I had a terrible day yesterday. I fought with my partner the night before, and went pretty crazy. I sent him forty-five text messages, it didn't even seem that much until I counted them. I woke up yesterday feeling like I was hung-over due to stress and lack of proper sleep. But worst of all, I let my emotions put me in a position that was against everything I have been believing in: to treat others as I would like to be treated, and to spend everyday like it's my last, meaning to not go to bed with unresolved issues, and to not let a moment pass where a loved one might leave in the midst of bitter and hateful feelings. And I was verbally abusive to boot.
I went to ballet, and let all that hate leave me. I had a great class and truly felt like a disciplined dancer. This gave me energy to get to the store to buy a yoga bag, so that I can transport my mat with ease on the train, and then I hit a meeting. I love AA meetings, to the point that I sometimes feel guilty for going, and leaving my partner behind. How can I have such a great time, this isn't a reward. Where do I deserve this?
Last night, the guilt was similar, even though he was working and I'm used to being on my own after being separated for two and a half months. I believe I have been in the program long enough (January 2012) to have accepted my illnesses and the actions that are byproducts of them. I no longer feel that I am justified; I can no longer be a disgraceful person, and then go to a meeting and think I'm getting healthier, or that I am granted forgiveness for "trying". I am ready to take my lumps.
I have been wanting to get to this particular meeting for a while, but with my class beforehand and my want to see my partner after and to just relax from my over-packed schedule, I never did. Last night I was ready though, and I went up the route that I used take to visit my late friend at his work about fifteen years ago. A gorgeous area of the city with a calm, one lane which I never again had a reason to drive or roller blade along once he moved out of that area. I arrived about fifteen minutes after the meeting started (I am still mismanaging time and money), but I wasn't concerned, because it was a speaker meeting. This meant I could sneak in and take a seat in the back, with no one being the wiser.
Well, I was certainly not the wisest. In fact I was the most foolish. The only way into the meeting was through the front of the room! Yikes. I went back down the stairs, exited the church, walked around to the front, up the stairs again, and ended up in the exact same place! After poking my head around the corner a couple of times, trying to see to the back if there were any doors, each time retracting sharply in amazement of my predicament, I decided to retreat. I accepted that I was too late.
Then a man who resembled the city's mayor (so in other words a very likable looking guy) came up to me. I was slightly mortified. I exclaimed in a whisper, "You're not here to get me, are you?!" To which he said no, and gave some sort of reason which I don't remember. He was either joking or trying to make me feel better. I assured him that I wasn't new, and that I wasn't going in. He said that I could follow behind him. Then a couple of people passed by us to use the washroom, and he said "See, people are moving about now". (It was the transition to the second half, where a person would get up and tell his story). Still, not enough people! I asked him if there was a spot beside him where I could sit and he said yes. So with my head tilted down and my eyes doing quick scans of what I was approaching, I went onward.
I found a seat facing the podium, and he was along the wall, still near by. I truly felt like a child; sweet and scared, wanting independence but too afraid. Once finding a comfort, moving away from her caregiver. The speaker went on pretty long. He was coming up to four decades of sobriety and had a lot to say. His presentation was flat, but his story was incredible. He was the poster-child of the alcoholic who recovered through the fellowship. Tripled with my travelling to the meeting out of remorse, and then defiance to enter the meeting, I felt like the poster-child of the newcomer. It felt like it was my first meeting, but unlike the novice, I was beginning to understand the spiritual requirement for practicing the Steps, and right in the last five minutes of the speaker's talk, he said something where I truly understood why it is needed for success in sobriety. As if I had just done a lot of hard work, I began to think about food. I am not "dieting" but I am now on a low carb, high protein diet (which, by the way is awesome - my weight is down, my energy is up, and I can concentrate with relative ease). But I was a little stuck; normally I would get Kraft Dinner and be done with it, but finding something sustainable with five dollars was going to be a challenge.
After our prayer, I was told to go to the back and get some food. Really?! "Is it someone's medallion?" I inquired. No, it was the group's 67th anniversary. I was amazed; it just kept getting better. I soon discovered that it is oldest group in Toronto - formed back when the founders were still alive! And there was tons of food; it was a low turnout due to the Leafs game, I'm guessing. I ate fruit, veggies, sandwiches, and tons of salad. Yum! I left feeling grateful to have attended such a special night, and to be happily satiated.
Yesterday at sundown, I had transpassed my 200th day of sobriety, and exactly 6 months of not smoking (180 days). Being at this meeting was not a coincidence, though I didn't realize what would transpire in attending. Last night had turned out be one of the most meaningful nights of my life, and at 35 years of age, that is not a statement I write lightly. If that man who resembled Rob Ford had not practiced Step 12, I would have never walked into that room, and would never have been a part of that important and raw night. I still don't feel great today, I am still stressed from an unreconciled falling out, but inspiration doesn't have conditions, and I don't need to have everything in place to feel content or blessed anymore. I know what it means now to suit up, show up, and report to life. And you know what they say: life is a gift, and that's why it's called the present.
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