Out of all my feelings, the one that I'm most uncomfortable with is happiness.
How insane is that?
In this episode of Radio Rehab, my guest Co-Host David S. and I discuss what happens when things get good. And I mean really good. Like the kind of good that is unfamiliar and awkward. For me, when things get good, that's when I really need to get to a meeting. I can handle bad. I'm used to bad. I was in a very long relationship with bad. I used to do bad's hair and give it back rubs. I could go on and on with this, but I'll stop for your sake. When I got sober in 2001, things got good. And they kept getting better. When I had 3 years of sobriety, things had gotten so good that I forgot what the bad felt like. That's when I decided that I didn't need to go to as many meetings. At some point, I quit going all together. Then, when my dad died, I had absolutely no program of recovery to get me through it. And I drank. And we all know what happens after that. It's in the textbooks. I became a cliche. Last month, I made the most grown up and self actualizing decision of my life. I was in Vicksburg, Mississippi visiting my family. I hadn't been to a meeting in about 2 weeks and it dawned on me that I should probably go to one. That's when I had this realization (aka my disease whispering seductively in my ear): "Hey! I don't really need a meeting because I feel great! I'm having a joyous time with my family, no one is pushing my buttons and I have no urge to drink!" RED FLAG!!! Somehow at that moment, I knew in my heart that this is EXACTLY when I need a meeting. My disease persuades me by getting me away from my program so that I'm weak. Then I make a series of bad decisions until finally, I throw my hands up. I give up and give in. I'm not going to let that happen this time. I'm not going to quit before the miracle happens and I'm going to wait until every last one of "The Promises" come true. The literature tells us to be "painstaking about this phase of our development" and I've learned through trial and error what that means. I don't know about you, but I'm not smart enough to learn from someone else's mistakes. I have see for myself, like a total dumb ass. (See the chapter called "I think I can do heroin but only on the weekends.") I just hope someone out there can learn from my mistakes and take my word for it. I'm sorry for forgetting to blog for so long. I hope this helps somebody out there. Love, Dayna
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