Unmanageable

Unmanageable. Life is unmanageable. But what is management?

To manage is to orchestrate something. "To continue to function, progress, or succeed, usually despite hardship or difficulty; get along." It's like the Big Book says, we try to be the director of the play of our lives. We take on the roles of scriptwriter, actor, manager. We believe that we have control over our lives, and that the things we do really can lead us to one thing or another, when we don't really have that option. We can do everything "right" and things can sometimes turn out in a different manner.

We have no control. Does this sound depressing? A little, maybe, but really, it's freeing. We don't have to control anything, because it's useless to try.

And this is where the freedom comes in. When we believe in a higher power, we can accept that it is in control, not us, so we can let go. We can stop stressing about the outcome of everything, because in the end, it's really not up to us. Instead, we can let go and be free.

Everything is unmanageable

Every time I think my life is unmanageable right now, I have to remember that it was unmanageable before.

Sometimes, when I'm smoking, people stop me and say, "You know that'll kill you." And my reply is always, "Maybe that's the point."

Today the speaker at my meeting said when he relapsed, that first drink, he knew he died a little inside. And that's what I have to remember. I was killing myself. I wanted to die, and I was trying my damnedest to do it. I was drinking more than I needed to, and taking medication that messes with your liver as well. I was taking other people's prescriptions and snorting coke whenever I could get my hands on it. I wanted to die.

So now, when I think the feelings are too much, and I just want to kill them again with booze and drugs, I have to remember that I was just killing myself. I need to develop that will to live a clean and sober life. I need to love myself enough to remain in this program.

I hope alcohol is done with me. I'm done with it.

Half measures availed us nothing

You can't go into a program of recovery with one foot in and one foot out. Something like this, where your life will change in amazing ways, has to be taken on fully, with all your heart. Half measures avail you nothing.

And that's really what the third step is all about. Become willing to give it up to God and realize that you're not driving the bus.

Someone in a meeting the other day said he was reluctant to give up control, and his sponsor said this: "Paul, when you're flying cross country do you kick the tires and inspect the airplane? Do you see if the pilot has a license? Check that he's awake and able?" Paul answered, of course not. "Well, then you just get in the plane and trust? That's all you have to do with this step. Trust that there is something out there that will fly your plane, and that you don't have to know how it works."

I believe there is a God, whatever he (she, it) looks like or is, and that truly I'm not in control of my own life. When I was trying to control it all, look how I made it unmanageable? So let's let go and let God.

And that's step three.

Killing me softly

It's always amazing when you go to a meeting and hear someone telling your story. Tonight, I swear the speaker was reading my diary. Her life and drinking were just like mine. Always questioning, "Did I do something stupid last night? Who is this guy? Where's my car?"

She said she listed her "proof" that she was an alcoholic. Her list of stupid things and dangerous things that happened while or because of her drinking. I think that's what my sponsor told me to do when she asked me to describe how my life had become unmanageable. List off the insanity.

Well, here goes.

I blackout a lot and talk to people about God knows what, and probably tell secrets.
I drive drunk a lot, too.
I drunk dial people, mostly my parents, which is insane.
I bring home or go home with people I shouldn't and put myself and others into dangerous positions.
Sometimes I get into fights with people or break things.
I go to work hungover or still drunk.
I ignore my dog's need for a walk because I don't want to take my wine glass with me.
I lie.
I drink on my meds and then blame depression when they don't work.
I tried to kill myself.
I hurt other people.

And that's a life that is unmanageable.

A sponsor, a sponsor!

Finally got myself a sponsor! Her name is Maureen, and she's pretty cool, I think. She's in Al-Anon as well, so I know she'll get the family shit.

I saw her tonight at a meeting with the best speaker yet. He was hilarious, telling his tales of drunken revelry and multiple marriages. I was almost crying listening to him.

After the meeting, Maureen came up and said, "Have you read the Big Book yet?" I was proud to say I had, and I'd read the twelve and twelve, too! "Well, it's time to make your powerless and unmanageable lists. Work on those this week." My wha? Oh, list what I'm powerless over and how it was unmanageable. Jesus, that's kinda a tall order, but sponsors don't ask you to do anything they haven't done themselves.

Well, I'm powerless over life. I don't control anything, and I couldn't even control my drinking. So I guess there's a start. And unmanageable? My drinking had become unmanageable. I guess it all comes down to booze, in the end. Here's to lists.

And so it begins.

My name is Anne, and I'm an alcoholic.

Wow. The first time I said that out loud it was hard to get out. I'm an alcoholic. I have a problem with alcohol. It has me firmly in it's grips.

But seriously, alcoholic? Ok, so sometimes (a lot) I drive drunk. And most times I pass out or blackout.... and I end up places I shouldn't be, like sleeping it off in a ditch or in someone's bed, but really, an alcoholic? Isn't that just the way 20-somethings act? Like idiots?

And then I turned thirty and heard a story. My cousin DKD was sitting alone in her house and decided to get shitfaced. She proceeded to drink two bottles of wine, and then decided she wanted to go pick up some dude at a bar. She put on her best skanky clothes and drove to the bar in another town. After a few more shots, she took to her car and drove home on a major highway. She hit a Jersey barrier (one of those concrete things) and ripped up her front axle. And then it gets interesting - some poor sap stopped to help her and called her son to come get her, and then left. The cops arrived and proceeded to grill her on driving drunk, but she said she picked up some man and he bailed with his friends after crashing her car. "That's my story, and I'm sticking to it." She got out of there with nothing but a wrecked car and a very angry son. No ticket, no nothing.

That could have been me. How many times have I stumbled to the bar after having one too many? Hunting for boys to take home to cure my lonliness, and always leaving alone anyway. Driving home blind drunk, having to concentrate with all my might on the road ahead. Crawling out of bed in the morning to sweat out the booze behind my desk and hope no one notices me.

I was sick. I am sick. There is something in this world which has the power to take me over and make me make the stupidest decisions. And I don't want to be that way. I don't want to end up 43 and just like DKD. I won't have it.

So I called someone. My best friend is in this program called Alcoholics Anonymous. He never preached to me; just let me know it was there and available. I've been so proud watching his journey for the past 5 years. It's heartened me to see how much he's grown - but I never thought it was for me.

I walked into my first meeting 7 days ago and helped make coffee. It was lunchtime and since there were four of us, we all went around the room and shared, and I said it. My name is Anne and I'm an alcoholic. Shit. Did that just really come out of my mouth? I can't believe it, but it's true. My behaviors have become out of control. I've lost the control in my relationship to alcohol, if I ever had it in the first place.

We have come to believe that we are powerless over alcohol and our lives have become unmanageable.

Unmanageable. I've never lost a job, been pulled over, or hit rock bottom. But I was sure headed that way. So here I am, chronicling for the interwebs my story.

My name is Anne and I'm an alcoholic.