Freedom Through Inventory

The Tenth Step of ACOA says that we continued to take personal inventory and, when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.

 

Freedom Through Inventory

Could I be wrong?

Is there even a doubt?

The questions raise little doubt

promptly… make that amend

centerness and ego take a back seat

relations with others and oneself

is the goal for happiness

serenity and peace will follow

it’s never wrong to admit fault

it’s never wrong to accept responsibility

it is said actions speak louder than words

yet… “I’m sorry” can heal many wrongs

the ego can be the road to destruction

humility the path to construction

building new roads... finding new ways

making life more enjoyable

it’s never wrong… to say i’m wrong

it’s never right… to ignore a wrong

it’s ok to be seen… as a human being

in the end the spiritual will awaken

a handshake… a hug…

the walls come down

a beautiful place to be

forgiveness between you and me

Step Ten of ACOA

Step Ten of ACOA says that we continued to take personal inventory and, when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.

When you first start a program of recovery, doing a daily personal inventory can seem quite daunting.  Over time though, the process runs like a fine tuned machine because over time you learn from your mistakes and they aren't repeated....


 

One of the hardest things to learn as a child is humility. A child has a strong ego. A child wants to be the center of attention and they live to always be right. Sadly, not only do children behave this way. Any adult child, who is not in recovery, knows they are always right… just ask them.

It all goes back to what was mentioned in the very first sentence – humility. Humility isn’t thinking less about yourself, it is thinking of yourself less. As an adult, that can be achieved as a child it is difficult. And as an untreated ACOA it is nearly impossible.

The hard part about being “untreated” and “treated” is knowing when what you are doing is for self-help and not an action of vengeance. Recently, I had a one-sided argument with someone who finished their discussion by saying, that they were more of a man than me because they were able to forget the past.

If you can forget it, have you forgiven it? Or did you just bypass all of that mumbo-jumbo? In my youth I tried to forget and it lead to suicide attempts and addictions to alcohol and drugs. By trying to forget, I nearly killed myself.

I had to find the humility to admit that I was powerless, that as a child I had no control. That part was difficult, yet I needed to do it to get to the next step which was having the pain acknowledged. I was physically, verbally, and sexually abused, it is not wrong, or make me less of a man to want it acknowledged.

What would be wrong, is intentionally hurting someone to justify my means to justify my recovery. An example, if I was abused as a child, than I have the right to abuse others. It would be easy for an ACOA to justify these actions. “It didn’t kill me and it won’t kill them!”

What is that old saying? Two wrongs don’t make a right. That is why as an ACOA, the need to admit our wrongs is imperative, not only to do, but to do it as soon as possible. If I don’t, the child deep inside of me will come to believe that the adult me is god… and that is a terrible place for an ACOA, as well as an alcoholic to be.

No Explanations

The Ninth Step of ACOA says, “Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”

No Explanations

So hard to not explain

there were reasons for the insanity

yet… it doesn’t matter

it was wrong… it wasn’t right

pains inflicted… so much hurt

survival was the reason

still not justified

“sorry” just seems to easy

an amend to long to make

hoping for an understanding

not concerned about forgiveness

just an acceptance

praying for freedom

from a past that won’t leave

a goal of peace

within and without

it can happen

a future together

first though… an olive branch

with no explanations

Making amends in ACOA

The Ninth Step of ACOA says, “Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”

When a person does a 12 Step program, every step feels like a new weight of the world has been placed on your shoulder. Step Nine is no exception to this rule. In fact, for me it was not only a difficult step to take but also a very scary one.

The hard part for me was that I could justify all my actions because it was a matter of survival. Not only emotional and spiritual survival but also physical survival. There were times I lied to save myself from physical harm. There were times I lied because I didn’t want someone else harmed – namely my mother.

Some things no matter how much I tried to justify it were wrong. Mom used to hide money under a corner of the carpet. Part was for household emergencies. There’s no doubt in my mind she was the financial wizard of our home, but when alcohol ruled the roost, that money was her private stash to buy her booze without anyone knowing it. I used to steal that money. How many emergencies happened that could have been avoided if I left that money alone. Sure, I probably stopped her from getting drunk a couple of times but it never stopped her entirely.

When I began to work these steps, both of my parents were dead, so I couldn’t make amends to them but I could make amends to my brothers. None of my three brothers accepted my amends, in fact, one said that I spend to much time thinking about the past. With the past I had, it is hard to act like nothing ever happened.

In fact, it wasn’t till late in 2015 that my oldest brother sent me an e-mail and said that he regretted no doing more to get me out of the terror that I endured. That was his word not mine – terror. After my brother’s death, I felt an uneasy silence from the one brother I have had contact with.

He e-mailed me on my birthday, with a beautiful passive aggressive message that ended with “At least I was man enough to let go of the past.” I wonder if he could have let it go, if he was my age when everything happened. For me, I tried letting it go and it nearly killed me by trying suicide. I tried letting it go by falling into a bottle and then some drugs – it didn’t work.

I had to look it square in the eyes and acknowledge it and come to the understanding that I was a kid. I was a kid, even when I was 30 years old, because I never dealt with the past. I was a kid who had no control, yet my alcoholic parents had control over me.

My point being that as an ACOA we learn to keep the secrets – no matter how bad they are. It becomes our family crest – a badge of honour. To grow, to stop the rage that has built up over many years, to finally become free from our childhood, is by doing the 9th Step. To do it with no justifications, just humility and with honesty to say what was done wasn’t right and I’m sorry for hurting you.

Inconceivable Denial

Sometimes we can't deny what has happened.  No matter how hard we try, the truth remains.  By denying  this fact, we can't find an end and with no end we can't find a new beginning.

 

Inconceivable Denial

can’t look away
can’t walk away
but… that’s all it can be
its inconceivable
everything that has
passed us by

but I wonder
what would happen
if… just if…
we had just one day
death… or life
who’s to judge

it would be a future
where no one
could venture safely
and hearts would be
broken… as well as healed
it’s a lonely world

where right and wrong
would become one
so night and day
would no longer matter
and the end… would be…
a new beginning to…
a new end…

Remembering the good

How does a person, any person deal with grief? Can everything be placed in an organized folder in our mind and dealt with in a day? Or a week? Or a month? No one has an answer and no one can give an accurate way to deal with grief.

I recently lost a brother and while we weren’t close, it still has affected me. Memories of the past, which are few and fantasies of what could have been.

I do believe in the old saying of never speaking ill of the dead. I have no need to do that. Read my books or past thoughts from previous writings and you will know everything that has happened.

After 40 years and now one death, it is time to remember some good things. Not to belittle Mike’s contributions to my life but with our age difference we really didn’t share many good times together.

Mike served America in the Vietnam War. I was 10 years old while he was there. I don’t remember letters he wrote or what I may have written to him. I do remember when he had a leave and decided to visit Australia, instead of returning home. I never really thought about it to just now but even then we did our best to stay away from home.

Anyway, while there he found that prices were really cheap and he mailed home – piece by piece – a state of the art stereo. I remember my dad setting it up and I played with it. That’s right, a valuable stereo and I was playing with it. I remember making recordings with his reel to reel recorder. Roughly six months later, when Mike’s tour of duty was over and he returned home… he saw first hand how much I enjoyed playing with his stereo. He never shamed me or made me feel guilty about playing with this valuable piece of machinery.

Within a week, he brought home some wood and plywood and made a beautiful cabinet for it all and he let me help, as much as I could anyway. I did get to stain quite a bit of it.

Mike was home for just about a year when I asked him if he would be my confirmation sponsor. As I knelt at the altar and the priest came in front of me, I could feel Mike place his hand on my shoulder. I was so proud to have him as my sponsor. He was a war hero… at least in my eyes… and here he was saying he would guide me in the ways of the church.

After Mike settled back in and went back to being a citizen with a full-time job, he invited me to go on a fishing trip with some of his work colleagues. It was deep sea fishing and though I didn’t catch anything it was a trip that opened my eyes. It was a father-son gathering. Mike didn’t have any children, yet there was enough of an age difference that for the first time I saw that we weren’t your typical brother relationship. And in reality, for most of my childhood, Mike was more of a dad to me than a brother.

And at times he even spoiled me. When he returned from Vietnam, he had brought home three boomerangs that he purchased in Australia. They were gorgeous. Hand carved, with art work engraved in them. Being a kid, I begged and begged to have one. And Mike eventually gave me one… which as a kid, I never really appreciated. I promptly took it outside and began playing with it, watching it fall to the asphalt on the empty parking lots where I tried to perfect the art of throwing it, until finally it just shattered into pieces.

Mike flew on helicopters while in Vietnam and got to meet many celebrities doing USO shows. He once sent me home a flyer for an upcoming show featuring a half dozen baseball players. He got everyone of the players to autograph it. Two of the players I remember till this day – Tug McGraw and Denny McClain. It was a very valuable piece of Americana – which as a kid I never truly appreciated. Looking back at it now, it is quite an honour to think that while flying in a helicopter, in what were very stressful times, he thought of me.

How truly sad, that as brothers, all of us, we were never mature enough to realize that what happened wasn’t my fault, or his fault, or anyone of our faults. Our parents were alcoholics, whose destructive behaviours affected us for the majority of our lives.

I wonder how many people have died filled with shame and guilt for things which they had no power over? As alcoholics, my mom was out of control, my dad was out of control, and they were in control of me. And while, my brothers were able to physically escape, I do believe my parents were in control of them as well…

Celebrating Life... real life

September. A month that holds new beginnings and life for me. On the 3^rd, I’ll celebrate one year of wedded bliss, in my new home – England. On the 4^th, I’ll give thanks as I will celebrate 22 years of continued sobriety and on the 15^th I’ll celebrate the gift of life as it will be two years since I had open heart surgery.

After reading what I just wrote, I sit here shaking my head in disbelief and in awe. I have been blessed with an amazing sobriety. It hasn’t always been perfect or picturesque but where I am today I realize that nothing would have happened without the “hiccups” along the way.

In twenty two years I have had two divorces. Whose fault was it? It doesn’t matter anymore, what matters is that I took that leap of faith and started a new life with absolutely no plan for the future.

When I got sober I was living in Seward, Nebraska and had a pretty good job and the security that came with it, yet I packed up and moved a 100 miles away and started life again. For the next 19 years, I called Beatrice, Nebraska home and went to new heights in sobriety and my work life. I was given so many responsibilities and used each one to further my career.

I had a simple life. The last six years in Beatrice, I lived in a small apartment, once again learning how to be a bachelor. I got out of debt and started travelling. No small journals. Big Ones. Across that little pond to the east that we call The Atlantic Ocean. I went to England. And after one visit I knew that somehow, some way, England would eventually be my home.

Not only do I love the country but I also fell in love with a certain person from that country. This gorgeous lady became my wife in 2015. While we live in England, we got married in Nebraska, so both of our birth countries will be forever a part of our lives.

When I got sober, I was scared, alone, and looking at spending some serious time in jail for actions that any

sober person would. Nowhere in my wildest dreams did I picture myself as an author. Nowhere in my wildest dreams did I see myself as the creator of two musical CD’s.

I never thought of life as being “alone.” In reality, I was scared to be alone. Yet, I learned how to do that the last six years I lived in Nebraska and I learned to enjoy and love my own company.

When I landed in Beatrice, Nebraska, I thought that this was it. As in, my final home, my final job. I was content to just live life in a manner that for me was a slow death.

So, once again, I threw caution to the wind and took that leap of faith and landed in England. And so far, that leap of faith has been wonderful.

The point is that sobriety has its fears and uncertainties, yet if I didn’t take a leap of faith and believe in my Higher Power, I probably would have ended up drunk again. I may have been able to stay sober without a Higher Power, yet I wouldn’t have enjoyed anything that life brought me.

I know I wouldn’t have written books, without a Higher Power. I know I wouldn’t have created musical CD’s without a Higher Power. I know I would have never ventured to England without a Higher Power.

And I doubt I would have survived my heart surgery without a Higher Power.

The Beauty

This poem was originally written in 2008.  I knew my marriage was over, yet somehow I wondered if a new life could be in my future.  Was it just a fantasy? A dream?  An illusion? Could it ever happen?  The more I thought about it, spiritually, I died a little more every day...

It was written after over a year that I wasn't "touched."  Not sexually, just touched... hugged... anything.  

reality can't top
a special touch
and the kisses we could share
on our own special island
no need for work
or bills to pay
just the two of us

exploring our home
hand in hand
cuddling... comforting
living together
just for each other
no longer fearing
intimate eye contact

a home with no walls
our windows
are the world around us
everything we see is a piece of heaven
everything we feel is a touch of grace

eyes melt before her beauty
moistness of a kiss
quenches the soul
its all part of the home
which is part of the illusion
and they wonder
are their homes the same

they may not share that home
but they share thoughts
intimate thoughts... those feelings
the feelings of secrecy
everyday they die a little bit
a secret they can't acknowledge
an illusion that never will be a reality

I Was A Man

As a child of an alcoholic, I grew up way to fast. And with this growth I threw away things that weren't needed for my survival - like feelings and emotions.

With recovery, I began to see that I needed to be a child again and learn functional ways to deal with life. 

I was a man
scared of the future
numb to the past
frozen... in time

a man who never grew up
drank to deny fear
drank to avoid pain
constantly on the run

I was a man
OD'd... poisoned
walking dead
nose bleeds... broken needles

eating out of dumpsters
sleeping under bridges
stealing nickels and dimes
for my next high

tried it all
booze... pot... LSD
cocaine... meth... PCP
a little heroin... just wanted to die
 
in the garage...

engine running...
the pain started to fade
and life... slipping away

but fate kept me here
change of life followed
and a journey started
... when he grabbed my arm

I was a man
now... I'm a child again
learning to walk
with dreams and hopes

I'm a child
learning to trust... and love
praying for a chance
to finally... do His will

Forgiveness Through Him

True forgiveness can not take place for a victim until they can find a part in them to forgive their perpetrator. 

 the skies split the clouds
and the heavens were before me
awed... speechless...
standing... then kneeling
my life past before me
both good times and bad

I begged to be forgiven
for my anger... my rage
the way I kept score
storing away resentments
like prized possessions
please... forgive me

from the heavens... He came
I bowed my head
not worthy... to be in His presence
I gazed at His sandaled feet
waiting for justice... to be served
waiting... waiting

He finally spoke
and I remembered the words
"It is better to forgive...
then to be forgiven."
He spoke of letting go
and to trust His wisdom

the past... he said...
is just that... the past
having no place in my heart
anger... I was told
kept us from connecting
in a way He wished

after His talk
my soul came alive
and I cried tears of freedom
letting go of the anger... the past
filled me with compassion
and love... His Love

Spirituality and the 12 Steps

Through my time on the web, I have met some very interesting people. Some of these folks have become dear friends. I share a lot with you - my audience. But these people have seen a more personal side of me.

I share this little bit about this side of me and this site because for every one of these find folks, I also receive more than my share of notes that are full of anger, disgust, and some just plain fanatics.

One of the most vicious of these people talks about the 12 Steps being "devil worship." While praising God, he runs Bill Wilson into the lowest depths of hell. While praising the Lord in one breath, his next is filled with wishing death to every member of AA.

I tried a couple of times to chat with this person, in what I thought, was a diplomatic way. But how does that old saying go? You can't win a pissing contest with a skunk. I finally gave up and started praying for him. That isn't meant to sound self-righteous, but rather an act of survival. You see over our short time of dialogue, this person became my higher power. And the only way for me to become spiritually centered once again was by praying for that person. The more I prayed for him, the more my Higher Power came back into my life.

It was through these conversations that I began to go back in time to my early recovery and my search for a Higher Power. I knew everything I needed to know about the religious God. And quite honestly I wanted nothing to do with a God of the church.

I grew up in a Catholic home and went to a parochial school. The god I grew up with was one to be feared. A god you never questioned. One in which you should feel "blessed" even in the face of unjust punishment.

That was the god I grew up with and it was a god I didn't want in my life of sobriety. So I searched. I studied the ancient mythologies, eastern philosophies, Islam, Judaism, Christianity, as well as Native American beliefs.

What I believe today isn't as important as the journey I took to get to where I am at right now. It was a rewarding experience, one which I honestly believe my Higher Power encouraged.

It was because of this journey that my belief in the 12 Steps got stronger and I began to compare the 12 Steps to other thoughts. The most logical was the 10 Commandments.

The picture above, I created about two months into my sobriety. Just recently I took that original drawing and created my first computer graphic of it.

The 10 Commandments are broken down into two tablets. The first one has three commandments dealing with our relationship with God. The second tablet has the other seven commandments dealing with our relationships with our fellow man.

I took that thought and created one for the 12 Steps. The first tablet has steps one through three and deals with our journey of finding our Higher Power. The second has steps four through nine and deals with the actions necessary to correct our past. And the final tablet has steps ten through twelve and shows what we need to do to continue a life of sobriety.

Memories... best forgotten

Yesterday, I went down memory lane... and not in a good way. It was getting near dinner time when I heard a loud thud. About a second later, a loud hair raising scream filled the hallway of the apartment complex I live in.

Then, screams of "help me." "Please, someone help me." I felt like an eight year old, hiding in my bedroom, listening to the screams, the punches, the walls moving.

Eventually, the police arrived and two drunks - a husband and his wife were quieted down. Not sure if anyone was taken away... but i am sure that memories of my childhood that I thought were long gone, are still very much alive...

Excuses

Excuses.  You talk to an addict, you’ll hear a million excuses.  By addicts, I mean alcoholics, drug addicts, gamblers, shoppers, sex addicts, anyone who has an addiction has an excuse.  Let me clarify that.  Anyone that has an active addiction has an excuse.

When I drank, I had a million excuses.  “I worked hard.”  “If you had a wife or kids like mine, you’d drink too.”  “I’m not hurting anyone with my drinking.”  The list was endless and like a word processor, an excuse would pop out that was perfect for the circumstance.

Looking back at it all, a person can see how childish this behavior became.  And in time how unattractive and ugly it became.  Now that I am entering my senior years, I find it extremely unattractive when it is someone from my own generation.  Someone very close to me in age.  I just want to scream, “Come on!  Grow up!”

The ones who seem to bother me the most are the spenders.  The free wheelers, where money is no object.  Check that – where credit is no object.  They are quite proud of their ourselves when they flash a coupon for a free meal and still spend $20.  They are so excited to get a free t-shirt, yet they spend $10 to get it customized.  In one sense they are tighter then Alan Harper, but then the next minute they’re spending the money faster then big brother Charlie.

When that change starts is when you hear the excuses.  When Charlie pushes Alan to the side and takes control.

As a person who does his best to live the 12 Steps, I see these excuses a mile away.  It is the mind of an active addict.

Though different venues I met a gentleman who has a serious problem with spending money.  It is a problem because he has no money.  He lives for coupons and for no interest for a year purchases.  Then scrambles every month to make payments.

It’s almost comical if it wasn’t so sad.  You see, this person is in recovery from alcoholism.  He has a number of years sober and supposedly lives the 12 Step way.  Yet, when I mention the 12 Steps with debt he becomes angry – that little child inside fighting any type of help, with “you don’t understand.” 

The other night this man said that not everything is about the 12 Steps.  For those in recovery it is everything.  In fact, the end of the 12th Step says to practice these principles in all our affairs.

The 12 Steps demand rigorous honesty.  Active addicts can not be honest and they live from one excuse to the next.  For this person, it is one purchase to the next.  A life of drama.  A life of chaos.  A life of an addict.

Why

did God give us tears if we're not supposed to cry ? 

The release and healing I feel when I cry is indescribable.

Yet, before I 'allow' myself to cry, I resist this very deep human need.

There have been evenings when I have walked up the hill to my home with tears streaming down my face. With each tear, the fear filled exhaustion I had been suffering transforms into one of peace.

Even though nothing has changed, everything has changed, the physical tension and pain somewhat eases and in that  absolute moment, I feel a sense of acceptance, of being loved, and of being held tightly in my Creator's arms. 

Why on earth did God give us Heavenly tears if we're not supposed to cry?  

Blessings, Snowie.




 

Perfect?

ACOA's Step 6 says that we Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

As a child of an alcoholic I learned to be perfect.  Perfect meant lying, it meant being deceitful, it meant that
whatever it took to be perfect I would do.

As an alcoholic, I learned even more how to be perfect.  It involved more lying and began evolving into
manipulation.

Whatever it took to stay perfect I would do.  Until eventually that perfect world exploded and all the lies and
deceitful thoughts and manipulative games were exposed.

That day perfection died...

Perfect?

there was a time where it was perfect

thoughts were perfect

clothes? Perfect

mind? Perfect

center of the Universe… it was all perfect

yet… some didn't see the perfection

they were quick to point out faults

it wasn't a fault… there were reasons

children of alcoholics can find millions of them

perfect… yes perfect victims

what do they know?

Don't need that negativity

everyone gets angry

everyone loses their job

it's just part of being perfect

for years this illusion of perfection was life

jobs came and went

friends, lovers, and even marriages

all came and went

no one could handle this perfection

perfection is shattered when God steps in

dropping to knees humiliated

hate looking in the mirror

perfection is replaced with disgust

praying for forgiveness… humility comes

eyes are opened… beauty is seen

a beauty that only one can feel

a beauty that can only be shared with One

yet others see it…

a new being… spiritually centered

what happened yesterday no longer mattered

what happens today is perfect

perfect because He is in charge

He created this day to be enjoyed

and that is Perfect

Having friends without buying them

During my partying days I bought many friends. These friends I would spend every waking moment with. Looking back at it, I can see they weren't friends. I bought their friendship.

They became my hostages. Whether it cost me a case of beer, or a bottle of whiskey, or an ounce of pot, or a gram of coke... I knew how to attract and keep friends. A little party and a lot of money.

I mention this little bit of my past because I know some people who still live like this. I'm not talking alcohol or drugs... rather parties involving food... dinner parties. Their friend has them over for a nice barbecue and instead of just accepting it as something friends do for each other, they feel obligated to pay back with an equally nice barbecue.

They go to a barbecue that had potato chips, hot dogs, and cheeseburgers. He can't have a party that is the same, his needs to be grander... his needs to be a party people will remember for a long time. His party has rib eye steaks, baked potatoes, and corn on the cob.

The idea of giving your friends a nice night is fine if you can afford it. Just doing it to outdo someone else doesn't bring happiness. It shows insecurity. I know that this person did not have the money to throw this simple party... the reality was that this person would have had a hard time just throwing together a hot dog barbecue.

This guy justified his barbecue by saying he could have used a credit card to pay for it and it would be even more expensive... so instead this 50 year old guy borrows money from his parents to have his party.. I use the term “borrows” loosely because I doubt this loan will ever be paid back. I mean, why pay it back? It's family right?

I share this story because this was me years ago. Nowhere in my thinking did I ever understand that I didn't need to do these things. It was OK to do without. There was nothing wrong with not having a barbecue. No one even needed to know I didn't have money... yet I always seemed to have to put on a show that was better then yours.

Bigger TV's, bigger stereos, newer cars... it was all for show. I had no money but the illusion gave me a sense of worth and part of that illusion was that I was better then you.

These thoughts of money and possessions never brought me happiness. It is an old saying but it is very true – money can't buy you happiness. Today, I do have a little money and I am happy. I don't shower friends with it, yet if someone has a legitimate need for it I will help them out.

You might think the highlight of my year is going to England... it is up there. Yet, what I enjoy just as much is being able to give money to my kids and help them and their families have a nice Christmas. And also giving money to The Salvation Army, helping an unknown family have a Christmas as well.

Don't let money own you or own your friendships. In my opinion, the best way to have money is to be humble, to have a sense of humility, and to be grateful. Because what you have today can easily be gone tomorrow...

For The Grace of God

Yet... for the Grace of God there go I. I go through different phases in my life where I begin to take my sobriety for granted. Don't get me wrong, I have no desire to drink, its just that at times I forget how truly an amazing gift I have been given. When this gratitude disappears I'm quickly put in the humility chair and reality slaps me in the face.

My landlord recently put a new window air conditioner in my apartment. It's a small apartment, so a window unit does the trick. Well the person who put it in is nothing more then skin and bones... very much what I looked like when I quit drinking. For me, my 6'4” frame held 130 pounds. I'm not sure if this guy even weighs that much.

Anyway, he came to put in the new unit but first he had to remove the old one. As he walked past me I could smell the booze and I went from relaxed to worried. I'm on the second floor and watching him battle the old unit out of the window and nearly fall backwards was about more then I could handle.

Then to watch him reinstall part of the window, which wasn't needed with the old unit, I had visions of him falling through the glass and me calling 911. The window finally went in and then the new air conditioner was battled into place. On the side of the unit, fresh new drill holes that were made trying to secure the outside frame. Heck with using the pre-drilled holes, let's make new ones!!!

Amazingly he left in one piece and the unit is working. I then went back in time when I was delivering furniture for Montgomery Wards. Every house I went into I was drunk. Hauling refrigerators into basements or upstairs. Fine furniture which the new owners didn't want a scratch on. How many of those folks wondered what kind of damage I would do to their property or to myself.

As I closed the door, my heart became filled with gratitude. So very thankful for the gift of sobriety. I thought of myself. After doing a job like that, I would head to a bar and continue my day long drinking adventure. Everyone I met would here about how hard of a day I had putting an air conditioner in a window.

The last thing on my mind at 5 PM would be dinner. Tonight though, that is all I can think about. As this person was thinking about his next drink, I was in my little kitchen, making a meat sauce for ravioli and in the oven will be a couple of pieces of baked garlic bread. And to drink? Iced Tea.

When I got sober, I had two goals. One was to never willing hurt another human being ever again. The second goal was to have a boring life. By boring, I mean the drama, the headaches, the blackouts, and everything else that lead to an insane lifestyle.

Having a boring life is actually quite exciting... and I thank God everyday for this boring life of mine.

One Choice... The Greatest Gift

ACOA's third step states that we made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God.

One Choice... The Greatest Gift

The greatest gift given to me

it provides freedom and power

that gift is choice

a life lived with choices

a life without God

was my choice

a choice filled with rage

a life of death

spiritually bankrupt

forever a victim

the pain... never leaving

the memories... forever fresh

then a new choice came

based on 12 Steps

a decision had to be made

turning over... my will... my life

a wonderful choice

a powerful decision

God... entered my life

peace followed and acceptance came

an acceptance that I was OK

that the past could be left behind

that I could love and be loved

thank you God for accepting me

ACOA Step Three

The third step of ACOA says that we made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God.

Growing up in an environment of anger, rage, alcohol, and most of all fear, it is hard to understand this step. I grew up realizing that I was the only one in charge of my life. No matter how dysfunctional that life may have been... it was still a life I could control. By that I mean I could protect myself.

The first time I ran away I was maybe five years old. I crossed a main road that I was told never to cross. I walked past the A&P Grocery store and kept walking. I crossed a second road and began my journey to a new life. Where was I going? Up to the Palisades Park. To me, that was a place of peace and beauty. Right next to the Hudson River, I could spend my time looking over the water and into New York City. How I would get across an Interstate Highway and then go down a narrow road to the park wasn't a concern of mine.

At that time, I didn't care about any of that. I just had to get away from the insanity. I had my little red wagon, a couple of sandwiches in it and some snacks and I was on my way. Later, I would learn that my father kept saying, “he'll turn around.” But I didn't. Finally, from behind a tree stepped a brother and my hour or so of freedom was over. They followed me shortly after I left. I never knew they were there. At that time, my total focus was on getting to the park.

I think of that time and the time I tried suicide when I was nine or ten. I hated my childhood... I hated my life. And as much as I hated it, I still had some control over it.

The idea, as a child, to give my will up to a god crossed my mind numerous times and more then once I tried it. And every time I was slapped in the face. I learned that god didn't care about truth, the god I grew up with only cared keeping the family secrets.

So as I grew, I fell further and further away from that god. The fear of hell didn't scare me, I already grew up in it, could it really be much worse?

Though this attitude worked OK as a child and even as a teenager... it started to become a ball and chain around my neck as I entered adulthood.

It wasn't until I fell hard from alcoholism that my life started to change. Yet, the more it changed, the more I felt that something was still missing. When I started looking at the 12 Steps of ACOA, things started to come together.

By turning my will and my life over to God, it relieved me of the power my parents still had on me. I carried the anger of my childhood for way to many years. And by holding on to the past, I kept my parents in my life. It gave me a reason to be a victim. I didn't have to be responsible for my actions because I survived a violent childhood.

By turning my will and my life over to God, I learned to accept my past. The anger left. Forgiveness? That didn't come right away, in fact it took years for that to come. Yet, at the beginning of this journey just getting to the point of acceptance was good enough for me.

With acceptance I was able to start living life on life's terms, which meant taking responsibility for my actions and to quit being the victim of this world.

Habits

Habits.  I don’t know if people have good habits or bad habits, rather I’d like to think of them as healthy habits or unhealthy habits. What habits do we possess that help us grow?  To grow mentally, spiritually, and emotionally.  These are the habits that I believe give us self-worth.

These thoughts popped into my head after a short discussion with an acquaintance.  This person lives for the now and has no thoughts for tomorrow.  He has often told me that he could die tomorrow and miss out on the joys of today.  That very well could be true, yet he also could be alive tomorrow and having to deal with the decisions he made yesterday.

I like the guy, yet he is like a kid when it comes to money.  It will burn a hole in his wallet if he doesn’t get rid of it right now.  And even when that wallet is empty, those credit cards are just chomping at the bit, to get out and buy something.  Here is a person who eats out everyday.  Yet, they felt the need to spend $320 on a new cookware set.  Why?

As I watch this person go from one buying adventure to the next and then watch the ensuing drama about waiting for his next paycheck, I can’t help and look back at my own habits and how they have changed in the last four and a half years.

Towards the end of my marriage, I just wanted to die.  I had no life, no drive – nothing.  And my habits reflected this attitude.  I’d come home from work and just hide in my little office.  I quit doing yard work, something I used to find enjoyment with.  I quit caring for the goldfish ponds I created and took great pride in.

Instead of shaving everyday, I might do that once a week.  I’d bring food into bed and leave the dirty dishes on the floor for days at a time… empty soda cans were everywhere.  I’m ashamed to say even my personal hygiene was non-existent.  If I had any money, I’d spend it just so the ex-wife wouldn’t get it.  It was a horrible way to live.

When I left that house and that marriage, I left with the clothes I owned, my computer and my sports memorabilia collection.  And that was all I wanted.  I didn’t care about a newer vehicle we had… I took the ’85 Olds.  I just wanted out and I wanted as little friction as possible.

When the dust settled I ended up living in a 600 square foot apartment, which is where I’m still at now.  I love it.  It is simple and easy to maintain.  I can’t own much because I don’t have any room for it.

By the end of 2009, I was starting life all over.  I was over $50,000 in debt and had no idea how to get out of it.  I was scared to answer the phone or even to open my mail.

One by one, I started working on those debts… creating new habits along the way.  First, to live with the money I earned and not with credit cards.  As the debts began to clear, I began to find some confidence in answering the phone.

And with that confidence, more new habits developed.  The bed was made every morning.  Personal hygiene was placed front and center.  Good eating habits developed and a healthy respect for money also followed along.  Laundry is done on a regular schedule.  The carpets are vacuumed and the
kitchen and bathroom floors are mopped.  Dishes are washed nightly.

It’s all about healthy habits.  It’s not about extra work.  It is about taking care of myself and having some discipline in my life, where there used to be none.