Day 369
Even after acknowledging to myself that I was out of control, that I could not avoid behaviors that were killing me, that I could not stop on my own, I still believed I could figure out how to quit. When I accelerated instead of slowing down, I gave up on quitting and started looking for ways to soften my inevitable crash. When I accelerated further and willingly/knowingly put innocents at risk through my behaviors, I knew something had to change.
I look back now with the misery of my memories and am just amazed that I thought I was doing what I wanted. I don’t remember much about wanting to stop at that point, but I thought a lot about choosing to live or choosing to die, and the choice was not obvious to me.
To be able to think of such things analytically without an emotional expression concerns me that I may be progressing through recovery with my mind and intellect more than with my heart. There is still a sanitary aspect to my recollections; it seems like there should be more tears. My sponsor says to relax and be grateful that I can do as much as I can right now. She assures me the heart will follow, and is probably following more than I know while also protecting itself from the rawest of emotions, and allowing the brain to direct the process. I don’t know whether that is true, but what I know is true is the value of his voice in my life, in my recovery.
There have been so many ‘small’ moments where my addict is talking louder than the program. Then, a side comment in one of my 12-step meetings or guidance at the other end of a phone call is enough to keep me on track and believing that recovery is a long road filled with potholes.
I’m not doing too badly, especially considering where I could be right now... or where I could not be.
–JR
My memories of misery
Won't save me from the storm
I lie awake till the sun comes up
And the water breaks on the shore
Don't leave me now I'm drowning
And all I have has been lost
These memories of misery are all I've got
–Hawthorne Heights, ”Memories of Misery"
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