Emotional sobriety

I continued to feel a bit anxious and distant from things today. The world is going through an economic crisis and so am I, thanks to my spending binge earlier in the month. Luckily I managed to get hold of some cash from an old account that I’d forgotten about today, meaning that I will be able to survive until next week’s benefit payment. It also means I can go out as planned tomorrow night with a friend from the fellowship, who is taking me to a ‘dressing up’ club…I’ll speak more about that tomorrow, but it’s very exciting!

 So I was feeling distant and anxious earlier today, and I wasn’t looking forward to my home group at all. Hardly anyone over six months sober gets the opportunity to share there any more, and to be frank, I find it boring now. I’ve become so judgmental of newcomers, I find myself picking holes in their sharing - which is really bad I know. It saddens me because I honestly used to love that meeting; I didn’t want to be there tonight. I resolved to put the literature out, sit quietly at the back and then leave quickly at the end. I seem to have developed lots of little resentments against many of the regulars there, which I know are borne entirely out of jealousy. All of this bitterness towards the newcomers is me being envious of them, because they appear to be doing so well, and I’m not. It doesn’t help that I’m really anxious about money at the moment. Anxiety and insecurity always make me more resentful in general.

 What I fail to realise when I’m resenting these people is that I’m acting just like a newcomer myself. The way I feel at the moment is almost exactly how I felt when I was three weeks sober. The fact that this is happening lets me know I need to work harder on my program. I need to share more, I need to pray more, and I need to get on with the steps. I’ve not been in the middle of the AA bed recently – though I’ve been going to lots of meetings, my heart hasn’t really been in it. To try and improve my mood tonight I took a rare opportunity to share at the end of the meeting, which helped enormously. I talked about the insecurity and the resentment for the second time this week; I came home much more emotionally sober than I was earlier in the day.

Looking forward

Sadly, yesterday morning’s serenity didn’t last long. I discovered that I didn’t have enough money to travel to any of the usual meetings, and all the ones local to me were on too late. I felt tired and ill, and didn’t fancy going out in the evening. Towards the end of the afternoon I took a brief walk in the sun, which was nice, but came home feeling more emotional than ever. It really isn’t a good idea to get into situations where I can’t go to meetings. I’ve been irresponsible with money this month, I know I have. Thank God I have benefit payments coming through next week.

 I was not looking forward to making tea at my regular step meeting tonight. I would have to ask the treasurer for reimbursement, as I definitely wouldn’t be able to fund the teatime provisions, and as I’ve probably said before, I hate asking for money. In fact it makes my skin crawl. I’d already asked my mum to lend me some money to travel into town; I definitely couldn’t miss the meeting today. So now my mum knows that I’m skint, which doesn’t help because she tends to worry more than I do.

 The treasurer of tonight’s meeting happens to be Colin, who I’ve had a resentment against for a while. He was happy to give me the tea money – why wouldn’t he be? – but I dreaded asking him nonetheless. I felt on edge during the entire meeting, and when I realised I hadn’t shared anywhere for over a week I knew that opening my mouth would be the only thing to make me feel better. I spoke about my dire financial situation for the first time, which happily took some of the anxiety away. Sharing really does work. Most of tonight’s sharing was about step 8, the week’s main topic, and I also came to realise that I need to get on with the steps. I am doing step 5 at my new sponsor’s place this Friday, which I’m looking forward to, and then I imagine it won’t take long to do the rest of the program. I’ve been in AA long enough to know that completing the steps will help me. I’ve been stuck on step 5 for far too long. Which is nobody’s fault, it’s just that I can’t leave it any longer. I’ve always known that my life will change somehow when I finish the steps. I need to get some movement and excitement back in my program. Thanks to a new sponsor, it looks like that’s already here.

Serenity

I should be upset – I’ve been unwell in the past few days and I’m absolutely broke. I’ve had to let people down because I simply can’t afford to go anywhere. And I don’t feel like doing anything anyway because some kind of bug is making me want to stay in bed all day. But I’m not unhappy. The program seems to have taught me to accept the things I cannot change. This is one of those things. I’ve had a nice weekend nonetheless. On Friday I managed to complete my shift at the local gay helpline, and I was able to help a bereaved caller by listening to them on the phone for over an hour. Yesterday I went for a long walk in the beautiful sunshine and attended a step meeting that I’ve just started going to, where my friend Earl gave a beautiful chair. It was a lovely meeting, with a lot of great sharing. Today the weather is gorgeous again and I plan to go to a meeting that I’ve never been to before. I’m not unwell enough to start skipping meetings! I’m still doing 90 in 90, and with just a few days left I’m well on course for that target.

 The only slight disappointment is that I had to let my father down last night. I was supposed to be going to his place in Surrey for dinner, but I couldn’t afford the train fare. I absolutely despise asking for money, so I couldn’t ask my mother to fund the train journey, and money is a touchy subject with my dad so I had to partly lie and tell him I was too ill to go out. The last time I asked him for financial help, it was a disaster and we didn’t see each other for five years. I don’t want that to happen again.

 Being forced to live on a tight budget is something that happened to me all the time when I was drinking. I was also ill all the time in those days. So the last couple of days have been a part reminder of what it used to be like. If I hadn’t been so irresponsible with money in the last few months then I wouldn’t be in this tight spot now; and maybe if I had a healthier diet I wouldn’t be unwell at the moment. But I’m not cowering in despair at the fact that life is back to how it used to be all the time for me. As I said, recovery has given me the tools to accept the things I cannot change, and this is just the way things are at the moment. They won’t always be. At least nothing will stop me from getting to meetings. And, most importantly, I don’t have to drink.

Chapter Eight

I’m feeling anxious about something. I don’t know what it is. It’s not that I’m booked in for voluntary work at the helpline tonight. I’ve done regular voluntary work for well over a year, and I don’t get nervous about it any more. It’s not that I’m feeling alone – I’ve been to lots of meetings this week and seen lots of friends. Maybe it’s the resentment I still hold against Colin and Dean, who I hardly see any more because I’ve started attending different meetings. Or maybe it’s that I still don’t have a job, and I’m nearly broke again. Despite that, I can’t stop myself from spending money. I’ve booked another weekend away for December, and I’ve bought tickets to see one of my favourite bands, the Ting Tings, in concert in October. I thought my anxiety was getting better, but really it’s just the same as it always was. As soon as I get any money into my account, I spend it. Perhaps I should go to the fellowship for that – I’m sure I wouldn’t be out of place there. What would REALLY help is if I could find a job. But after all these months there still seems to be a shortage of vacancies around. And most of the applications that I send off now are only half-hearted, because part of me doesn’t know if I could cope with a job yet. Part of me loves being able to stay at home, write and read stories and listen to music all day. This has been my life for months, and I’m happy with it. I can’t help but think that a job would spoil my day. Life is as full as it ever was. It’s just a shame that there’s hardly any money to go around.

 I hate the fact that my life is still ruled by money. If we didn’t live in a capitalist state where everyone is expected to work every hour of the day to support themselves, this wouldn’t be a problem. As it is, I’m technically a sub-functional adult, because I can’t get a job. I’ve tried for years. Nothing ever fits with me. The only thing I’ve ever loved doing is writing, but no one seems to think I really have a chance in that world. Well, I still have hope. The latest novel is going very well. I’ve reached chapter eight – a milestone that always seems to decide whether a story will be successful or not.

 My resentments in AA are also slightly bothersome, though not as much as they were last week. I’ve had over a week to recover from my near breakdown last Tuesday. I’ve kept away from those meetings where I’m likely to see the people that I resent, and the anger and jealousy has slowly subsided. Last night I saw Colin and co. for the first time in days, and it was fine. I hardly spoke to them. We’ve drifted apart, I can’t deny it.

 I only went to that meeting because my sponsor who’s just flown back from California said he would be there. It was lovely to see him again, and afterwards we had a lovely chat over pizza. We were with the clique, all of whom made a lot more noise than us. I realised that my new sponsor is just as introverted as me, which I found endearing. We have a lot in common; I never would have known. I’ve spoken to him about my resentments, and he understands fully, and he says maybe I should let those people drift if they want to. I’ve learnt in sobriety that leaving things to develop naturally is the best way – if my friendships with Colin and Dean are meant to tail off, then I have to let them.

 I’ve changed my meetings around not just because of Colin and Dean; the other day I was talking about all the newcomers who’ve come into gay AA recently, and I realised how little a part of that crowd I am now. I think maybe I was a little harsh and judgmental of newcomers in general on Tuesday – I guess I’m just jealous that they all get to share at my home group now when I don’t. The solution I’ve found is to look for different meetings, and it’s nice to be able to go anywhere without feeling the old stranger anxiety. Last year I couldn’t walk into a single meeting that I didn’t know without having my hand held; it’s so different now. So much variety and choice is open to me now, thanks to recovery. The newcomers have all of that to look forward to, which is wonderful.

Seeing it through

It’s turning out to be a fairly normal week. It’s nice to be able to say that. No major dramas or mood events to report on. I’m still writing a lot, I’m still looking for work, and I’m continuing to go to AA meetings every day, so I’m doing plenty of useful things with my time. My home group tonight did not make me as emotional as it did last week. I think I was less expectant of it to be absolutely brilliant this time. In the past I absolutely loved that meeting, and would look forward to it every week. Lately it’s lost a lot of its sparkle for me. Last week I think it really affected me, but tonight I could handle it. I know that next year when my literature commitment runs out, I will be able to go back to more local meetings, which I’m really looking forward to. The meeting I’ve gone to every Tuesday night for the past year is a newcomer’s meeting, and I feel like I’m growing out of it. There are so many newcomers in gay AA at the moment that no one over six months sober gets to share there. There seems to be little point in going there these days, other than to put the literature out. I can’t wait for that commitment to end! Because I’m trying to become more patient, I’m determined to see it through the full year. I could easily give it to someone else now and abandon the meeting, but that would be selfish of me. When you take on a commitment it’s traditionally for a year, and I want to prove to myself that I can achieve this. I haven’t lasted the course on many things in my life.

Super Saturday

It’s been a reasonable few days. The weather is beautiful at the moment, which always seems to make things better. On Thursday I attended the local step 1 meeting that I used to go to regularly; it was nice being back, sharing amongst those faces again. Last night I went to the big gay meeting in Soho, not because I had missed it but because I needed to find someone to chair tonight’s meeting in Notting Hill. I knew I’d be spoilt for choice last night, and it was fairly easy to find someone. I don’t get very nervous about these things any more. I guess I have all my previous service to thank for that.

 I got back to the job search this week. There is still no news to tell on that front. I suppose it’s my fault for taking such a long break from the hunt. Anyway, I’m back on the case, and I’ve been busy sending off applications here, there and everywhere for jobs that I actually want. I’m as ready to work as I ever was, but as always, there’s no rush. I’m waiting for the right thing to come along.

 The writing is still going well. My new novel is taking on an exciting sci-fi/fantasy edge, which I never thought I could pull off. I can’t wait to get it published!

 That’s about it for today. I’m having a good day, and there’s not much to say. I will probably go out in a minute to enjoy the late summer sun.

Loving or loved?

I felt a little better today. I’ve managed to do some reading and writing; my creative valve is healthily open at the moment, despite my ongoing anxiety. This evening I had the step 11 meeting to look forward to, where they have ten minutes’ meditation at the beginning. When I got there I didn’t feel as uncomfortable as I did yesterday, as none of the ‘Colin & Joe’ clique were there. I knew I needed to share about what had happened to me yesterday, and I hoped that I would get a chance after the meditation, which almost put me to sleep today. It was very relaxing. That’s why I like that room, it’s great for meditative practise.

 I got my chance to share, and I shared about the fact that I nearly broke down on the bus last night, which may have shocked some people who had no idea I was in such a state. That’s me – I’m good at hiding how I feel. As I talked about my fear and insecurity regarding the people, places and things in my life, I felt the familiar lump in my throat, just as I did last night, though tonight it was better because I seemed to be in a safer place. I knew that I’d got into such a state because I’m very good at torturing myself. As I have said twice this week, these are just feelings, they can’t hurt me. But my illness wants me to believe that everything is doom and gloom, all the time.

 I pulled myself out of the hole by reminding myself mid-share of the step 11 reading, which tells us that it is ‘better to love rather than be loved; to understand rather than be understood’. I don’t need rescuing from my life, I’m not starving or homeless. An objective look at my life would show that there is nothing wrong with it today. My sick head hates being objective, but I’m getting to the stage where it is becoming impossible to remain passive and victimised in my life. I don’t want to be a victim any more. I don’t need to be loved or understood any more than I already am - it’s time for me to start loving, understanding and helping others. When things don’t go my way, when friends appear to let me down and fail to live up to my standards, the best thing for me is to be as loving and understanding as I would be had they met all my expectations. Of course there’s a long, tough slog ahead of me when it comes to practising love and understanding. My two biggest character defects, co-dependency and passive aggression, are just about as powerful as they ever were, and they’re not going to improve overnight. I should have learnt a long time ago that acting out on my character defects wasn’t getting me anywhere in AA, but clearly I didn’t because I still find myself isolating, pushing people away with sharp, snappy responses when they’re trying to be polite.

 I’m not an impolite person, it’s simply the illness which makes me out on anxious occasions like this week. I have to detach from that faulty behaviour, those character defects, if I want to survive. How many times have I been here before? Many, undoubtedly. I hope I’ll learn this time. Well, if I can get to bed tonight sober I’ll at least have achieved something.

Two steps back

I’m fourteen months sober but I really feel like I’m three days sober. In my head I’ve gone back to being a newcomer, because I am just as resentful and fearful of people as I was a year ago. I have allowed myself to get carried away with this resentment towards Colin and Joe, and I can’t stop it now. It’s taking me to dark places, to thoughts of drinking, almost all the time. Tonight they were both at the meeting, of course, and I hated them. I was a ball of anxiety throughout the hour and a half, and it became so painful that once all the newcomers had had the chance to share my mouth burst open, I was ready to explode. I didn’t mention the resentment but I talked about the anxiety, the over-sensitivity, the self-obsession and the constant merry-go-round of negative moods. I said that I feel as if every time I make a step forward with my problems, I take two steps back. I talked about the horrific drinking dream which I’d had the other night, the one that scared me so much because it seemed so real. At the end I mentioned something positive about my day: I finally joined my local library, after years of procrastinating about it. So I no longer have to pay when I want to read a book. I’m really glad to have access to free reading material again, but I’m not glad that going to my home group tonight caused me to nearly have an emotional breakdown. Matters were made worse by the arrival of Johnny, the man who sent me several threatening text messages last year after a disagreement over a shared commitment. He’s a sick, frightening person who I never wanted to see again. He appears to be back in the program, which is great for him but not for me. I don’t feel good when I’m around him. It takes me back to my school days, where I felt threatened by everyone. Don, the man who has tried and failed for years to get sober, also turned up tonight, causing the usual trouble. I was so on edge the whole time, I have never wanted to be anywhere less. When it was all over at 9 o’clock I rushed home, not in the least bit tempted to go for coffee. What I had shared about seemed to go down well, as several people told me just before I left. Even Don approached me to say it had been nice to hear me. It was good of them to be supportive like that. I just wish I could have believed in the positivity that I shared at the end. I have a habit of ending shares with phrases like: ‘everything’s going to be OK.’ Normally that seems true, but tonight it doesn’t.

 I’m closer to a drink than I was even yesterday. On the bus home I felt like crying the whole way, and I began planning a relapse in my head. I thought about how nice it would be to go somewhere like G-A-Y club and drink beer, meet a sexy man and be irresponsible. That would be so easy. But I would hate myself in the morning, I’m so clear about that. It wouldn’t make me feel better in the long run. It would make everything worse, because I’d have to keep doing it again and again, and the blackouts would undoubtedly get me into so much trouble, and before I know it I would be a hopeless, lost soul like I was last year.

 Bad times with me pass like bad weather. I’ll probably feel better by the end of the week. And then something else will happen next week and I’ll feel shit again. This is a painfully familiar pattern in my life. I’m able to detach from it a bit and be objective about it because I’ve done step 4 in AA, I know exactly how my illness functions. The slogan of the weekend’s AA convention was ‘acceptance is the key’, therefore I guess I ought to accept that things really will be OK, no matter how I feel. All my problems are simply the result of uncontrollable emotions. I can’t stop myself from getting angry and scared and hurt and upset, but I can write and share about it, and people out there DO understand. Tonight on the bus I wished for someone from the meeting to get on and see me in that state, so that I could be rescued. Of course no one got on, so I had to deal with the pain alone. I could so easily have called someone and asked for help, but did I heck?! It’s not in my nature to ask for help, I’m a fucking alcoholic!

 I’m an adult now, I’m over a year sober and it’s time for me to change my own life. This pattern of fear followed by free-floating anxiety followed by resentment and isolation has become so old, and I’m really sick of it. My sponsor gets back from holiday next week. We’ll have to do a thorough step 5, as soon as possible. God, to think how much worse this would have been if I’d drunk tonight!

Help

This evening I attended the step meeting where I make the tea each week, and this week it was focused on step 6. I think it’s interesting that I should hear all about step 6 at a time when my character defects are certainly more salient than not. My reaction to Perry’s behaviour at the weekend was based purely on my character defects. Because I’m co-dependent, I was far more hurt by his decision to leave Weston Super Mare early than a normal person would be. I wanted him to stay and rescue me; yesterday when I came home I wanted to tell him about my feelings instantly. I might as well have said ‘please love me, please take care of me.’ It’s what I’ve said to people, especially men, all my life. It’s the normal reaction of a scared, abandoned child. When the child doesn’t get what it wants, it lashes out and punishes; my character defect in this area always motivates me to punish. It wants me to ignore Perry from now on, to hurt him in the way he’s hurt me. It’s such an old behaviour, but it’s not so easy for me to do it now, because I’ve been in AA for a long while and my recovery has enabled me to detach from it somewhat. I can see all the trouble that punishing people has got me into in the past, and I’m determined not to do that this time. I’ve sent Perry a friendly e-mail, telling him that it was nice to see him at the weekend and that I hope we can meet up soon. No mention of being hurt by his unexpected departure, and no mention of my ‘feelings’. The AA program says that it is better to love than to be loved, so in this case I know I ought be as loving as I can. It doesn’t matter that Perry hasn’t fulfilled the lustful fantasy which I was stuck in on Friday night – I am loved by plenty of people in my life, I don’t need anything more.

 After tonight’s meeting I rushed home quietly for the second time in a week, unable to stand the company of the ‘clique’, which includes people like Colin and Joe, who always go to that meeting. My resentment towards them is still going strong. I need desperately to discuss it with my sponsor. He gets back from a month’s holiday to the US next week, luckily. This resentment has gone on for too long: it’s eating me up and I keep thinking about drinking. I had a horrible drinking dream last night, perhaps the worst I’ve had in sobriety. When I woke up it was a good fifteen minutes before I realised that it had just been a dream, that my sobriety was still intact. For those fifteen minutes, I was quite convinced that I had gone back to one day sober, and that I would either have to leave AA or start the program all over again. I really don’t want to do that, and I’m really scared that I’m heading for a fall. I’m so clearly an alcoholic, because resentment eats me up in a way that it doesn’t normal people. Perhaps I’ll have to do step 4 again. Whatever it takes, I know I’ll have to do it. At any moment I could be caught off guard by alcohol. This is serious. Please God, help me here.

Fourteen months sober

Unbelievably it has been two whole months since my first sober anniversary. I can’t believe those two months have just gone. This time last year, when I was waiting to get to two months sober, every day seemed to pass so slowly, and that two month milestone seemed amazing. Today I think my fourteen month anniversary may pass by unnoticed, but that’s OK. I’m still getting over twelve months sober.

 Last night I returned from the west coast of England where I attended a national AA convention with Earl and our friend from the North, Perry, who we met up in Stockholm earlier in the summer. Being three of only a few Brits at the Stockholm convention, we bonded instantly there and have met up a few times since in the UK. On Friday we met up in the seaside town of Weston Super Mare, settling into our accomodation before heading to the first of a weekend full of speaker meetings. It was much like the Isle of Wight convention that I went to with Earl early in the year. There was a huge convention room filled with people and several speakers sat at a table on a stage at the front, with a podium to the left where each speaker took turns to share their story. As with all major conventions, the speaking was rather polished and dramatic, and I enjoyed it from the start. The stories that you hear at AA conventions are always extra special, plus you get to clap at conventions, which adds to the fun of it all. I’ve been to five conventions this year, and I don’t intend to stop there!

 I realised quite early on that my feelings for Perry had become slightly more than friendly. I knew I liked him in Stockholm, but I did nothing about it because he was three months sober at the time and I expected the crush to die off quickly, as they usually do. Unfortunately the crush hadn’t died yet, and I spent most of the weekend thinking of how I was going to ask Perry out. We were sharing a room and Friday night was agony for me; I could hardly sleep with him just yards away. I dozed off eventually, but the feelings hadn’t passed by Saturday, and I finally resolved to tell him that night, our final night there. We were planning to go out dancing; it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

 Saturday was a lovely day. After the morning meeting we went out for a long drive in the country. The weather was gorgeous, possibly the best we’d had all year. The clouds held off all day, and I felt like a child again, in the back seat of the car being taken to places I’d never seen before. It really was beautiful, and I know we all felt spiritually nourished by it. That evening we returned to the convention. After another large speaker meeting, it was time to get ready for the evening dance. It had taken some convincing to get Perry to agree to come with me. Earl was determined to stay at the chalet on his own; he’s 60 years old and says he’s never danced in his life. It was the same at the Isle of Wight, so I wasn’t surprised by his decision. I was just glad that I had one person to go with.

 Perry and I danced for a little while, but it was hardly amazing. I saw all the big groups of friends enjoying themselves on the dancefloor, and I felt that old left out feeling, because I was with just one person while everyone else seemed to be in groups of ten or fifteen. I thought about approaching people to try and make new friends, but people weren’t mingling, they were just sticking to their cliques. You’d think people came to AA conventions to make new friends, but most don’t. I guess we’re all as shy as each other, regardless of how sober we may be.

 At 10pm Perry wanted to go back to the chalet. I was instantly disheartened. I’d have to remain on my own if I wanted to enjoy the rest of the dance. There was no way of convincing him to stay. I stayed on my own for half an hour, after which I felt bored and depressed. I decided to return to the chalet, thinking at least I’d have a late night chat with Perry and Earl to look forward to. When I got back, I found Perry packing his bags. He had decided to go home one night early. He said that he wanted Sunday to himself. Under normal circumstances I’d understand this decision. Sometimes we just want to be by ourselves. I guess the thought of another day at the convention was too much for him. Of course there was no changing his mind. Within minutes he had packed and disappeared, and it was just me and Earl. I couldn’t help wondering what I’d done to upset Perry. I was sure there must be something. You don’t just leave a convention that you’ve paid to attend a day early for no reason.

 Sunday, the final day of the convention, passed by quickly and uneventfully. There was a small gay meeting where we managed to chat to a few people and familiarize ourselves with some faces. It was nice to be at a gay meeting again. Most of the sharing focused on sexuality and the problems that it has presented us with. There’s a camaraderie in gay AA meetings that you don’t really get in the straight groups. I suppose we naturally prefer to be with our own people, at the end of the day.

 Earl and I returned home that night fairly exhausted. It had been a nice weekend, but not nice enough for me. I was virtually devastated by Perry’s sudden departure. I had planned to tell him about my feelings on Saturday night – it was supposed to be so nice. Well, if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans, which is what I did. God obviously didn’t think it was the right thing for me to ask Perry out. Since coming home I’ve had to resist the urge to e-mail him and tell him everything. I could easily do that, but I know it would be old, unhealthy behaviour resurfacing. By wallowing in this obsession I might as well be seventeen years old again, needy and desperate. My heartache over Perry’s departure is clearly not normal: it is the unfortunate symptom of my co-dependency, which has never gone away. If I simply liked him in a normal way, I wouldn’t have been kept awake by my pounding heart on Friday night, and I wouldn’t have been close to tears on Saturday night when he walked out. My history of abandonment and rejection caused me to feel that old hurt on Saturday. So for once, I’ve decided not to do anything. I’m going to leave Perry alone, because I don’t want to put the pressure on him that my feelings would inevitably cause. He doesn’t deserve it. I’ve been here before in recovery. Six months ago I asked another newcomer out because I thought I was falling in love with them; they didn’t feel the same way and it practically broke our friendship apart. I don’t want that to happen with Perry. If we are meant to be with each other, it will happen in the end. I can’t force it to happen.

 The truth is that I keep falling for newcomers – I spotted this problem with my previous sponsor. I can’t believe it’s still happening. It’s like my heart is determined to get trampled on. Every time I fall for a newcomer I might as well be falling for some completely unobtainable heterosexual man, because you can’t touch newcomers in AA. It would be taking advantage. Luckily I know better now, and having realised all of this, I do feel better.