Been down in the trenches lately. Gratitude that once rolled out of my soul like a snowball heading down a hill covered with wet New England snow, now requires rolling up my sleeves, bringing my lunch box, and working at it. The funny thing is, things are so much better now than they were in the past. The truth is, I was grateful for the little things back then. Grateful for the ability to hold my head up. To not avoid people. To finally stop running away. I was grateful for the ability to tell the truth and for those first tentative steps into allowing myself to be exactly who I am--flaws, fears and all. Grateful for the first introductions I sought with God and the mysterious warmth I caught glimpses of when surrender was the only option. Oh yea, and I was grateful that the desire to drink and do drugs had been removed.
I'm still shackled to my alcoholic mind when I let it run, but even when it does, the result is simply pain, isolation, and a dip in the shallow end of despair (that can be dealt with) rather than looking down the barrel of the terminal unsolvable lonely tragedy that I thought my life was doomed to be. That's kinda a cool thing to be grateful for. I loose sight of what's important and fall off the beam. I do it all the time. Thank God I've got some directions to follow. An alcoholic users guide that has absolutely worked in the past. I've got real evidence. I don't know how it works. I'm always surprised when it does work. And even still, I only pick up the spiritual tools when every last one of my half-baked self willed ideas fail (they always do). It simply works. The circumstances make me willing. Maybe someday I'll do something before the pain gets too severe. Progress.... It's so nice to know I'm not alone even though my mind is always lying to me telling me how alone I am.
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i like the whole tragedy script. for years, i literally saw myself as a tragic hero. actually, one of the characters with whom i identified most was the William Hurt dude in The Big Chill--the cynical, impotent, drug addict (I wasn't literally impotent, but certainly figuratively). by aligning myself with the tragic character arc, I justified my misery and made the drinking somehow noble, a terrible burden that defined and destroyed me.
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