14 November, 2024
Recovery is a full contact sport.
I have misconceptions and expectations about everything. This is not new for me, it’s how I have been since I can remember. I consider myself fairly experienced in life and moderately well read. I learned little from my past experiences and less from the libraries of books, academic journals, and cutting-edge blogs I read – at least as it applies to sobriety and this journey to live life happy, joyous, and free. Or I have changed enough in recovery that I am viewing things as a completely different person. It’s most likely a combination of both. The irony is that despite my diverse experiences and studious literacy, I have held on to stereotypes, misconceptions, and expectations on virtually everything including recovery, sobriety, surrender, acceptance, and much, much more. Most of the time these foolish ideas must be beaten out of me by my higher power and my sponsor, which I am thankful for.
When I first started working with my sponsor he incessantly repeated “faith without works is dead” and recovery is a “program of action.” He reminded me of a drunken parrot or one of those child’s toys that you wind up and then says phrases out of a small speaker. In reality, he was more akin to a primary school teacher as I was thinking two plus two equals three, and he was shouting “no, idiot, two plus two equals four!” Coming out of 42 days of residential treatment for alcohol and PTSD, I started to work the steps and I still equated powerlessness, acceptance, and surrender as negative concepts that I just had to handle. In rehab I admitted my powerlessness over alcohol and my ability to do anything to bring back the lives I lost in combat. I accepted that I had explored virtually every medication and exhausted all attempts to maintain sobriety through ego and willpower and in abject desperation stripped away every previous conception I had of a higher power and surrendered to an unknown. I still wasn’t happy about it.
However, months and months later I am still sober. I listened to my sponsor then (and still do now), I worked the steps, and modeled my own program after his. It certainly is a program of action that is intertwined with my daily, normal activities. I wake up and walk the dogs while coffee brews and I say my prayers outside. I do a quick meditation and then do my readings. I either go for a run or go to the gym, text my sponsor, text my sober circle, and reach out to sponsees. I go to a meeting on most days. I actively pursue service to those suffering. I reflect on my day as I get into bed and compile a gratitude list. At most this is a two hour task that I accomplish while still doing other things and little sacrifice is involved. Other times though, the bill is a more considerable. Listening for hours to a fellow warrior in recovery who is struggling; excusing myself from dinner with the family to take a phone call from a sponsee who is going through a sobriety threatening experience; driving an hour to a buddy’s apartment littered with whiskey bottles and half eaten pizza then taking him to detox; pushing myself harder physically on a run or deadlifting heavier in the gym because I don’t know what else to do with my emotions. The list goes on and on.
Where I once thought sobriety was equivalent to simply not drinking and passivity, I have found that its more like a cage fight except the opponent is myself (yes, exactly like Fight Club). I hurt when I hear about a fellow warrior in recovery dying by his own hand or overdosing. I take it personally and question myself when a sponsee has a lapse or goes AWOL in full relapse. I doubt my recovery when I fail to live up to my code of conduct and spiritual principles. These are the proverbial shots to the head and body that I take. The worst is when I take myself to the ground, trapped in self-conceived misery. I get back up, I learn to better guard myself against attacks for these perceived failures and challenges are just teaching tools, unrealized opportunities, and potentials for personal growth. I should start putting a mouth guard in because my recovery is absolutely a full contact sport.
