Stick with the winners

As I left the retreat, Sister Bonnie said to me, "I know I'll see you back here. You can see it in your face: you want this. Stick with the winners."

I do want this. I want a better connection to my God. I want a better, drug free life (even cigarettes), I want to grow enough to help other people overcome their addictions. Maybe I should go back to school for social work or counseling. Addiction counseling would be interesting, but I would want some mental health training there, too. I bet the college of social work at my old university would take me. I could get a reference from my old therapist. What an interesting thing to think of.

I could even go back and get a master's in religion (I have my BA in religious studies), and do religious counseling. Maybe even one day lead a retreat like we just had: small, intimate groups. I hate big speaking events.

A change is in store. Let's see what it is.

Don't fear the reaper

"Don't fear meeting your God," says Sister Bonnie.

I fear death. I never did before, but I do now. I never really thought of death, but I always had a visceral reaction to it. I swear I cried more at my grandfather's funeral than my grandmother did. I was so hurt and afraid. I had no reason to be. He was a spiritual man, and would go to meet his maker. This I believe, as a Catholic, that we join our God in heaven.

I have no idea what it looks like, but there is something out there.

There was a woman at the retreat who had lymphoma 10 years ago. Three years ago she had breast cancer. Now, she has a tumor in her lung, her armpit, and her stomach. But she cried in gratitude for being sober, not in pain for the fact that she was dying. She was living her life, and feeling like she was giving her best to the life she had left in her. She was fighting death, but not afraid at all. She had a spiritual program, and a deep relationship with her higher power.

I need to work on not being afraid. I need to work on believing in my God, and His power to make things right. Death would be an opening to a world I have never known; a place the bible promises is beautiful and sweet. I believe in a hell, too, but as a Catholic I believe that my faith will save me from that disaster. As I get closer to God, I get closer to heaven.

Mazel Tov!

"This I must enjoy."

Whatever it is, wherever you are, you must enjoy it. You only get one life, so far as we know, and what's the point of wasting it fretting and wasting your life away?

I must enjoy being unemployed; not having the bills I used to have; being back home where I wanted to be. All things are going well! I know I have a Pollyanna view of life, but that's what keeps my life enjoyable. Even when I'm depressed, it's just a little harder to find the silver lining. But there is always a silver lining, a lesson to be learned, in your problems.

So this I must enjoy. This I must take with delight.

Word from Sister Bonnie

More thoughts from Bonnie:

Get off yourself and get onto something big.

The task ahead of us is never as great as the power behind us.

Don't get so involved that you lose yourself.

Put your sobriety ahead of other people's.

You have to be there for yourself, not others.

If the situation isn't going to change, you've got to; get on with your life.

AA = Awareness and acceptance

So I'm wrong, so what?

"I have a right to be right, and a right to be wrong."

Some people feel bad when they're right, and they prove other people wrong. I don't feel "bad" for being right, but sometimes I feel too "good" about it. I have too much pride in being right, that I'll make up answers just to sound smarter. Or someone will ask me if I've read a book and I'll say yes, even if I haven't. But when I am right, it's ok to feel good about it. I have that right.

And I have a right to be wrong. Sometimes I don't know the answer. I need to work on admitting that, and not having an answer for everything. It's ok if I'm wrong. I don't have to feel sorry, or feel bad, as long as it's not life threatening. My friend Amanda told me about her cold symptoms today, and I thought she had a sinus infection. She called the advice nurse, who told her it was just her cold going away, draining out. So I was wrong, but I don't feel bad about it. I want her to be healthy, and I was encouraging her to call the doctor anyway.

It's a little different when you have to admit you're wrong and it's embarrassing. That's where I have trouble admitting I'm wrong. I don't do well with shame; really, who does. I hate feeling like I'm ashamed of something I've said, or done. But actually, it's ok. I'm only human, and humans are wrong sometimes. I need to remember that.

The 12 rewards

There are 12 rewards of sobriety, according to Sister Bonnie:

Hope and faith, instead of despair.

Courage, instead of fear.

Peace of mind, instead of confusion.

Self respect, instead of contempt.

Self confidence, instead of helplessness.

Respect of others, instead of pity or contempt.

A clear conscience, instead of guilt.

Real friendship, instead of loneliness.

Love and understanding of family and friends, instead of their doubts and fears.

Freedom of living without the bondage of an unhealthy relationship.

Codependent no more

Sometimes the hardest part about being an alcoholic is letting go. Letting go of your co-dependency on people, especially. I know this is more of an Alanon thing, but I've met a whole lot of AA people with co-dependency issues. But we have to let go of other people.

"Letting go is not to care for, but to care about."

I always took care of my mom. I rescued her when she was lost. I spoke with her doctors and tried to solve her illness. I talked to her and tried to convince her to get treatment. But just like alcoholism, you can't go for other people. I had to let go and stop treating her like my child, and just care about her from a distance. Luckily, it didn't take a lot of time, but she did ask for help. And I was there to give it to her, on my terms, not to let her be dependent on me.

"Allow others to affect their destiny's."

You can't lead a horse to water, they say. Like letting go, you have to let people live their own lives. A nun I was speaking to said she used to teach at a Catholic university in the 60's when women were starting to get abortions. A priest said to her, "How can you work with these women? The church condemns abortion, yet you continue to support these women?" And she said, "It's not my choice to have an abortion. All I can do is make sure that whatever they decide, they are safe." You can't make others' choices for them. You have to let go.

"To let go is to fear less, and love more."

Like the Lord

Sister Bonnie said, "Don't crucify yourself between two thieves: the regrets of yesterday, and the fear of tomorrow."

I never realized I had so many regrets until I started doing my fourth step. There are so many things that hold me back, because they take up so much of my brain and my time to think about. I think about them before I make moves, which is good, because sometimes it keeps me out of trouble, but sometimes it makes me fearful of moving forward. Life is change; life is forward movement. You have to keep moving, always. So don't regret the past, but don't wish to shut the door on it, either.

Ah, the fear of tomorrow. I've been having a lot of that lately. What is going to happen to me? Will I remain unemployed for a long time? Will I get this part time job? What if I do? What will happen then? Will I find a place of my own anytime soon? There is so much "unknown" out there right now, and I'm afraid of it. But I know about moving forward, and I can't be complacent.

So don't crucify yourself between your fears and your regrets. There is no place in sobriety or emotional sobriety for paralysis because of these things. You have to grow and move on in order to experience life, but don't throw away these things either. Learn from them.

Women's Retreat

Had a great women's retreat this weekend in the city. I met a ton of really great women, and had some inspirational moments. I'll share some with you in the next couple of posts.

The retreat was at a nunnery in the city, in a nice wooded area near a university. There were 5 nuns still living there, and a nun who is in the program led the sessions. She was hilarious and genius. Her name is Sister Bonnie, and I recommend her if you're having a retreat any time soon.

We had small sessions, and AA meetings, and conference meetings from the retreat director. It really was a wonderful time, and I got to hang out with some nuns.

I love nuns. They radiate peacefulness, and you can always tell a nun a mile away. They just give off this special aura. A nun once said to me, "If you don't question your religion, you're not a good Catholic." I believe it. It was nice to sit in chapel and repeat all the prayers I learned as a child, and I just avoided the one phrase I hate, "It is right to give Him thanks and praise." I just hate that it says it is right. It seems like all others must be wrong if that's right. So now I just don't say it. Ok, on to the good stuff.