- my child is a mess,
- my husband's health rubber bands between relatively healthy to not functioning on a sometimes hourly basis,
- my other child is struggling to read and keep the rest of us from dragging her down,
- we moved 3000 miles away from the place that I loved, my sponsor, my friends, my climate - where my ego believes I should live,
- we are out of money and I have no idea how we are going to find jobs when my
- husband isn't well enough and I have a more than full time job keeping everyone going and the home fires burning.
It seems that my life is run by so many things outside myself. I get so lost in my days and so little time is spent focusing on my own needs that I forget that I have them until I snap. My child doesn't say thank you for getting him a drink, my husband gives me a look when I make a simple request. And I snap - I lose it. I react - badly. Then I am so far gone that I don't even stop to notice that I am gone...those are really bad days.
Have you been there? So far past the pier that the beach no longer exists? Adrift in my own ocean with no raft, no supplies...nothing but a lot of salty water and me. Oh and fear of what lurks beneath the tumultuous surface. I dare not look. I don't want to know what fate awaits me - an out of the blue shark attack from below, a tidal wave that I can see coming but cannot escape, or my muscle fatiguing at a far greater rate than my progress towards the shore that I know instinctively is out there somewhere. Fear grips me and I want to just give up. It is pointless anyhow. It is just a matter of time before I go under either from the failure of my own power or by a power greater than myself be it tidal wave or oceanic beast.
I have live in that ocean of Erin a lot. Way too much actually. It is one of the main reasons that I left California...willingly. I was swimming towards the shore but I couldn't orient myself long enough to settle on a course and then commit. I had a great life from the outside looking in but inside living it - it wasn't fun - it was hard and I was so tired. I was floundering in my own sea and finding small islands upon which to rest. And as grateful as I was for the brief rest from swimming in circles - I still thought that I needed to find a new course. So off I would go in a direction that was usually suggested by one of my many island visitors - but it wasn't my direction - it was theirs and so I never landed on my own shore. And upon the visitors shore I would try to make it mine. I tried so hard - I worked tirelessly. But very shortly I would either be visited by a new influence or arrive dissatisfied in my own conclusion and off I would swim again desperately searching for dry land that would provide me the safe harbor from my storm. I was so unhappy but so unwilling to let go. As is always the case with me, when my grueling swim to nowhere exhausts me completely emotionally, spiritually and physically then and only then do I surrender. I admit that I simply do not know what course to take - that I do not know if that safe harbor will ever exist for me and in that admission of complete defeat I am saved. But never in the way that I think I should be...
And as it has always been, I do not seem to have that inner core - that place inside that is capable of talking louder than all the other voices that surround me - that inner compass that directs me to where I am supposed to be. I have always had to flail around, swimming in circles. I wish it were different but it isn't. It is just how I am. I have to be going under for the last time before I will ask for help - universal help.
And so I went under for the last time and held my breath and prayed the prayer that only the dying and desperate know - please, please, please help me. The prayer that doesn't ask for a particular type of help, for the help to look a certain way - to come wrapped in a particular fabric or paper. Just for help in any way, shape or form. And just as it always has - help came.
The help that I received that day came in the form of blurting words from my mouth. I don't know why this seems to be the way that help comes to me but it is. Help came in that form when I came to after my last drunk - "I am going to AA today!" I blurted out from the backseat of a car to people who didn't believe me. And so it was. Alone - desperate - beaten into submission I went to my first meeting and began a very long road to recovery. On the more recent day - I had been in bed for 3 days unable to summon the will to dress, bathe or care about much of anything. I was confronted by my husband. He wanted to know what was wrong with me. When I said I didn't know - he wanted to know what I planned on doing about it. I again said I didn't know. He then asked, "What are we going to do?" Then the blurting words..."I think we need to move back to Florida!" and so it was. This time I was not alone - I dragged 12 animals, 2 children, 2 semis full of household goods and 1 husband - beaten and desperate back to a town I couldn't wait to get away from once upon a time.
So here I am in Tallahassee. A town that I hit bottom in 19 years ago. A town that has family, my favorite football team, people whose faith I envy but does not work for me, weather that I detest, bugs, rain, some old friends and a past. A town that I do not fit into at all. I am not southern. I am not Christian. I am not racist. I am not a meat eater or hunter. I am not most of what I see all around me. Yet somehow I am coming into my own. I found a home group that I love. I get to see and spend time with my mom and she helps me with my children and gives us desperately needed respite. I have a sponsee that I truly love and enjoy. I am back to seeing my therapist that helped me get sober 19 years ago. My children are in a wonderful private school that is helping them grow and learn in a safe environment. My husband has access to VA medical care and has the opportunity to rest when either one of us will let him. I am finding help from professionals to assist our son and in turn our family. I am sleeping well. I have a lovely home - plenty to eat and too much time on my hands.
I have many things to be grateful for (as always) and also have many things that I wish were different (as always). Some days, I can only see all the things that are wrong or need attention or should be different. Then other days, days like today where I see it all plainly, simply and it is all ok exactly as it is. Nothing is supposed to be different, nothing is wrong, nothing needs my attention. I have allowed myself the time to write. The time to be alone with my thoughts and breathe. The time to allow my soul to open and to pour out on the page. I need this - I always have. I think I started keeping a journal when I was about 6. Having a family has really curtailed my writing even though they give me so much material to write about. I say I don't have the time but the truth is I don't take the time.
And that is what I have learned today - time passes, things change and life will always leave me adrift in my own ocean - awash in the myriad of minute details and dilemmas of my choices - achieving little peace. Or I can hold my breath, allow myself to go under the stormy surface - collect myself - decide to accept all of it exactly as it is in that moment and then resurface often in exactly the same spot that I went under but with a new perspective that allows for universal will to guide me to my next safe harbor. And safe harbor has always meant surrender and acceptance to me. Surrender allows me get out of my way long enough to set a course in the direction of meaningful participation in my life and the lives of those about me and acceptance allows me to achieve peace one moment at a time.
