4 Months and Counting

It occurred to me last week, and this wasn't all to difficult to realize, that my six-month mark is the day after my birthday. That means every six months I will have a birthday - my actual day and that which AA celebrates as a year of sobriety.

Last Wednesday was my 4-month mark, which unfortunately, like the month before, went by without any fanfare. I'm not talking ticker-tape as a necessity, but for the past couple months there have been preoccupying thoughts at this certain time, and I didn't even think about it until the next night at my weekly meeting (I really like this meeting because even though there are about 275 attendees, I feel much more centered, at peace, and alone than at any of the smaller meetings I attend.)

Perhaps ironically, perhaps not, after writing a friend to say that overall things seemed just fine (on the night I completely forgot was significant) is when life decided to remind me how rough things really are. Thursday was pushing an emotional boulder up an active Vesuvius and all day was spent knowing that there was nothing I could do to escape the pain. Without alcohol there is no easy escape, as artificial and temporary that means would offer. There is no escape anymore, and rightly not. Life is not to escape, but to experience, not matter how unbearable it may seem at that moment. By Friday morning, it became akin to walking on a broken ankle, alone and far from help. You can't do damn thing but move forward. Jolts were surging through my body, winces and grimaces, pangs of loneliness and deep, deep breaths. I am fortunate enough in life to know myself well enough, especially now, to recognize this is only temporary, and at times beautiful. The beauty I found was in the fact that no matter how heavy my heart became, it never felt sunk, beaten, or empty. I could feel that in all of these moments of weakness there was something holding me still, keeping my heart in my chest and air in my lungs. I could feel this comfort wrapped around me and inside me, to keep a modicum of strength till it blew over. I would like to think this was my own personal power, and perhaps in the grander scheme it really was, but deep down I know it is the higher power I surrendered to four months ago. At work later that day I received two pieces of news that turned everything around. I passed the test.

I've always felt that God does not exist externally but is there within us every second, and that praying to the heavens is neglecting this idea because we do not give ourselves enough credit. It is experiences such as last week that bolster this opinion, that when we're in the really rough spots, when we feel the most alone and hungry, when the pain can be almost crippling, we find the power to not only move forward but look forward and know that in simply holding on, and accepting the sadness as real, it will work its course. It also reminded me that no matter how bad things seem, I can always remember that I walked out of the most frightening situation of my life on April 12th, 2009...and that's why don't like to forget those dates!