April 24, 2012 (this day)

The leaves on the trees are opened much, much bigger and wider this year than last.  I took this picture exactly one year ago today, and difference is striking.  It’s been such a warm winter, it frightens me.  Global warming, the myth, and all that.

Today, Barbra Streisand is 70!

I went to work for a while this morning then came home to work here.  I had a craving for McDonalds.  Carole followed me right down that muddy path and we both ate it.  We’re a bad combination in that way for each other.  But today I’ll be glad that she doesn’t and I don’t drink or smoke any more.  We haven’t for a long time.

And menopause is making me sick.  I believe it.  Nauseous.  My back hurts more than it has in a long time, and the exercises I do when it hurts aren’t helping.  My knee pains me and today I made an appointment to go see an oral surgeon to see if he can save one of my very back teeth.  My dentist said this guys puts a camera down in the gums and kills all the infection.  I asked her how long I will need this back tooth for.  50 years?  40?  30?  20?  She commented that if I left the office and got hit by a bus, all my dental work will have been for nothing.

The final report that I was worried about beginning in the end of February is in, but no one has said a word about it.  Still waiting, and plotting different futures, and trying hard to appreciate what I have this day.

At my meeting last Saturday, a “chronic relapser” like me asked what everyone does to stay sober.  For a chronic relapser like me, I shared my number one strategy.  Don’t drink.

April 13, 2012 (this day)

Today would have been my father’s birthday.  I guess he would have been 76?  He died when he was 33, from alcoholism.  This fact drove me to AA, and makes me fear for some of the people I know who continue to suffer.

I’ve had another week at work.  The report that will detail what I did wrong has not yet been submitted.  Meanwhile I was asked today to do something, and I said no.  I don’t often do that.  I was asked to learn how to teach people to do the physical techniques we use on our clients in emergencies.  My agency needs some people to go learn to be trainers, since in the budget cut/layoffs the whole training department was laid off.  I said no mostly because I don’t feel physically up to it.  I’m very short.  Too short to do most of the techniques.  But I’m also getting more feeble by the minute and I have something really wrong with my back and at least one knee.  But I will truly take the fact that I was asked as a compliment, and maybe a sign that all will yet be well there.  The important lesson is, as it always has been, that I need to be grateful for what I have today.  For what I had in the past, yes, and for what I will have in the future, yes, but mostly for what I have today.

There was a politician at the door earlier.  I am left of liberal and very political.  But Carole chased after him to ask how he felt about same-sex marriage.  As part of my daily moral inventory I will record that I am extremely resentful when straight people want to deny me the right of marriage.  When Democrats do it, it is all the more infuriating.  I know that this will come to be standard one day, and the only question is if I will live long enough.  And that’s selfish.  I’m sure people are dying in my state right now who didn’t get to marry and it’s just so wrong.

The ideal is for me to humbly accept that I am discriminated against and I just can’t get there.  This is very personal.

I really try to stay away from the news of politics because I know who I’m voting for, I know whose campaign I will give time and money to.  I don’t need to hear what the others have to say and I don’t need to get worked up about this stuff.  I just need to be healthy and live a really long time.

What would my father think?  I have no idea.  My mother seems OK with things . . . alcoholism made it so that I have no idea what my father would think of anything.  He’d probably be astonished that this is even a question and as for being OK with me as a daughter?  I will never know.

If Our Circumstances (Step Twelve continued)

If our circumstances happened to be good, we no longer dreaded a change for the worse, for we had learned that these troubles could be turned into great values.  It did not matter too much what our material  condition was, but it did matter what our spiritual condition was.  Money gradually became our servant and not our master.  It became a means of exchanging love and service with those about us.  When, with God’s help, we calmly accepted our lot, then we found we could live at peace with ourselves and show others who still suffered the same fears that they could get over them, too.  We found that freedom from fear was more important than freedom from want.

My fear of not having everything I need, or think I need, is lessened very much from how it was years ago.

I just watched a documentary about Ayn Rand, and in it she explains why she thinks it’s wrong to care for other people.  She called it giving up your life for others, and this to her was like suicide.  If I understand her correctly, which I most certainly may not.

It just made me think about the way I exchange love and service with others in return for money.  It’s actually the government that pays me.  I take care of adults who have profound disabilities, and the agency that employs and pays me to do it gets its money from the government.  So really the tax payers pay me to do this.  In the past I would have been working at an asylum or institution or state school.  Now these folks are cared for in the community.

Anyway I get a very selfish pleasure from doing it.  I get rewarded far beyond what any amount of money could give me.  It makes me wonder if I’m missing something, or if Ayn Rand was missing something.  It’s a service I provide in exchange for money to live, and for me it’s more pleasurable than digging a ditch or painting a bridge.

But calmly accepting my lot has never been a challenge for me, because I’ve always had much more than enough and I’ve never really “wanted” anything in the spirit of the text.  In this way I can probably be most helpful to other spoiled suburbanites who irrationally fear that someday, we may not have enough.

March 13, 2012 (this day)

Ten minutes of terror.  Afraid at work, as usual, and a big boss wants to talk to me, it’s important, he’ll be right there.  Only he wasn’t, and I waited.  Is this “it?”

Now it wasn’t an idle ten minutes.  The nature of my job is that there are things going on constantly, constantly, we work at home in order to concentrate for any period of time.  So it was busy but it also gave me a chance to touch true anxiety, fear and uncertainty, to know I was in it, to examine it and maybe one day lessen it.

I read my meditation for the work week.  I change it (weekly) and read it Monday morning and seldom remember after that.  This week it is about change.  I don’t like change.  I “hate” change, unless it is clearly a change for the better.  Even then, doing something like moving to a better building, which would be very good, is tinged with anxiety and badness, because it is “change.”  Anyway my thingy to meditate on says something along the lines of everything is changing constantly, and God made it this way, so why not use some God-given talents to embrace change, talents like visioning, imagery and imagination.  As it is with all of these sayings, I saw for the “first” time that it says “maybe” I should learn to use these tools.  Maybe I should!

So worry, fret, do some work, pace around.  Big boss arrives and his question has nothing to do with my current worry.  And then he gives me a compliment.  And then a (difficult) client comes and gives me a compliment.  And then I wrote this.  And now I’ll move on.

March 6, 2012 (this day)

I went to work today and fretted more about the job.  I won’t know for some time.  In the not knowing I cling to different meditations and prayers.  No coincidences in AA?  I think there are a few.  But I’m listening to some Clancy tapes in the car to and from work.  He said something about some prayer he has on his wall.  (Had?  Surely he must be dead)  Yesterday in a moment of extreme distress at work I clicked on World Prayers and spun the random prayer wheel.  I had the fleeting thought that maybe something fitting and meaningful would come up and this is what did:

My Lord God,

I have no idea where I am going
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself,
And the fact that I think I am following
your will does not mean that I am
actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please
you does in fact please you.
And I hope that I have that desire in all
that I am doing.
And I know that if I do this, you
will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you always
though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death, I will
not fear, for you are ever with me
and you will never leave me
to face my perils alone.

the merton prayer – thomas merton

So, not in the shadow of death here just yet, at least not that I know of.  But yeah, it fits.  Really I think that I can do a good job or a poor job of serving God and my fellow human beings wherever I work.  It’s just that, among other things, I know where the pencils are kept where I am, and I like it that way.

And there are the 14-year relationships I have.  I like those too.  After work today I went to a school to visit a young man who will graduate from school and come to my program.  The challenges he faces every day are more than I can imagine.

Someone I used to work with was diagnosed with cancer last May.  This time last year she was getting sick, thinking it was pneumonia or something, going to the doctor, trying a treatment.  Now after chemo-radiation-surgery it’s not gone, it may have spread.

Carole just told me that someone we know in AA lost her son in a motorcycle accident today.  I used to go to the same meeting as this woman every week, but that was years ago.  Years go by and I don’t see her.  I saw her a few years ago when she told her story at a meeting I attended.  Then some more years go by.  But I know such intimate details of her past and she knows mine, if she remembers.  It’s an odd family we make here, loosely organized, as they say.

My kittens will be one year old tomorrow.  Having them in the house surely takes my mind off of the ones who were here last year, dying.

Tomorrow I’m going to work again and, because of my crisis, I’m going to love it more than I ever have before.  But I’m also going to concentrate on the stress and tediousness of it, on the part of me that often wants to let it go and stay home and volunteer for the historical society and literacy volunteers.  Because I’m afraid I might lose it soon but I know I will lose it eventually.

So I learn more every day about living in the now.

This All Meant, Of Course (Step Twelve continued)

This all meant, of course, that we were still far off balance.  When a job still looked like a mere means of getting money rather than an opportunity for service, when the acquisition of money for financial independence looked more important than a right dependence upon God, we were still the victims of unreasonable fears.  And these were fears which make a serene and useful existence, at any financial level, quite impossible.

Rarely do I experience a “this was meant for me to read it right now” moment, but this is one.

These were fears which make a serene and useful existence, at any financial level, quite impossible.

The nature of my job is that it happens, from time to time, that I worry about losing my job.  It is regulated my many entities and the regulations and regulators fill volumes.  My job is not protected or unionized in any way.  If I am wrongly fired, the most I will get is unemployment payments.  Another aspect of the nature of my job is that I work with fragile, fragile people.  The fragility and the regulations and rules all combine to give me many opportunities every single day to do the wrong thing.  And sometimes I do the wrong thing.

So it happens every few years, I think, that I worry about losing my job.  That is happening now to me.  And as usual I won’t know for some time how this particular situation will play out.  It is not unlike waiting for tests results in fact, it’s a lot like that.  Because all the while I know that while I’m focused on this, some other thing could be conspiring right now to bring me down.

Which it hasn’t.  Not yet.  Not one time that I worried, was I in danger.  And my worries are couched in the cushiest of human circumstances that anyone ever had.  It embarrasses me to list them.  But there they are.  If I lose my job I will not lose my – health insurance – marriage – children – home – pets – lifestyle – retirement – friends – sobriety – or anything else, really, but my job.

I love my job.  I’ve been at it for almost 14 years and the experience and relationships are irreplaceable and precious.  They are also not mine forever, but only for a time, and I don’t know how much time.

I have never looked at my job as a mere means of getting money.  It’s hard work and it doesn’t pay well at all, not compared to what it asks.  It has always been an opportunity for service and sometimes that service can be quite humble, like wiping someone’s butt.  Financial independence rather than a right dependence on God?  I have more of a problem with this one.  Financial independence is important, and I don’t know that I could be serene without it.  Depending on God is great, as far as it goes, but I know that as I write, people are starving to death for a lack of food, and that they could be me.

Am I missing something there?  I know that I have far, far, far more than I need or deserve.  I’m not really afraid of starving to death because of my circumstances, I think that I won’t ever starve to death.  I don’t feel special or blessed or chosen in that way, just lucky.

But back to me and my job.  The lesson I keep trying to learn better is that these times teach me I have only today.  Today I have the job.  These times help me appreciate, during the hard times at my job, that I have it and I love it all the more for having been afraid of losing it.  That keeps happening to me, and I’m glad.  I’m acquiring more serenity and appreciation as I get older and that is all good.  And all due to the program.

And I feel like a bit of a failure that my anxiety peaks so high on these occasions.  There’s something I’m missing.  I’m not done learning yet.

 

February 28, 2012 (this day)

Last year at this time I finally lost faith in my car and its ability to take me on the 23 mile a day one way trip to work and back, and the 300 mile trip to my daughter’s, and I bought a brand new car for the first time since 1992.  I’ve driven 11,000 miles since then and it’s prompted me to change the oil once so far.  And almost every day I remember to be grateful and to appreciate the fact that I’m not worried it will break down.

Someone I work with got hurt.  This isn’t unusual, because the people I work with, both the staff and the clients, are fragile.  It’s troubling and sad and frightening, because often they don’t recover.  There’s all that every time but in addition, this time, I’m worried it could be my “fault.”  Did I fail to do something I should have done?  It’s not out of the question.

So along with having my reactions, I examined my reactions.  Hope for her well-being is my number one reaction.  But after that . . . is it my fault?  Should I cover up?

Should I cover up?

With 27 years of sobriety?  No, I should not cover up.  Should I admit it?  Yes, I should admit it.  But what if I admit to something I didn’t do, and everyone likes and accepts that explanation, and it goes down as being my fault when it isn’t?

It would crush me to lose my job, but I would survive.  I’m in a very enviable position of being able to be supported by my wife, though that would be at her discretion, of course, since legally we aren’t married.  Still our relationship is good and I can believe in that right now.

So, what if I’m wrong and I don’t admit it?  Will I eventually drink?  I was thinking of psychological “baggage” and that this situation is like being handed a suitcase full of crap.  I have to unpack the crap in order to get rid of it, and then I’m flinging the empty suitcase into the fire.

I had another interesting thought about it, which is that I might want to try and trust the process.  There is actually a formal process that seeks to explain these things and to see if someone actually is fault.  It may be that no one is.  Then let’s say that there is someone at fault, and let’s say it’s me.  I could then trust the discretion of my bosses to decide if I should stay at work or rent a U-Haul and clean out my desk.  I’ve been there for a very long time.

Trusting the process and trusting the bosses and trusting Carole are the most soothing thoughts I’ve had about this.  And I do wish someone would update me on the actual situation.  I glanced at a newsletter this morning that said something about “absolute honesty.”  Those are the kinds of newsletters I receive!  Well, one kind.

Carole’s on her way home from a few days away.  She’s helping the folks I work with protest budget cuts tomorrow.  Then, we’ll take our son for a birthday dinner.  He’ll be 24, or 6, depending on your calendar.   Twenty-four years ago I spent the day in labor and just about anything I do now will be better than that, but without such a reward, obviously.

Wisdom to Know the Difference (from the Serenity Prayer)

I’m wise enough to know that basically all I can change is my attitude.  Or, actually, my attitude and my behavior.  In other words, me.  All I can change is me.

It’s difficult when I’m called to change something else, like (especially) the work someone else does or fails to do.  My number one way to do that is to be an example, but, sadly, some people just won’t follow my of example of, for example, being on time.

But to back up from this picture and take a broader view:  There are people who are chronically late (for example).  I can do what I can to get them to change this and happily some will and sadly some won’t.  How much this disturbs me is up to me.  The latecomers will always be with us.  I should not let them distress me, even if I think it’s a darn shame.

December 31, 2011 (this day)

The view from the hospital window.

It has all been so very complicated, simple, and unrelenting.

Carole is recovering, at home now.  My mother is here to help.  My daughter is here to visit and help.  My son pops in to eat.  Carole’s niece came through on a visit to friends.

I’ve been back to work.  End of the year craziness has my work partner threatening to retire.  It’s been a hard year at work, ending with lay offs.  As 2012 begins, we will have to take care of the things that those who are laid off used to take care of.  Already that is unmanageable.

My home group’s meeting is falling on New Year’s Eve tonight, like it did on Christmas Eve last week.  Every year, Carole and I have a party after the meeting on the Saturday between Christmas and New Year’s. This year we debated a little bit (she wanted New Year’s, I wanted Christmas) until it became apparent we would have to party, we would tend to her knee.

Still the meeting will be a bit festive in the way our meeting is.  That is, unrehearsed and pretty much unprepared.  Someone offered to chair and bring food.  Someone is celebrating an anniversary.  I will start the coffee and put the soda in the fridge on my way to get Carole’s medicine, then come back and hopefully get her over there for the meeting.

I’ll thank God that whatever I did in 2011 enabled me to take care of these things at the end, and I can go into 2012 (the year, if I’m lucky, I’ll turn 50!) with hope.

December 11, 2011 (this day)

I can’t believe it’s Sunday again.  Last week went by in a total haze.  I was sick.  Really really sick with a cold.  I think it’s been a few years since I’ve been sick.  And this one went with post nasal drip that made me cough.  I’m still coughing.  But today I feel for the first time like I turned the corner on it.

Usually, I’m able to take off from work when I need to.  Or should I say often I’m able to.  This week I wasn’t.  There were lots of things coming together that made for a difficult week at work.  We had our annual open house on Friday, where we sell crafts the clients have made and use the money to pay for the Christmas party, which will be this coming Friday.  Tons of preparation goes into that, along with the actual event, while the regular work piles up.

Monday, a few short hours from now, my work will also upgrade the computer system.  I expect weeks of chaos and lots of extra work to follow that.  We also had a sticky situation where someone in the company who doesn’t work directly with us was being rather unkind.  This caused interviews and discussions and all kinds of things.

And coming up I have the Christmas party, Carole’s surgery, my daughter and her cats to visit, and Christmas.  My mother is coming around Christmas to stay and help with Carole’s recovery so my mind is much much at ease.  I couldn’t imagine how I would handle it all without that, though of course I knew I would handle it, one day at a time.

I went to my meeting last night but didn’t go out after it.  It was the only meeting I went to for that week.  I’m really OK with that.  I feel fine about it, I feel the same, and if I didn’t, I would have dragged myself to more meetings.  At 27 years sober, this is how it works for me today.

Now I’ve painted my nails and cleaned one litter box.  I’m going to try and ease into this week like I am totally fine.  I can’t believe a cold hit me so hard.  My chest still feels kind of awful but I’m not coughing as much, and last night my head didn’t fill as badly as it has every other night.  Yes, I’m better, or at least acting as if.