting for us to fail and those that aren't? For each of us in recovery, this is a question that requires patience and internal reflection. In other words, we must get past our own insecurities in order to understand those around us.
Who are those around you that you trust?
Who are those around you that you don't trust?
Could it be that there are those within each category that could be transferred into the other when we disregard reactionary posturing?
Perhaps.
How are we, as recovering addicts, to determine what is faith, hope, and charity and what isn't? This should be an easy query to face, but that does not always hold true.
The danger that we face is the burning of proverbial bridges en masse in order to isolate ourselves. This is a typical defense mechanism of the recovering addict - lock yourself into a mode where no one can touch you and hopefully everything will work itself out.
This does not work.
One of the primary aspects of the recovery process is learning who will and who won't be a hindrance to us - be it familial bonds or otherwise.
But we, as recovering addicts, can't fool ourselves into thinking that any and all of our actions are without reproach when surrounded by those that truly believe that we can reach a level of healing that returns us to our better nature.
We cannot take for granted those that truly care. They are few and far between.
The real and palpable danger when dealing with those we believe have nothing more than a desire to revel in our failure - regardless of how great that failure might be - is how we disconnect ourselves from them. Do we confront them about their destructive machinations or do we cut all ties with them and do our best to learn from what has transpired? The truth is that each of us must face these challenges alone. And this is something that the followers of traditional 12-Step Culture will deny - that there are facets of recovery that are done on a singular level.
Make no mistake, there are those that may appear to wish for nothing but our destruction, but they lack the perspective on what it means to be an addict - regardless of your drug of choice. And while we may be tempted to part company with those, we must find that careful balance of being able to show them what it truly means to lack sufficient control mechanisms which would have kept us away from such destructive behavior and maintaining our own composure in order not to use again in the face of what appears to us to be the enemy of our sobriety.
Not everyone that we connected with over the years, both prior to our addiction and once we realized that we needed help, is there to aid and comfort us as a friend and an ally within the recovery process. Learning how to separate these two factions is one of the most challenging and painful aspects on the journey toward sobriety, and one that I struggle with constantly.
--------------------------------------------------------
Finding a track that works well with this post was the most difficult so far, but I think I nailed it:
Dagoba - The Things Within
My previous post has been met with some rather stiff consternation, so it would not surprise me if this post followed suit quite nicely. But with that being said, it is not, nor has it ever, been my desire to coax such responses from others. The contrary is quite what I'm looking for - people to take what I am postulating within this digital landscape and place it along their own notions, conceived within the confines of whatever their mental alignment may be at this point in their lives, in order to catalyze an internal ( and possibly an external ) debate that will challenge the very notion of addiction, recovery, and how Modern America has embraced 12-Step Culture.
With that out of the way, let us continue.........
The recovering addict is faced with the challenge of making sense of those that are actively hoping for them to make a recovery ( which is generally never a "full" one ) and those that simply can't be bothered with such aspects of life that don't directly concern them.
The former is a group - much like the previous post - that can be divided into a variety of categories. But for the sake of brevity, we will use two diametrically opposed groups that those in recovery must grapple with: those that will fight through recovery with us and those that will give up on us within a short timeline because they are too wrapped up in wanting us to fail.
Let's take these both on:
Like friends that we have that will stand shoulder to shoulder with us in a variety of scenarios, those that stand along with us within the recovery process are part of the "true friend" column. They offer us a place to stay, help us find employment if necessary, prevent us from purchasing or drinking alcohol, and even confront us in what some might perceive a vicious fashion. Then again, our family - if they are even worth their salt - could very well act in the same accord.
What I have discovered as part of my personal recovery is that family - in strictly the technical sense - won't always be there for you. There are far too many that are constrained by their own preconceived notions born of pop-culture referents that prefer to play the role of "moral advocate" rather than one that cares for anyone in recovery. More succinctly, they favor judgemental posturing in order to curry favor with a select few.
This, however, isn't exclusive to traditional families. It does extend, and quite easily, to those that we very well may have considered our closest confidants.
There are very few people in our lives that would actually step up and help us out when we face the toughest challenges of life. This isn't to say that those that we value as "friends" lack merit, but it must be stated in the most explicit and clear of terms that those we surround ourselves with at present will not be there for us "tomorrow".
So how do we distinguish between those that are simply waiting for us to fail and those that aren't? For each of us in recovery, this is a question that requires patience and internal reflection. In other words, we must get past our own insecurities in order to understand those around us.
Who are those around you that you trust?
Who are those around you that you don't trust?
Could it be that there are those within each category that could be transferred into the other when we disregard reactionary posturing?
Perhaps.
How are we, as recovering addicts, to determine what is faith, hope, and charity and what isn't? This should be an easy query to face, but that does not always hold true.
The danger that we face is the burning of proverbial bridges en masse in order to isolate ourselves. This is a typical defense mechanism of the recovering addict - lock yourself into a mode where no one can touch you and hopefully everything will work itself out.
This does not work.
One of the primary aspects of the recovery process is learning who will and who won't be a hindrance to us - be it familial bonds or otherwise.
But we, as recovering addicts, can't fool ourselves into thinking that any and all of our actions are without reproach when surrounded by those that truly believe that we can reach a level of healing that returns us to our better nature.
We cannot take for granted those that truly care. They are few and far between.
The real and palpable danger when dealing with those we believe have nothing more than a desire to revel in our failure - regardless of how great that failure might be - is how we disconnect ourselves from them. Do we confront them about their destructive machinations or do we cut all ties with them and do our best to learn from what has transpired? The truth is that each of us must face these challenges alone. And this is something that the followers of traditional 12-Step Culture will deny - that there are facets of recovery that are done on a singular level.
Make no mistake, there are those that may appear to wish for nothing but our destruction, but they lack the perspective on what it means to be an addict - regardless of your drug of choice. And while we may be tempted to part company with those, we must find that careful balance of being able to show them what it truly means to lack sufficient control mechanisms which would have kept us away from such destructive behavior and maintaining our own composure in order not to use again in the face of what appears to us to be the enemy of our sobriety.
Not everyone that we connected with over the years, both prior to our addiction and once we realized that we needed help, is there to aid and comfort us as a friend and an ally within the recovery process. Learning how to separate these two factions is one of the most challenging and painful aspects on the journey toward sobriety, and one that I struggle with constantly.
--------------------------------------------------------
Finding a track that works well with this post was the most difficult so far, but I think I nailed it:
Dagoba - The Things Within
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Sobriety, Conflict, And Influence
As the recovering addict claws and fights their way through each new day, they are likely to face new challenges - not the least of which is attempting to make amends for those that we had wronged. It is within this context that we, as alcoholics, have to look at two aspects of our new lifestyle of sobriety: Conflict and Influence.
Having covered much of this in previous entries from the perspective of conflict with others and how our previous influences have poisoned our ability to function, I feel it necessary to take an intellectually honest look at internal conflict and how the influence of others can be detrimental to the viewpoints of those that desired for us to be sober.
One of the struggles that the recovering addict will face - regardless of their substance of choice - is that they must gain mastery over what I have termed "the duality of space-time relationships". That is, those in recovery will find it equally difficult to show how their continued success is relevant to those that were the enablers in their previous lives as well as those that claimed to desire a sober existence for them.
The enablers can be divided into two categories - those that understand the need for a person's recovery based on their own latent desire for such, or that they wish to maintain some semblance of a relationship without compromising their own lifestyle. Both of these groups have their negative aspects as well as their positive ones. While the former can and have been shown to live vicariously through the sober lifestyle of their friends in order to validate a minimal aspect of their daily walk, the later can offer nothing more than rank hypocrisy and continue to be a subtle tempter.
But are the enablers really the ones that can be most harmful to the recovering addict? This question needs to be met with another - is the addict truly aware of those that have honest wishes when it comes to recovery? Moreover, are we surrounding ourselves with those that we can identify with or simply think we can?
Some of the addicts most intimate relationships may have been predicated on false pretenses - that their significant other could have simply been ignoring the usage purely because of their own inner conflicts and influences that should have been examined some time ago. It is this group that can be just as harmful to the recovering addict than anyone within the enabling set.
The problem that the addict will ultimately face is trying to mend an intimate relationship with someone that has severed said connection based not on their own better angels of nature but by succumbing to poisonous influence of others. The irony of this is that the sober partner has, in none too insignificant of ways, become their own struggling addict - the advice and suggestions of others outside their sphere of understanding being the drug of choice.
And unlike the addict being approached by those that utilize honest care and desire, it is unwise for the recovering addict to approach those they once shared an intimate connection with. This is due to to nature of each addiction and each individual recovery process. The addict that used a tangible substance has to resist temptation and understand the adverse affects of said tangible substance, while the "victim" of another person's addiction may have to face a recovery from an intangible substance that can be equally as devastating. And while both processes of recovery may dovetail, they are essentially two disparate acts that have to be faced by the individual.
If the addict in recovery attempts to show how they are progressing, the other may attempt to maintain some level of conflict due to the nature of being a victim of another's addiction. The best course of action is for the recovering addict to distance themselves as much as possible from a former intimate that has embraced the culture of victimhood as their own addictive substance. This sort of conflict could, and has, resulted in relapse of those in recovery.
So what does it mean to put away the things of one's past in order to resolve conflict? Does this constitute "running away"? I would wager that many that are outside viewers of addiction recovery would opt for the affirmative in this instance. The common colloquialism that "AA Is For Quitters" immediately springs to mind. This is something that the recovering addict and the two classifications of enablers need to not only accept but come to understand. The most difficult aspect of this area of recovery is that the addict, when faced with a loved one that has given in to outside influence that is against their better interest, will potentially have to dispose of a great deal of mental and emotional inventory.
Sobriety comes with a hefty price in many cases, and removing those that enabled us is not necessarily it. Seeing a loved one consumed by their own victimhood, due to poisonous influence and a desire to maintain conflict, can be a painful process to endure. But is the recovering addict simply falling prey to projection, that they are wanting to see those that pushed us away as a problematic aspect of our lives? This is certainly something that should not be discounted. This is the Catch 22 aspect of the "duality of space-time relationships". We, as addicts, could be wanting to expedite the recovery process to such a degree that we may be willing to offer excuses for other's behavior in favor of patients and careful understanding of the conflicts within ourselves.
---------------------------------------------------
Finding a track that encompassed the themes in this post was more difficult than I first imagined. How does one encapsulate the pain and confusion of attempting to do away with the things of the past that we once cared for in order to heal ourselves, and what happens when we give into temptation to hold onto them?
I think this song from Big Wreck works in a rather appropriate fashion:
Blown Wide Open
Having covered much of this in previous entries from the perspective of conflict with others and how our previous influences have poisoned our ability to function, I feel it necessary to take an intellectually honest look at internal conflict and how the influence of others can be detrimental to the viewpoints of those that desired for us to be sober.
One of the struggles that the recovering addict will face - regardless of their substance of choice - is that they must gain mastery over what I have termed "the duality of space-time relationships". That is, those in recovery will find it equally difficult to show how their continued success is relevant to those that were the enablers in their previous lives as well as those that claimed to desire a sober existence for them.
The enablers can be divided into two categories - those that understand the need for a person's recovery based on their own latent desire for such, or that they wish to maintain some semblance of a relationship without compromising their own lifestyle. Both of these groups have their negative aspects as well as their positive ones. While the former can and have been shown to live vicariously through the sober lifestyle of their friends in order to validate a minimal aspect of their daily walk, the later can offer nothing more than rank hypocrisy and continue to be a subtle tempter.
But are the enablers really the ones that can be most harmful to the recovering addict? This question needs to be met with another - is the addict truly aware of those that have honest wishes when it comes to recovery? Moreover, are we surrounding ourselves with those that we can identify with or simply think we can?
Some of the addicts most intimate relationships may have been predicated on false pretenses - that their significant other could have simply been ignoring the usage purely because of their own inner conflicts and influences that should have been examined some time ago. It is this group that can be just as harmful to the recovering addict than anyone within the enabling set.
The problem that the addict will ultimately face is trying to mend an intimate relationship with someone that has severed said connection based not on their own better angels of nature but by succumbing to poisonous influence of others. The irony of this is that the sober partner has, in none too insignificant of ways, become their own struggling addict - the advice and suggestions of others outside their sphere of understanding being the drug of choice.
And unlike the addict being approached by those that utilize honest care and desire, it is unwise for the recovering addict to approach those they once shared an intimate connection with. This is due to to nature of each addiction and each individual recovery process. The addict that used a tangible substance has to resist temptation and understand the adverse affects of said tangible substance, while the "victim" of another person's addiction may have to face a recovery from an intangible substance that can be equally as devastating. And while both processes of recovery may dovetail, they are essentially two disparate acts that have to be faced by the individual.
If the addict in recovery attempts to show how they are progressing, the other may attempt to maintain some level of conflict due to the nature of being a victim of another's addiction. The best course of action is for the recovering addict to distance themselves as much as possible from a former intimate that has embraced the culture of victimhood as their own addictive substance. This sort of conflict could, and has, resulted in relapse of those in recovery.
So what does it mean to put away the things of one's past in order to resolve conflict? Does this constitute "running away"? I would wager that many that are outside viewers of addiction recovery would opt for the affirmative in this instance. The common colloquialism that "AA Is For Quitters" immediately springs to mind. This is something that the recovering addict and the two classifications of enablers need to not only accept but come to understand. The most difficult aspect of this area of recovery is that the addict, when faced with a loved one that has given in to outside influence that is against their better interest, will potentially have to dispose of a great deal of mental and emotional inventory.
Sobriety comes with a hefty price in many cases, and removing those that enabled us is not necessarily it. Seeing a loved one consumed by their own victimhood, due to poisonous influence and a desire to maintain conflict, can be a painful process to endure. But is the recovering addict simply falling prey to projection, that they are wanting to see those that pushed us away as a problematic aspect of our lives? This is certainly something that should not be discounted. This is the Catch 22 aspect of the "duality of space-time relationships". We, as addicts, could be wanting to expedite the recovery process to such a degree that we may be willing to offer excuses for other's behavior in favor of patients and careful understanding of the conflicts within ourselves.
---------------------------------------------------
Finding a track that encompassed the themes in this post was more difficult than I first imagined. How does one encapsulate the pain and confusion of attempting to do away with the things of the past that we once cared for in order to heal ourselves, and what happens when we give into temptation to hold onto them?
I think this song from Big Wreck works in a rather appropriate fashion:
Blown Wide Open
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Idle Hands And Racing Thoughts
One of the less desirable aspects of recovery is having to deal with previous actions. In my case, hitting bottom meant a DUI, having to remain in jail for 5 days, and losing my job. And while those repercussions can be reconciled with time and effort, the loss of family and home can be and all too often are the most devastating to the recovering addict.
My case is no exception, as all the above mentioned are rolled into a singularity. I have lost it all.
There was a project that was done during my stint in rehab that required the individual to chose one item from a series of 10 that represented what was most important to them. Of all listed, I chose family. And in light of my relapse, I have to ask why it was that I apparently ignored that which was most dear to me.
The addict, whether it be alcohol as in my case, has a great deal of time on their hands once they have been put into a situation where they may not be able to move about freely in society due to loss of licence or incarceration. This creates an atmosphere where time almost literally slows to a crawl, but their thought processes are amplified to the Nth degree. They seemingly have nothing to do but reflect on the past, their addiction, and what it cost them.
It is within this context that the recovering addict has to find a balance within themselves - as spending too much time wondering where it all went wrong and postulating on what could or couldn't have been done will ultimately lead to the temptation to use again.
I have experienced this, and still do on many occasions.
12-Step Culture will tell the recovering addict that they have to move on to Step 2:
Considering the particular dogma that 12-Step Culture operates with, it's almost as if Step 1 and Step 2 are in contradiction with one another to more than a slight degree.
The first Step tells those in recovery that their drug of choice wields a power greater than them, and then promptly tells them in Step 2 that they must find a power greater than themselves in order to find some semblance of sanity.
Perhaps it is my own reasoning skills, flawed though they have been over time, but far too many addicts - whatever their drug of choice is - get caught into a continuing spiral of usage because of the interconnectedness of Steps 1 and 2. The addict, perhaps fresh off of heavy usage, lacks the ability to understand the circular logical that that is threaded through each of the "Steps".
It is with this - the radically shifting thought processes of the addict - in mind that we have to understand that the old adage about "idle hands" rings true. If the addict, through honest recovery, wishes to find someone or something to assist them, they need to only look at their past - what they did prior to full blown addiction - and to their future - what they wish to hold onto that hadn't enabled them in their usage - to see what is "greater than themselves".
This is no easy task, even though 12-Step Culture has structured their intended goals to appear as such, as the addict must be able to choose for themselves what to use as their specific recovery tool. It can be the addicts children, their wife or husband, their friends that were not users, or even that small, still voice inside them that helped them move forward with a given goal or set of goals.
My personal recovery tool is writing. The purging of thoughts and emotions onto a digital landscape allows me to reflect on the immediacy of my disease and how remaining on the path of sobriety shouldn't be compromised. But this is not without it's own unique set of obstacles.
Balance, above all, is what the recovering addict needs. They may need to, like many have, remove themselves to such a degree where culture shock is induced. This could be in the form of moving in with family, living in an apartment in a new town, or even a new state. Environment is important to those in recovery, as remaining stagnant and in a location that causes the resurgence of poisonous memories can and has resulted into further relapse.
Movement, both literal and metaphorical, is one of the most effective tool in true recovery. At times, we have to realize that our true and honest goals, our healthy desires, are the power that we need to hold onto. Searching for that person that we used to be is certainly a power that can lift us from addiction.
------------------------------
This track from TOOL has always spoken to me in a special way. The shadow - at least the concept of the malevolent shadow - is a perfect descriptor of what has slowly eaten away my life.
My case is no exception, as all the above mentioned are rolled into a singularity. I have lost it all.
There was a project that was done during my stint in rehab that required the individual to chose one item from a series of 10 that represented what was most important to them. Of all listed, I chose family. And in light of my relapse, I have to ask why it was that I apparently ignored that which was most dear to me.
The addict, whether it be alcohol as in my case, has a great deal of time on their hands once they have been put into a situation where they may not be able to move about freely in society due to loss of licence or incarceration. This creates an atmosphere where time almost literally slows to a crawl, but their thought processes are amplified to the Nth degree. They seemingly have nothing to do but reflect on the past, their addiction, and what it cost them.
It is within this context that the recovering addict has to find a balance within themselves - as spending too much time wondering where it all went wrong and postulating on what could or couldn't have been done will ultimately lead to the temptation to use again.
I have experienced this, and still do on many occasions.
12-Step Culture will tell the recovering addict that they have to move on to Step 2:
Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity
Considering the particular dogma that 12-Step Culture operates with, it's almost as if Step 1 and Step 2 are in contradiction with one another to more than a slight degree.
The first Step tells those in recovery that their drug of choice wields a power greater than them, and then promptly tells them in Step 2 that they must find a power greater than themselves in order to find some semblance of sanity.
Perhaps it is my own reasoning skills, flawed though they have been over time, but far too many addicts - whatever their drug of choice is - get caught into a continuing spiral of usage because of the interconnectedness of Steps 1 and 2. The addict, perhaps fresh off of heavy usage, lacks the ability to understand the circular logical that that is threaded through each of the "Steps".
It is with this - the radically shifting thought processes of the addict - in mind that we have to understand that the old adage about "idle hands" rings true. If the addict, through honest recovery, wishes to find someone or something to assist them, they need to only look at their past - what they did prior to full blown addiction - and to their future - what they wish to hold onto that hadn't enabled them in their usage - to see what is "greater than themselves".
This is no easy task, even though 12-Step Culture has structured their intended goals to appear as such, as the addict must be able to choose for themselves what to use as their specific recovery tool. It can be the addicts children, their wife or husband, their friends that were not users, or even that small, still voice inside them that helped them move forward with a given goal or set of goals.
My personal recovery tool is writing. The purging of thoughts and emotions onto a digital landscape allows me to reflect on the immediacy of my disease and how remaining on the path of sobriety shouldn't be compromised. But this is not without it's own unique set of obstacles.
Balance, above all, is what the recovering addict needs. They may need to, like many have, remove themselves to such a degree where culture shock is induced. This could be in the form of moving in with family, living in an apartment in a new town, or even a new state. Environment is important to those in recovery, as remaining stagnant and in a location that causes the resurgence of poisonous memories can and has resulted into further relapse.
Movement, both literal and metaphorical, is one of the most effective tool in true recovery. At times, we have to realize that our true and honest goals, our healthy desires, are the power that we need to hold onto. Searching for that person that we used to be is certainly a power that can lift us from addiction.
------------------------------
This track from TOOL has always spoken to me in a special way. The shadow - at least the concept of the malevolent shadow - is a perfect descriptor of what has slowly eaten away my life.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Metamorphosis And Medicated States
In Kafka's premiere work of short fiction, the reader is shown the trials of Gregor Samasa, who has mysteriously been transformed into a hideous insect sometime during the night:
In many ways, Gregor's transformation and his struggles with his family closely mirror many of the tribulations faced by the addict, and my alcoholism is no exception. But those that chose recovery face a new metamorphosis - both within themselves and around them in those that they have wronged.
To further tie in the themes in Kafka with my own particular path, the idea of a metamorphosis can be viewed through a variety of lenses. The first example is a renewal of time. Most specifically is one's birthday - of which today is my 36th.
The very concept of a birthday brings to mind a renewal of sorts, that time has gifted each of us the opportunity to live another year and make the necessary steps that will allow us to either travel along the path of progress or to simply stagnate. The recovering addict, if choosing progress, must face multiple obstacles, including the potential metamorphosis of others as well as within themselves.
However, the question must be asked - are others truly changing in an opposing direction in stark contract with the addict?
To answer this, we have to reconcile the difference between perception and perspective. While our perceptions are colored by our given position in life ( like an addict believing that the world is against them because they show concern for their usage and want them to make a complete and honest recovery ) if we lack proper perspective, our assumptions are rendered moot.
In my own personal experience, I have seen some of those closest to me change the manner in which they speak ( both to me as well as others ) to the way that they carry themselves in even the simplest of physical mannerism. This can be explained due to how the addict has treated them and their own emotional states. It's understandable that a person that has been taken advantage of by a particular addict is want to remove themselves from extensive interaction with someone in the early stages of recovery, but they can also fall victim to a metamorphic state where they are putting themselves into a very specific danger. This is not to state that they are doing this willingly, but that their defense mechanism can very easily override their better and honest judgement.
This does not end with the person that spent extensive amounts of time struggling with the addict, as their own change in self becomes a struggle for the recovering addict. They, being the addict, may be trying mend the wounds of the past, to admit their missteps, but those that were victim to the addict's actions can "self-medicate" to such a degree with their conscious and unconscious defense mechanisms that they have hampered their own healing process.
Conversely, the recovering addict runs the risk of being all too willing to accept such overly heightened defense tactics as reality - thereby derailing their own healing metamorphosis. A good example of this would be someone telling the recovering addict that their sobriety is meaningless, or that time spent together with them, prior to full-throated and unchecked usage, doesn't play a part in their memory any longer. When someone in recovery hears these things, they should understand that this could well be the course of recovering from victimhood due to the addict's actions.
Change, as we all should realize, can be both positive and negative. And within the confines of addiction recovery, all parties involved ( both the addict and those that had previously interacted with them ) have to be mindful of the nuances contained within each prospective path. My own personal journey has revealed to me that the self-imposed medicated states ( through conscious and unconscious defense mechanisms ) can create a mosaic that can be quite difficult to navigate on any given day.
As each of us move through our particular station in life ( the addict and their recovery and the victim and their need to understand the addict's recovery ) we begin to see how change, or metamorphosis, is not always positive in nature but certainly not always negative. It is only through honest and open communication that all parties involved can begin anything closely resembling a healing process - which can take years. It is from that point that patience, above all, must be exercised.
-------------------------------
Sometimes, a given musical component to our daily lives can appear in the most unlikely of places. I wasn't even close to considering Black Sabbath as the coda to this post, but is fits so well that I had no choice:
Black Sabbath - Changes
As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect-like creature. He was lying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes.
In many ways, Gregor's transformation and his struggles with his family closely mirror many of the tribulations faced by the addict, and my alcoholism is no exception. But those that chose recovery face a new metamorphosis - both within themselves and around them in those that they have wronged.
To further tie in the themes in Kafka with my own particular path, the idea of a metamorphosis can be viewed through a variety of lenses. The first example is a renewal of time. Most specifically is one's birthday - of which today is my 36th.
The very concept of a birthday brings to mind a renewal of sorts, that time has gifted each of us the opportunity to live another year and make the necessary steps that will allow us to either travel along the path of progress or to simply stagnate. The recovering addict, if choosing progress, must face multiple obstacles, including the potential metamorphosis of others as well as within themselves.
However, the question must be asked - are others truly changing in an opposing direction in stark contract with the addict?
To answer this, we have to reconcile the difference between perception and perspective. While our perceptions are colored by our given position in life ( like an addict believing that the world is against them because they show concern for their usage and want them to make a complete and honest recovery ) if we lack proper perspective, our assumptions are rendered moot.
In my own personal experience, I have seen some of those closest to me change the manner in which they speak ( both to me as well as others ) to the way that they carry themselves in even the simplest of physical mannerism. This can be explained due to how the addict has treated them and their own emotional states. It's understandable that a person that has been taken advantage of by a particular addict is want to remove themselves from extensive interaction with someone in the early stages of recovery, but they can also fall victim to a metamorphic state where they are putting themselves into a very specific danger. This is not to state that they are doing this willingly, but that their defense mechanism can very easily override their better and honest judgement.
This does not end with the person that spent extensive amounts of time struggling with the addict, as their own change in self becomes a struggle for the recovering addict. They, being the addict, may be trying mend the wounds of the past, to admit their missteps, but those that were victim to the addict's actions can "self-medicate" to such a degree with their conscious and unconscious defense mechanisms that they have hampered their own healing process.
Conversely, the recovering addict runs the risk of being all too willing to accept such overly heightened defense tactics as reality - thereby derailing their own healing metamorphosis. A good example of this would be someone telling the recovering addict that their sobriety is meaningless, or that time spent together with them, prior to full-throated and unchecked usage, doesn't play a part in their memory any longer. When someone in recovery hears these things, they should understand that this could well be the course of recovering from victimhood due to the addict's actions.
Change, as we all should realize, can be both positive and negative. And within the confines of addiction recovery, all parties involved ( both the addict and those that had previously interacted with them ) have to be mindful of the nuances contained within each prospective path. My own personal journey has revealed to me that the self-imposed medicated states ( through conscious and unconscious defense mechanisms ) can create a mosaic that can be quite difficult to navigate on any given day.
As each of us move through our particular station in life ( the addict and their recovery and the victim and their need to understand the addict's recovery ) we begin to see how change, or metamorphosis, is not always positive in nature but certainly not always negative. It is only through honest and open communication that all parties involved can begin anything closely resembling a healing process - which can take years. It is from that point that patience, above all, must be exercised.
-------------------------------
Sometimes, a given musical component to our daily lives can appear in the most unlikely of places. I wasn't even close to considering Black Sabbath as the coda to this post, but is fits so well that I had no choice:
Black Sabbath - Changes
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
The Lexicon Of Confession
How we communicate with one another is important. But how we communicate with one another can be hampered by our own individual, expectational, nature. It is with this in mind - what one expects and what one delivers within the confines of a given communicational form - that we have to examine how the nature of confession, addiction, and communication present a unique challenge from the perspective of the addict.
As someone dealing with alcoholism, I find that each individual that I speak with about this addiction responds to particular form of communication variables. Those responses range from the most understanding to the lower registers of negative. The addict does not have the luxury of expectations - aside from expecting the unexpected - so honest communication is paramount.
But what of those that the addict is communicating with? All too often, they are the ones that are more likely to expect something specific from the addict - that is if they feel that they have been wronged in some way.
Before attempting to communicate with those around them, the addict must first learn to communicate honestly and openly with themselves. This was one of the most difficult things for me to accomplish in my own right, as I had become so accustomed to hiding my drinking from those closest to me. I knew that I enjoyed drinking, but didn't realize that that enjoyment was taken one step too far.
In '12 Step Culture', the first "step" reads as such:
This is the only of the alleged "12-steps" that is both honest and understandable within the context of addiction and recovery. It is the starting point for open and honest communication that the addict has with themselves and those around them.
But is the addict truly powerless? Do they have no recourse? Can they not reclaim their life? Of course they can. "12 Step Culture" even says they can - so long as they follow a pre-determined path that removed individuality and sense of self.
When I began to come to terms with my problem with alcohol, I knew that at some point I would have to speak with someone about it. My first experience came during an AA meeting at a local "recovery center" in my community back in the late spring. It didn't go as well as I had planned.
My very first attempt at communicating my feelings and concerns regarding my struggle with alcohol were met with quite judgement - something I never thought would occur at a group meeting that was allegedly designed to aid in the recovery process. One isn't filled with the sense of acceptance and understanding from other addicts struggling with their own demons when it is revealed that they believe that your experience isn't visceral enough.
And this was what stuck with me up until the day that I left for rehab. Even then, I was filled with a sense of dread that what lay ahead of me would be no different, that my inability and my concern would be met with derision and abject rejection. The reality of what I was to experience in rehad was an awakening. It was an awakening to the reality that only I had the power to change my ways, to take control of my own life, and that the program was designed to turn me into a faceless simulacrum - just another person at a 12-Step meeting who's story would likely be ignored by the person next to them that had swallowed whole the same dogma.
When I knew that I would have to, at some point, begin discussing my addiction and doing my best to make ammends for all the wrong I had done, I began to wonder if I would be met with the same skepticism that was tossed at me from the start of my recovery journey. Would I be summarily dismissed like so many testimonials at thousands of AA meeting across the country? Was I to be just another in a long line of excuse mongers that wished their lives could be turned around while wrapped in the cloak of "but I'm going to meetings"?
I refused to be that person. But confessing was not to be so easy with everyone.
What happens when the addict is met with the demand that his language be modified to met the expectations of those that he is attempting to make amends with? What happens if the addict does so and it runs contrary to their belief in not only themselves but in their very recovery? Are they obligated to do so simply because of their misteps and wrong-doings? This is no easy set of questions to answer. But what is paramount is that honesty not be compromised for the sake of pre-arranged syntax by outside forces.
It wasn't as difficult to explain things to my late Grandmother as I had once thought. The same is true for my mother, my brother, and other members of my immediate family. But what is still a continuing struggle is to allow people the opportunity to understand that I cannot and will not abide by "12-Step Culture". And this has caused quite the rift - or exponentially increased an already existing one - among several people that I care deeply for.
I know of only one way to continue my recovery, and that is to be the person that I was before I let the drink dilute my personality. That most certainly includes the way that I communicate.
---------------------------------------
I was struggling with a song to place here, but after I quit trying so hard I knew precisely what worked.
Pink Floyd - Keep Talking:
As someone dealing with alcoholism, I find that each individual that I speak with about this addiction responds to particular form of communication variables. Those responses range from the most understanding to the lower registers of negative. The addict does not have the luxury of expectations - aside from expecting the unexpected - so honest communication is paramount.
But what of those that the addict is communicating with? All too often, they are the ones that are more likely to expect something specific from the addict - that is if they feel that they have been wronged in some way.
Before attempting to communicate with those around them, the addict must first learn to communicate honestly and openly with themselves. This was one of the most difficult things for me to accomplish in my own right, as I had become so accustomed to hiding my drinking from those closest to me. I knew that I enjoyed drinking, but didn't realize that that enjoyment was taken one step too far.
In '12 Step Culture', the first "step" reads as such:
We admitted we were powerless over our addiction - that our lives had become unmanageable.
This is the only of the alleged "12-steps" that is both honest and understandable within the context of addiction and recovery. It is the starting point for open and honest communication that the addict has with themselves and those around them.
But is the addict truly powerless? Do they have no recourse? Can they not reclaim their life? Of course they can. "12 Step Culture" even says they can - so long as they follow a pre-determined path that removed individuality and sense of self.
When I began to come to terms with my problem with alcohol, I knew that at some point I would have to speak with someone about it. My first experience came during an AA meeting at a local "recovery center" in my community back in the late spring. It didn't go as well as I had planned.
My very first attempt at communicating my feelings and concerns regarding my struggle with alcohol were met with quite judgement - something I never thought would occur at a group meeting that was allegedly designed to aid in the recovery process. One isn't filled with the sense of acceptance and understanding from other addicts struggling with their own demons when it is revealed that they believe that your experience isn't visceral enough.
And this was what stuck with me up until the day that I left for rehab. Even then, I was filled with a sense of dread that what lay ahead of me would be no different, that my inability and my concern would be met with derision and abject rejection. The reality of what I was to experience in rehad was an awakening. It was an awakening to the reality that only I had the power to change my ways, to take control of my own life, and that the program was designed to turn me into a faceless simulacrum - just another person at a 12-Step meeting who's story would likely be ignored by the person next to them that had swallowed whole the same dogma.
When I knew that I would have to, at some point, begin discussing my addiction and doing my best to make ammends for all the wrong I had done, I began to wonder if I would be met with the same skepticism that was tossed at me from the start of my recovery journey. Would I be summarily dismissed like so many testimonials at thousands of AA meeting across the country? Was I to be just another in a long line of excuse mongers that wished their lives could be turned around while wrapped in the cloak of "but I'm going to meetings"?
I refused to be that person. But confessing was not to be so easy with everyone.
What happens when the addict is met with the demand that his language be modified to met the expectations of those that he is attempting to make amends with? What happens if the addict does so and it runs contrary to their belief in not only themselves but in their very recovery? Are they obligated to do so simply because of their misteps and wrong-doings? This is no easy set of questions to answer. But what is paramount is that honesty not be compromised for the sake of pre-arranged syntax by outside forces.
It wasn't as difficult to explain things to my late Grandmother as I had once thought. The same is true for my mother, my brother, and other members of my immediate family. But what is still a continuing struggle is to allow people the opportunity to understand that I cannot and will not abide by "12-Step Culture". And this has caused quite the rift - or exponentially increased an already existing one - among several people that I care deeply for.
I know of only one way to continue my recovery, and that is to be the person that I was before I let the drink dilute my personality. That most certainly includes the way that I communicate.
---------------------------------------
I was struggling with a song to place here, but after I quit trying so hard I knew precisely what worked.
Pink Floyd - Keep Talking:
Monday, September 19, 2011
Lost In The Translation Of The Past
There's a semi-recognizable quotation that reads as such - The Past Is Prologue.
Considering that our past is supposed to aid in shaping us into the people that we are to become, I find myself reviewing my particular 35 year path and positing a series of questions:
What would happen if I removed even the most miniscule of of events?
Why do I feel this sense of nostalgia for moments in time that ultimately hurt me?
The final question reminds me of Frank Zappa's theory for how the world will end - with an ever-growing, collective, desire for things of the past. More explicitly, as an exponentially growing number people pine for moments in time that happen closer and closer to their relative placement in space-time, we will eventually long for things that happened mere moments prior until there is nothing left to be nostaligic for. At that point, the human race will no longer have any need to exist.
As someone with an addiction, I all too often find myself reviewing those moments where I was placed into a situation that caused me to use a particular substance. Whether it be chemicals or drink, I have realized that each instance has been catalyst that has propelled me to this exact moment. But did it have a purpose? By that, were all the moments that I used individual pieces of a broader puzzle that would bring me to where I am now?
People are want to say that "things happen for a reason", but it is the reason that I find myself struggling with.
Taking a mental inventory, I realize that my usage of some of the more harsh chemical substances found across the landscape of the South lead me to abandon a specific subset of "friends", move back to my hometown, meet new people, and start a family of my own. The only caveat to that is that I had failed to moderate the one thing that I never imagined would be my undoing.
It is from this point where I get to asking myself what I would do had I never taken up drinking in the first place.
There are a multitude on incidents and occurances that I would prefer to have wiped from my past - some due to the complete and unblushing embarassment factor and others because I ended up simply hurting myself physically. But how would that affect my place in the landscape of existence now?
Altering ones past, even by the tiniest of degrees, would ultimately cause a paradox in their current plane of existence. To put it another way, had I not started drinking, I very well may have ended up a cross-dressing treasure hunter in Southeast Asia. And while that may sound ridiculous, one has to understand that altering one event has a systemic effect on everything that happens after it.
I am attempting to come to terms with the fact that there are more than enough reasons for me to NOT desire to change my past than there are reason to do so.
One of the most difficult things to deal with, from an emotional perspective, is the fact that I have so many pictures of great times from my past. I'm a very visual person and a very emotional one. When these personal traits meet with outside stimuli like a picture of a house party I threw during college, an image on my computer of me DJing at a packed club in Nashville, or even a family portrait, it triggers those moments of nostalgia and a desire to change even the most recent past.
In "12 Step Culture", there are various atrifacts/emotive states in everyday life that are referred to as "triggers" - meaning that any and all contact with them will ultimate end with usage of the "drug" of choice. The only problem with this is that 12-Step programs reinforce the idea of "triggers" to the point where a Pavlovian Response is generated. More sucinctly, a person deal with addiction is instructed to list no less than 25 individual "triggers" as part of a given therapy packet during rehab. That particular person may simply be drawing from memories of whom/what was in their immediate vicinity during usage. It's highly likely that most of these( or at least a plurality ) did not contribute directly to the usage itself. It's this aspect of "12-Step Culture" where the therapist is trying to convince the addict that they aren't the ones solely controlling their usage, but it's outside influences that bear a brunt of the blame.
For example, a councelor recently stated to me that he would not drink Sprite because it was a "trigger". Some have even gone so far as to say that driving a particular way home from work constituted a trigger for them. Others have even stated that certain words or inanimate objects are "triggers" for their drug of choice.
If an addict manages to convince themselves that they have no control over these "triggers", then they are removing themselves from almost all accountability for their usage and the actions that occur afterward.
During rehab, I found myself writing out a list of "triggers" that included places, people, and objects. As I put more honest analysis into my list - which came nowhere close to the minimum that was required by the assigned treatment - I began to realize that my usage was no more elevated by these than any other outside stimuli. I was equally as likely to drink had none of these been within my proximity. A picture of old friends, a recording of a radio program I hosted, or even a favorite film of the past had no verifiable affect on my desire to drink versus playing new tracks on my turntables or cooking a dish that I learned from my father. "Triggers" are only as strong as the addict allows them to be.
It has taken some time, but I am becoming quite comforted with what has happened to me in the past. There are many people that I have reconnected with over the last few years that some addicts would consider "triggers", but it has generated the opposite effect - I have gained a deeper understand of specific areas of my past that I had once used as an excuse to use. These people - and the experiences shared with them or because of them - were not to be "triggers" for me, but effective tools for recovery.
With the ideas of the past, "triggers", and emotions in mind, the perfect track to end this post would be this:
The Cure - Pictures Of You
Considering that our past is supposed to aid in shaping us into the people that we are to become, I find myself reviewing my particular 35 year path and positing a series of questions:
What would happen if I removed even the most miniscule of of events?
Why do I feel this sense of nostalgia for moments in time that ultimately hurt me?
The final question reminds me of Frank Zappa's theory for how the world will end - with an ever-growing, collective, desire for things of the past. More explicitly, as an exponentially growing number people pine for moments in time that happen closer and closer to their relative placement in space-time, we will eventually long for things that happened mere moments prior until there is nothing left to be nostaligic for. At that point, the human race will no longer have any need to exist.
As someone with an addiction, I all too often find myself reviewing those moments where I was placed into a situation that caused me to use a particular substance. Whether it be chemicals or drink, I have realized that each instance has been catalyst that has propelled me to this exact moment. But did it have a purpose? By that, were all the moments that I used individual pieces of a broader puzzle that would bring me to where I am now?
People are want to say that "things happen for a reason", but it is the reason that I find myself struggling with.
Taking a mental inventory, I realize that my usage of some of the more harsh chemical substances found across the landscape of the South lead me to abandon a specific subset of "friends", move back to my hometown, meet new people, and start a family of my own. The only caveat to that is that I had failed to moderate the one thing that I never imagined would be my undoing.
It is from this point where I get to asking myself what I would do had I never taken up drinking in the first place.
There are a multitude on incidents and occurances that I would prefer to have wiped from my past - some due to the complete and unblushing embarassment factor and others because I ended up simply hurting myself physically. But how would that affect my place in the landscape of existence now?
Altering ones past, even by the tiniest of degrees, would ultimately cause a paradox in their current plane of existence. To put it another way, had I not started drinking, I very well may have ended up a cross-dressing treasure hunter in Southeast Asia. And while that may sound ridiculous, one has to understand that altering one event has a systemic effect on everything that happens after it.
I am attempting to come to terms with the fact that there are more than enough reasons for me to NOT desire to change my past than there are reason to do so.
One of the most difficult things to deal with, from an emotional perspective, is the fact that I have so many pictures of great times from my past. I'm a very visual person and a very emotional one. When these personal traits meet with outside stimuli like a picture of a house party I threw during college, an image on my computer of me DJing at a packed club in Nashville, or even a family portrait, it triggers those moments of nostalgia and a desire to change even the most recent past.
In "12 Step Culture", there are various atrifacts/emotive states in everyday life that are referred to as "triggers" - meaning that any and all contact with them will ultimate end with usage of the "drug" of choice. The only problem with this is that 12-Step programs reinforce the idea of "triggers" to the point where a Pavlovian Response is generated. More sucinctly, a person deal with addiction is instructed to list no less than 25 individual "triggers" as part of a given therapy packet during rehab. That particular person may simply be drawing from memories of whom/what was in their immediate vicinity during usage. It's highly likely that most of these( or at least a plurality ) did not contribute directly to the usage itself. It's this aspect of "12-Step Culture" where the therapist is trying to convince the addict that they aren't the ones solely controlling their usage, but it's outside influences that bear a brunt of the blame.
For example, a councelor recently stated to me that he would not drink Sprite because it was a "trigger". Some have even gone so far as to say that driving a particular way home from work constituted a trigger for them. Others have even stated that certain words or inanimate objects are "triggers" for their drug of choice.
If an addict manages to convince themselves that they have no control over these "triggers", then they are removing themselves from almost all accountability for their usage and the actions that occur afterward.
During rehab, I found myself writing out a list of "triggers" that included places, people, and objects. As I put more honest analysis into my list - which came nowhere close to the minimum that was required by the assigned treatment - I began to realize that my usage was no more elevated by these than any other outside stimuli. I was equally as likely to drink had none of these been within my proximity. A picture of old friends, a recording of a radio program I hosted, or even a favorite film of the past had no verifiable affect on my desire to drink versus playing new tracks on my turntables or cooking a dish that I learned from my father. "Triggers" are only as strong as the addict allows them to be.
It has taken some time, but I am becoming quite comforted with what has happened to me in the past. There are many people that I have reconnected with over the last few years that some addicts would consider "triggers", but it has generated the opposite effect - I have gained a deeper understand of specific areas of my past that I had once used as an excuse to use. These people - and the experiences shared with them or because of them - were not to be "triggers" for me, but effective tools for recovery.
With the ideas of the past, "triggers", and emotions in mind, the perfect track to end this post would be this:
The Cure - Pictures Of You
Friday, September 16, 2011
Hi, My Name Is......
My name is Airon Later and............no, wait, let's start this off right.
I am not Airon Later. Airon has been, and always will be, a fictional character that I just happen to have created over 15 years ago as a way to seem much more interesting than the person I actually am.
My name is Brandon, and I have a problem with staying sober for extended periods of time.
At this point, I'm sure you're wondering to yourself, "Hey, Brandon, aren't you supposed to say 'My name is Brandon and I'm an alcoholic'"?
While this would be true in a more traditional setting, I feel that the visual that is conjoured in the audiences mind when they hear the term 'alcoholic' is one of a person that is consistently drunk - literally waking up and reaching for that bottle that rests on their nightstand and consuming every hour of the day, occationally blacking out, stumbling, slurring, and finally passing out somewhere around dusk only to repeat the cycle again.
I would be remiss to admit that there are people such as this. However, I do not fit this catagory, so the term 'alcoholic' will be used sparingly and with clearly defined terms within the text that you will find here.
So what is this blog all about then? Let's take stock to find out......
Have I lost my job? Yep.
Have I lost my family? Pretty sure that's the case too.
Have I lost my home? Yes.
Seeing as how I have lost the three main things in my life that have given me purpose, there is only one thing left for me to do - confess. I have to confess to everything that has brought me here, admit that I need help, and try and share my experience with someone that might need to take the same path that I am.
But before we really get into the blood and guts of this, I think I should explain the title of this blog.
12 Step Programs, at least traditional ones, do not work. I don't care how many editions of the so-called AA "Big Book" have been printed, the basic premise of a 12-Step Program is doomed to failure from the outset. To wit, I have titled this blog as not only a rejection of such a system, but to show that even though I tried to abide by it's alleged norms, I was both viewed as an outcast of the system and summarily treated as one.
While I will review each of the steps in the AA lexicon, I will offer my own versions of them as well as explainations of why they are either faulty from their very root or why even the slightest of adjustment would move them from cult-mantra to reasonable approaches. And with that in mind, this first post is essentially the first step in what I feel a real rehabilitation program should be about - admition and sharing.
Seeing has how I am a follower of the theory that music is therapy, I will be punctuating each post with a song that I feel fits the particular thesis of the day.
And with that, I give you our first musical installment -
Life Of Agony - Fears:
I am not Airon Later. Airon has been, and always will be, a fictional character that I just happen to have created over 15 years ago as a way to seem much more interesting than the person I actually am.
My name is Brandon, and I have a problem with staying sober for extended periods of time.
At this point, I'm sure you're wondering to yourself, "Hey, Brandon, aren't you supposed to say 'My name is Brandon and I'm an alcoholic'"?
While this would be true in a more traditional setting, I feel that the visual that is conjoured in the audiences mind when they hear the term 'alcoholic' is one of a person that is consistently drunk - literally waking up and reaching for that bottle that rests on their nightstand and consuming every hour of the day, occationally blacking out, stumbling, slurring, and finally passing out somewhere around dusk only to repeat the cycle again.
I would be remiss to admit that there are people such as this. However, I do not fit this catagory, so the term 'alcoholic' will be used sparingly and with clearly defined terms within the text that you will find here.
So what is this blog all about then? Let's take stock to find out......
Have I lost my job? Yep.
Have I lost my family? Pretty sure that's the case too.
Have I lost my home? Yes.
Seeing as how I have lost the three main things in my life that have given me purpose, there is only one thing left for me to do - confess. I have to confess to everything that has brought me here, admit that I need help, and try and share my experience with someone that might need to take the same path that I am.
But before we really get into the blood and guts of this, I think I should explain the title of this blog.
12 Step Programs, at least traditional ones, do not work. I don't care how many editions of the so-called AA "Big Book" have been printed, the basic premise of a 12-Step Program is doomed to failure from the outset. To wit, I have titled this blog as not only a rejection of such a system, but to show that even though I tried to abide by it's alleged norms, I was both viewed as an outcast of the system and summarily treated as one.
While I will review each of the steps in the AA lexicon, I will offer my own versions of them as well as explainations of why they are either faulty from their very root or why even the slightest of adjustment would move them from cult-mantra to reasonable approaches. And with that in mind, this first post is essentially the first step in what I feel a real rehabilitation program should be about - admition and sharing.
Seeing has how I am a follower of the theory that music is therapy, I will be punctuating each post with a song that I feel fits the particular thesis of the day.
And with that, I give you our first musical installment -
Life Of Agony - Fears:
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