January 1 2009 (This Day)

Happy New Year!  Two thousand eight was another sober one for me, and I’m grateful.

Yesterday, I tolerated shopping for quite some time, then I tolerated hours of “year in review” type TV that Carole loves to watch.  I also tolerated not hearing from my kids (yet, it’s after ten in the morning) since shortly after midnight, when my son texted Carole and I.

The year in review renewed the sadness I felt over the election, when Hillary didn’t get to be the nominee or president.  I don’t want to be a bummer here.  But.  It was sad.  As for coping with it, I’ve developed a sort of mental scenario that gives me a little peace.  I imagine that before it all transpired, I somehow had the option of participating or not, caring, or not, knowing beforehand what the outcome would be.  Of course I would choose to participate.  The experience was awesome, just seeing it was unbelievable.  I know that in the bigger picture, this was a very necessary step toward equality for women, even though this particular one wasn’t reached this time.  I remember and understand that so often, activist don’t live to see the result the of their efforts, but we who are currently here, now, needed them and what they did to bring us forward.  I should also clarifty that my “participation” was mainly emotional.  I  cared about it.  Maybe in some little way I helped Carole really participate.

This is basically how I’ve been coping with this.  In the past, I had more hope that “things work out for the best.”  Honestly after eight years of George Bush, I don’t think they necessarily do.  So while I’m hopeful that Barack Obama is what’s best, I’m not sure.  Thinking about God being with me and us in the badness as well as the joy works better for me right now.  And again, I’m not sure.

Also with the new year and the new president, the happiness I cultivated is dimished more than I’d like to admit by his Rick Warren innvocation choice.  I try to get past it or be OK with it, but it reminds me of putting lipstick on a pig or pit bull, to borrow a metaphor.  Life on life’s terms.

Aside from politics, the kids I haven’t heard from yet this morning (did I mention that?) did very well in 2008.  Better than I could have ever imagined.  I also think of that to try and keep my worrying down.

Late in the year, I got a few shocks at work, and I’m still not clear on what’s going on there.  Actually that is the reality I must grasp, that I don’t know what’s going on, and if I ever think I do, I’m wasting my time.

I started this blog last February for my sobriety.  I really enjoy doing it, and I have every intention of continuing.  I don’t do it every day, and when I do it, I’m afraid it turns out long.  Sometimes the entries are so long that I don’t want to read them.  I do it more when I’m less busy, but I do it.  I like the balance I have with it now.

Sobriety.  Yesterday, in the mall, we ran into someone we know from inside and outside the program.  We have seen her struggle for probably seven years at this point.  She dropped out of sight a month or two ago, after having been coming to meetings for several months, and having a relapse or two along the way.  In the mall she told us that she had been far away to a month of rehab, having flown herself there in a blackout, and paying for it herself, since her insurance wouldn’t cover inpatient.  Her rehab was not Twelve Step recovery, but included “a little of everything, whatever fits you best.”  She said it was good.  She is not now going to meetings.  She’s working a lot, but as soon as the department store cuts back her hours, since she was hired for the holiday season, she’ll start going to meetings.  Maybe we’ll see her at our meeting next week.

Or maybe we’ll see her in the obituaries.  That’s honestly the way I felt.  Listening to her, she was just giving me the vibe of someone who will not make it.  I pray that I am wrong about that.  I don’t understand.  Having grasped the program tightly, I don’t understand someone who will go to all that expense and trouble to recover, but not follow the suggestions of AA to the letter for a while to give it time to work.  I want to shout that here I am, proof that it works.  Where is your rehab’s proof?  I’m right here, in your local mall.

Later today, Carole and I are going to dinner and games (I guess) at a friend’s house with mostly if not all people from AA.  Our friend will be working in the department store.  I’m left hoping that they cut back her hours soon.  In time.