Fit Recovery

Home » Cycling » What It Means to Cease Fighting to Find Recovery…

What It Means to Cease Fighting to Find Recovery…

January 2021
M T W T F S S
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

I saw someone neck-deep in fighting last night. She was about two hours from her last drink and it was the every bit the mess you’d think it would be. A couple of people were like moths to light with her, but I tend not to fawn over someone who is actively drunk. There’s the normal, “I don’t know why I can’t get it” blubbering, and I know, I’m supposed to be all weak-kneed and emotional about how hard it is, but I’m a little more of a realist. The “I don’t know why I can’t get it” blubbering while hammered at a meeting is a part of my past. I was a completely different person in the morning… because I wasn’t done, and that’s why I don’t get all motherly over someone actively drunk at a meeting. She wasn’t done either, and it took all of about 30 seconds to get her to admit this. “I don’t know why I can’t get it” turned into “I don’t want to get it” pretty fast.

Let’s just say that’s not my drama to get involved in. I can relate, but only in that when I was actively drinking, I’d tell you anything. Once I sobered up and alone, I was going to try to find another angle that would finally get me to drinking like a normal person again. I wasn’t ready to stop fighting, that’s just the way it was, until I was done.

I had to run out of options before I’d stop fighting to stay drunk. I didn’t fight getting sober, I fought to stay drunk.

It wasn’t until I believed I had nowhere left to turn that I was willing to stop fighting to stay drunk and let recovery happen. Perhaps it’s semantics, maybe it’s overly highbrow, but I do believe there’s something to that finer point.

In any event, including the one from last night, I am so fantastically grateful for my recovery. January’s Daily Reflections mainly center around the First Step so after reading the thought for the day at the meeting last night, before the late disruption, I spoke about how I regularly think back on how miserable I was before I arrived at treatment ready to give up. Hopeless is a good word. Contrast that to my usual mental state today and it’s no wonder I have a spring in my step. As I’ve said before, the hardest thing I ever did or ever will do in my entire life, I did at 22-years-old. It’s a toboggan ride after that, baby. Arms up all the way. Or a 100K with my wife and friends on my Venge.

I don’t remember my last drunk. I was too hammered to remember that. I remember how I felt after my last drunk, though. And today I have no desire to go back to that. For that I am grateful. Even more grateful for seeing firsthand exactly how hard it is to be done.


1 Comment

  1. Lisa M. Boyd says:

    We just went through this with someone who is a dear friend of ours. They will be going into rehab, and they lost everything in nothing short of a week. My husband exactly like you in his demeanor, and very frank when speaking to this person. You either want or you don’t. Half measures avail us nothing. You get what you put into it, and well you now have today. I was a little more sad, as this person is like our little brother. Me being a woman I was just so grateful to hear his voice calling my husband. In the days he was back out though we too have been so very grateful for our sobriety. We can’t ever forget that last drunk, or where we came from. We are powerless over everything, but our own actions. I have really enjoyed being at the beginning of the year, and back to the a,b,c’s. The rubber meets the road sobriety. Meeting makers make it. It has helped me let go of this person. Yesterday he wanted to go to rehab. Today though is a whole new day, and the first drink was taken and a whole 2 years was lost. Jailed and behind bars, job…you know the whole drunk a log. So now we will see since rehabs are a lot harder to get into with Covid if he shows to a meeting like was suggested to him. This is where I get to practice acceptance, and detachment. This is about my sobriety, and I know how hopeless I was. I know that there is nothing a drink will not make worse. I can though pray this person wakes up from slumber of their 7 day run, and really realizes the rooms are the last place on the block. Thanks for your share.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: