Brilliant … But Bouncy

I Didn’t Do This On My Own.

Today I have 31 years clean and sober.

I didn’t do this on my own; I couldn’t have done it without Alcoholics Anonymous. I wanted very much to do it on my own. I wanted more than anything to not need any help.

And since I’d gone to a rehab in 1989, I thought I knew what was required to stay clean. I thought I could do it on my own. But in 1992, when I was so beaten down that I was incapable of getting back up, AA reached out and pulled me back onto my feet.

I still did everything wrong. AA’s suggestions were not suggestions I liked. Suggestions like “hang with the women” and “stay out of relationships for the first year” were particularly challenging for me.

I wanted to live my life without anyone telling me what to do. I didn’t want to make my bed, cook my own food, wash pots and pans, empty the garbage or take care of my aging car. I didn’t want to do anything to take care of myself; I wanted life to be “fun.”

I still have trouble with responsibility. My bed is made but it’s not beautiful. I am very lucky to have a man in my life who makes enough money to take care of almost everything, so I don’t mind taking out the garbage because he hates doing it. I am very blessed to have so much materially, but mostly to have so much love.

Still life is sometimes not fun. And when I realized this, I was almost 30 years old.

I’ve always seen things through rose-colored glasses, but not because I was optimistic. I am the biggest pessimist I know. But I have forced the world around me to be fun. Last week, I was nearly hysterical with laughter at the patients in a doctor’s office – all noisy and grouchy and ridiculous. I’ve spent my life making games out of the mundane, keeping myself entertained in spite of the horrors of reality.

When I was six, my favorite game was traveling to imaginary worlds. In my backyard, I pushed a “button” of peeling paint on a pole, then I’d spin around and around. When I got dizzy I’d fall down, wait for the head spin to subside, then “awake” in a new land – outer space, a dog sanctuary, another country, a zoo, an amusement park – anything I could imagine.

This should have been a clue that someday, I’d be … me. When I’m bored I still play this game, but without spinning. Inside my head, I can put myself anywhere I want.

Lately I’ve been visiting the past.

It was a year ago, on my 30th anniversary, that I decided to start telling my story. It took me awhile to really start delving deep into the details. Now sometimes my writing is too powerful for my brain; I’m fully reliving those years. When I sleep, I’m right there with people from high school or college or post-college stupors. Then I wake up wondering where I am.

I am so, so grateful to find that I’m in my huge, comfortable bed and not in a puddle of mud or vomit. I’m thrilled to make myself a healthy smoothie for breakfast instead of drinking from a bedside can of beer with cigarette ash in it. For 31 years, I haven’t offered my body in exchange for drugs. For 31 years, I’ve been able to make choices that won’t hurt me or the people I love.

Thanks, God, for my sobriety and for my life. I’m eternally grateful.