For today

I'm grateful:


To realize that when I feel annoyed with others it's a sign that there's something I'm seeing in them that I'm trying very hard not to see in myself

For the ability to pause

For not always having to follow a schedule

For the summer

Children of God

It's still hard for me to hear the ACOA affirmation "I am a child of God" and fully accept it. I want to. June is LGBTQ Pride month: a time when I try to rededicate energy to loving myself. I'm not where I want to be yet as far as loving myself, but it helps to have the example of others who have been through that fight and have come out the other side much closer to whole. This Pride, I am trying to be gentle with myself in that way. I am proud of my relationship; I am proud of my ability to be out about myself, and the ongoing process of coming to know myself better. I can stop carrying the shame that others have placed on me; it isn't mine.

I find comfort recently in the feeling that my sense of insecurity is moving me in the right direction for growth: towards getting a sponsor and working the steps.

Shake It

I am grateful for people who cry or get nervous at meetings. They take away that nagging sense of terminal uniqueness and show that these reactions are not special or remarkable, just human. They can be shared plainly (not stuffed or magnified) so that others can feel human too.

Like lots of people, I shake when I'm nervous. Today I had to go to traffic court for the first time, and I did everything I could to stay composed. I told myself exactly what I needed to say, rehearsed it in my head, and tried to stay in control. And I shook.

I shook in an Al-Anon meeting when I qualified the first time and I shook when I came out as queer to one of my regular Al-Anon groups. And people were supportive as hell.

I usually try to hide it, but trying to acting normal in the midst of this is not convincing and it comes off as kind of silly. The shaking feels like a real feeling trying to be expressed, and fighting the flow doesn't make the feeling, or the symptom, go away.

I want to reach a point where, when it's happening, I can just let it happen plainly and to be willing to risk the connection that comes with other people identifying with that reaction.

One definition of terminal uniqueness: Protecting yourself through your feelings of being completely different from other people and through your ideas that you are therefore misperceived by them.

A Little Funky

Today was a little funky. I felt myself shifting towards reaction mode as the day progressed. It's a funny realization that these are the kind of days where I really learn things about myself if I allow myself to be honest.

I reacted to some things my boss said to me today about a project I was working on that had been delayed, and my first inclination was to feel bad about myself, unworthy of my job and unable to live up to standards. After allowing myself some time to pause, I realized that there could be many reasons why this had come up today. Maybe my boss was aware of something that made the project more urgent than we had thought it was a few weeks ago. Maybe he just was having a bad day. There are many possibilities. I can't ever know anyone else's motivations. Knowing that today--really knowing it--is a hell of a blessing.

That doesn't always keep the shamed feelings from coming up on me when I feel challenged, but it does mean that I have the tools to put the interaction in perspective. "How important is it?" It wasn't too important, really. For today, I did the best I could.

There was a great rain shower this evening. My boyfriend, our dog Jim (pictured above) and I waited it out under an awning. It felt good to be in the midst of something I had no control over. It was a good way to recover from a funky work day.

Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we did get sick, at least we didn't die; so let us all be thankful. -Buddha

Grim Determination

I was reminded today of a recent reading in One Day at a Time that focuses on resentment:

I have no room for resentment in my new Al-Anon way of life. I will not fight it with grim determination, but will reason it out of existence by calmly uncovering its cause. 

This is a great reminder to me that Al-Anon is a gentle program. I used to phrase my recovery goal in terms of “stability.” I wanted to stand firm despite the turbulence of the past, present and future that seemed to always be with me. But, I thought the cure for this was to be unmoved and unmovable. That, I’m realizing today, is what grim determination is.

The problem here is that I’ve left my higher power out of the picture; that everything becomes about my balance, my equilibrium, and my ability to maintain. With my higher power absent from my mind, “reasoning [resentment] out of existence” becomes obsession rather than an act that leads toward amends.

There’s another reading in the literature that illustrates this difference with the example of silence. Am I using silence to injure someone, or to passive-aggressively express a resentment? Am I setting my jaw while remaining silent? Or am I remaining quiet in order to let my higher power in; in order for the things I can’t see to become apparent?

The former seems like grim determination. The latter feels more like serenity.

I am grateful that the pressure I’ve felt to remain stable and determined is no longer necessary.

Waiting

I went into my first Al-Anon meeting with a thought that I’ve heard many times in other people’s shares: that I could quickly get in and get out with the information I needed to recover. I once heard someone share that they had been convinced that after two or three meetings they would be teaching the steps to others. This was someone with over 20 years in the program.

Growing up in a family with addictions, there was never enough time, everything was rushed. Things like doing well in school or being able to take care of yourself were a sign of personal worth. Asking for help made you a liability. So, at my first meeting, my plan was to share really well, blow everyone away and somehow be promoted to the top of the class. I thought this was the kind way of being in Al-Anon, which wouldn’t involve burdening anyone.

Instead, I heard “keep coming back,” and the confusing: “stay, and wait for the miracle to happen.”

This has affected my understanding of my higher power: one that isn’t just with me, but one that moves me to plunk my butt down every time I have the urge to get up and run away. A higher power that is patient with the process and that is rooting for me in ways that I don’t yet know how to root for myself.

I am grateful for honest exchanges; hearing from others what my higher power needs me to hear.