Some memes

i was court-ordered to attend, and yet here i sit, a few days later, still going to meetings, working steps and serving the fellowship that gave me this new manner of living. i share that fact often and very early when i share, because so many of my peers, reached a place of desperation that drove them to recovery. i think that is great, although i was once upon a time envious of them. the reason i share the=at the drugs still worked and i was forced into recovery, is because i know many of the FNGs, walking into the rooms today are in that same situation. they can still get high and enjoy the fVck out of it, but their a$$es are in a sling for one reason or another and the rooms offer a way to manage that part of their unmanageable lives. i want to say loudly and clearly, to me, it does not matter what brings one to the rooms, nor does it matter why one stays, as i quite understand about the cliché about the pot calling the kettle black.
as i stay clean and as i progress in my program of recovery, i find that when i cast a critical eye back on the day, it may be true, that even i had the gift of desperation, but my denial and the stories i told myself, kept me from feeling any sort of desperate. i am also glad that many of my peers, arrive with the desire for something different, rather because they had to, as they are a valuable source to the newest of the new, as they stumble into the rooms. since it has been quite some time, since i walked into the rooms, sharing about the desperation i may or may not have felt, makes me at the least disingenuous, at most a bald-faced liar. i know today, what i was unwilling or incapable of facing way back when, that being an addict means more than just spouting that off to a judge, in hopes of a lighter sentence. when i played the addict card in that courtroom nearly twenty years ago, i believed it was lie for all sorts of stupid reasons. that admission, in order to play on the sympathies of a liberal leaning judge and keep my a$$ out of prison, was the first whole truth i told in a long time, even though ironically, i thought i was lying. because of that wholly truthful lie, i am here today, clean and a member of a thriving fellowship that has offered me much more than a “get out of prison, free” card.
i am quiet certain that i have driven my point home. the gift of desperation comes in many guises. for me it was an untenable and unmanageable situation that i loathed from the very beginning and di my best to skirt and avoid at all costs. it is no wonder it took six months or so to get clean, after my first meeting and another eighteen months to finally admit that i was an addict. not some kind of addict, a known addict and recovering addict, a grateful addict or an addict-alcoholic. it is because of that history and not despite it, that i choose to share a bit on the dark and cynical side. i will leave the sunshine and light side of recovery for my peers to share about, as they seem to do it very well. the HOPE in my darker side, is despite my unwillingness and apparent lack of desperation and despite the fact that i have a few days clean, i am still here, i am still getting better and i have many gifts i am willing to give away, the first and foremost being that life does not end, once one gets clean.
it is a good day to rumble on down the road and show up and be present for my employer. life is good today and living in the here and now, means showing up and doing the next right thing, just for today.

∞ DT ∞