Give it up

"Through believing that a Higher Power can help, a man or a woman formerly eaten up with raging fear, anger, shame, doubt, guilt, and frustration may become calm and begin to grow spiritually by focusing on doing some simple steps, going to meetings, reading the Big Book, and talking to a sponsor."

Ah, those seven deadly sins. The fear, and anger, shame, doubt, etc. And frustration. My therapist and I were talking this afternoon about being in limbo. You're in that state where you're grieving over the past, looking to a bright future, but in neither of them. I feel like I'm there now. I've got that fear of the unknown, the shame in getting fired, anger at my situation, and doubt that it will all turn out ok. I'm trying to be really positive now about getting the right position, or getting a position in general. I'm trying to offer it up again: let go and let God.

I haven't been very good about that lately. I've been trying to just be peaceful about this whole process and try not to control it, but it's so hard to do! I need to just say, "God, this is all in your hands." So I'm waiting and hoping that the more I turn it over, the more I'll realize the promises. Things will get better once I hand it over.

Normal is cool

"...mood reactions to daily events are similar between bipolar disorder patients who have achieved remission and mental healthy individuals."

Besides the addictions, like shopping, smoking, and diet Coke, my bipolar seems to be under control. Ever since I stopped drinking, and after the weird period where my meds got used to it, I've been pretty normal. Normal. I'm never sure what normal is, but apparently those of us in remission can feel normal emotions and not be having an episode.

It's ok to cry; it doesn't mean you're depressed. It's ok to be really happy; it doesn't mean you're manic. Normal emotions range from high to low, and everyone feels them. Just because you feel them, too, doesn't mean it's a product of mental illness. We just have to get used to "being restored to sanity." And it's ok. It's all going to be ok.

To the newcomers

I know I'm still new, but I remember being really new. Being there in the room and saying: I'm an alcoholic. I wasn't sure I believed what I was saying. I mean, I believed I was an alcoholic, but I couldn't believe I was actually saying it to a room full of strangers.

There were a lot of newcomers in the meeting tonight, so we talked about the first three steps. They were pretty hard. Admitting you're powerless and insane is hard to do. "But I've been able to take just one drink..." you think. And then you think back on it. Could you, really? I sure couldn't. I had to take more than one, more than 10. I couldn't stop. That's powerlessness.

And it was driving me insane. I couldn't stop. I drank for grief, I drank for anger, I drank because the sun was up, because the sun was down, because I was off work, and I always wanted a beer at lunch, even during work. It's hard here, because there is alcohol everywhere. Every restaurant has a liquor license. There's wine at every store. There's all my haunts on every corner. I know going home won't solve that, my old haunts are there, too. It's just time that will make those places lose their powers.

Step three is still a challenge. Every day I have to tell myself: turn it over. It's not your decision. It's hard to do. All you want to do is take over the wheel, to be selfish. Someone said tonight, "I don't think much of myself, but I'm all I think about." It's so true. Alcoholics, and I think really everyone, is only concerned with themselves. People are inherently selfish, because we're all worried about our own role in the world. We worry what others think of us, what we look like, how we sound, etc.

And that's what AA can do: make you less selfish. AA helps you think of others, and stop pondering yourself all the time, but lets you think about your role in things and how to make yourself better. It's a nice combination of inward and outward reflection.

It's all about the We

We admitted we were powerless over alcohol....

We came to believe....

It's all about the we. We of the program. A few people have mentioned lately that it says We not I in all of the steps, and how profound that is. Even when they were writing the steps 75 years ago they recognized the importance of the group power. They saw just how important We was.

I love that. I couldn't do it without the people in this program, like my sponsor, my friends, and the other newcomers I see heading in the door. It's inspiring to know that others have these problems, and that I'm not alone. I'm not out there crazy by myself drinking myself into a stupor. I'm in a room with other people who have been there, and understand my willingness to do this program, even though I still have that desire to drown my sorrows in alcohol. And they are there for me through it all.

Sane

Just picked up a book by one of my favorite authors. Marya Hornbacher. She has written three books: Madness, Wasted, and Sane.

In Madness, she talks about her fight with bipolar disorder. She's an incredible wreck most of the time, in and out of institutions, ruining marriages, etc. The rest of the time she's an incredible business woman, writing tons of articles and teaching. She's quite an incredible force. Her descriptions of her manic episodes were so right on, that she made me feel manic just reading it. Her depression was so low that I never thought she'd get out of it.

And then I saw this book: Sane - Mental Illness, Addiction, and the 12 Steps. She made it! And look, now she's where I am! Amazing. I've heard that in AA a lot of people think taking medication for mental disorders is weak, or just like taking other drugs. What they don't understand is that mental illness is a disorder of the brain chemistry, often running in families and exacerbated by dysfunctional family situations. It seems the majority of people with mental illness turn to addiction to deal with their problems. That's why they call it self-medicating.

Taking medication you need, just like if you were a diabetic, has no shame in it. As a mentally ill person, you need those meds to keep you as close to sanity as you can get. They serve their purpose, and should not be demonized.

So Marya created another book to help the mentally ill person through the steps, applying it to our addiction, but helping us understand our own concepts of sanity. When it came to step two, believing a higher power could restore us to sanity, "Many of us balked." I sure did. What was sanity? Had I ever been there? How would I be able to tell?

I'm hoping this book will be as great as her others, and give me a little more insight into the program and sanity itself.

Oh, lordy, troubles so hard.

I believe in God. Always have. Well, maybe not ALWAYS. I've had my share of doubting Thomas moments, or more accurately, a few years of trying witchcraft, Taoism, Buddhism. You know, rejecting that Catholic upbringing for something else. Anything else but nuns and priests and an unforgiving God.

And then 7 years ago I went to a conference at a nunnery round here for a college course. There were nuns (maybe 3) still living there, and they helped run the days for us, giving us food and tending to our needs.

One day, I sat down in the library and picked up a little Thomas Merton book. A nun came in, and I asked if I could ask her a question. "How do you still believe, when the church hates gays and abortion and fights wars? How do you keep the church separate from God?" And she said, "You're not a true Catholic until you question your religion."

You have to question. It's better to take a good hard look at what you believe, and decide if it's something you can take or leave. And I realized, God isn't the catholic church. My God is forgiving and all loving.

A few years later, maybe 1, I started going back to church. I thought, "Maybe this can save me. Maybe being there and reciting the hymns and prayers will take away this pain and loneliness I feel. And it did, for a while. Until life got in the way. Or to be exact, I was too hungover to think about going to church on a Sunday morning, and when I did go, I felt guilty the entire time.

So when I came to AA and they asked me to believe in a higher power, I knew that was one step that would come easy to me. I believe in God, a loving God who could forgive me my sins and help this alcoholic a second chance. I knew that I could and should go back to that fellowship that feels so comfortable and sane.

And so that's the second step: believing he can help even me. Believing there is a power out there that loves me and can help restore me to sanity. Now, the biggest step: asking him for that help.