31...

Well, I made it.  31 years of living the miracle of sobriety one day at a time. Nights and weekends included.

Fuck, that is a long time!

I am picturing myself sitting in that first meeting.  Black eye, busted up lip from my ill advised fight with a hockey team.  Shaky.  Hanging super hard.  Terrified to stop drinking, but 50.0000001% more terrified to continue.  I was lying to everyone about everything.  I was dating three different men in three different states (none of them knew about the others).  I was burning my life down in daily installments.  Each night a suicide mission that I kept failing. My relationships were shit.  I felt awful all the time.  I felt like a fraud all the time.  I was lying all the time.  I was either drunk, recovering from being drunk or planning to get drunk 24/7.  It was not really living, it was existing and it was miserable...

But, then there were those “good” times where I had fun.  I met someone new.  I felt hopeful.  I didn’t destroy myself or others.  I went out and had a good time and then went home, alone. And as much as my bottom was replete with disasters, I still was "functioning," albeit not very well.  I was in my third year of law school.  I was working like four different jobs and volunteering 40 hours a week.  I was “functioning.”  I wasn’t doing any of it well.  Like at all.  And I was constantly anxious, worried and angry. Prone to not showing up, or showing up and behaving badly.

Could I have gone on? Could my life have persisted in this fashion for another couple of decades?  Probably.  And that fact, more than any other, terrifies me.  What wreckage would I have created if the bottom I hit on this day 31 years ago, was not the bottom sufficient to bring about long term recovery?

I would have gotten a DUI, probably several.

I would have lost my license to practice law.

I would have cheated on my husband.

I would have been a horrible mother to my children.

I would have been a terrible employee.

I would never have been able to start my own law firm.

I would have not evolved spiritually.

I would not have a relationship with God.

I would not have sponsored all the people I have sponsored.

I would not have been sponsored by all the people I have been sponsored by.

I would not have a faith that works in my life.

I would not have repaired my relationships with my family and friends.

I would not have ever been a worker among workers.

I would not have the health I do today.

I would have likely been to jail, multiple times.

I would not have been an example to my parents of what sobriety can do in one’s life.

I would not have been entrusted with service positions.

I would not have the ability to pause.

I would not have been a decent lawyer.

I would not have been a decent mother.

I would not have been a decent daughter.

I would not have been able to help anyone else.

I would not have changed into who I am today.

This much I know is true.

The life I have today is a direct and real result of my 31 years of recovery.  Who and what I am today is a direct and real result of living this miracle one day at a time for the last 31 years.

When I think back to that frightened 25 year old, shaking and off gassing alcohol fumes in that very first meeting. My heart breaks for her.  She was so misguided; so lost.  But I can see the innate wisdom, the strain of self preservation that was stronger, as it turns out, than her being hellbent on self annihilation.  She was so befuddled, so confused, so totally without direction and so very scared all of the time.  She was traumatized and committed to a path that only brought more suffering and trauma.

I am so very grateful to that girl for hearing what I believe to be the voice of God that day so many years ago.  That still, quiet voice that said, “Erin, how many times are you going to do the same thing over and over again and expect something different to happen?”  I have no idea why she listened to that voice that day.  I have no idea why she followed through with going to a meeting hours later when the abysmal despair had passed. It is one thing to reach out when you are sick and suffering, it is quite another thing to follow through after you have gotten some sleep, had something to eat and aren’t feeling quite so terrible.  But she did.  She went to that first meeting.  And then she kept going...for 31 years.

I haven’t loved it all the time.  I absolutely believe the biggest threat to long term sobriety is surviving the fellowship.  People remain my issue to this day.  It has always been this way, and although I have made some lovely progress, it is relationships I still find most difficult.  And I am grateful I know why today...

I have been committed the whole of my life to this belief, “you can create connection through disconnection.”  It isn’t true. But I have spent 56 years attempting to prove that is. It is time I gave it up. Time to surrender this stubborn and persistent idea and belief system to the God of my understanding and begin something new, “creating connection by practicing connection.”  I am laying down this false belief.  I am resigning from the disconnection club.  I am surrendering my will, again, still.

I am grateful for all the changes I have made, some willingly, others forced upon me.  I am grateful I am not still that terrified, drunk version of myself today. I am grateful for all the progress, recovery and life I have gotten to live sober.  But I am especially grateful today that I can still see work I need to do.  I have not outgrown the program.  I have not graduated.  I am still sick, in fact, I think the longer I am sober the harder it is sometimes to admit and see and then do the work.  Sobriety brings a level of comfort and hubris.  An idea of “look how far I have come!”  That can supplant the desire and need to continue to find the willingness to do the work. 

Today, I am most grateful that I see all my defects.  And the ones I am not currently seeing, life will point out to me in short order.  And I pray that I meet those moments with grace and a willingness to continue to do the work. I am not all better.  I am not recovered from a hopeless state of mind and body so much as I am still recovering, thankfully, blessedly, one fucking day at a time.  Again, still...

And for this I am so very grateful.

I will always be a work in progress.  Having to be humbled in new ways. Having to surrender again and again and again.  Having to do the work to change.  Having to find acceptance for the loss, heartbreak and pain that is an inevitable part of living. Having to see that although I have put a lot of time and distance between me and that drinking life, I am and will always be alcoholic.  From that I shall never recover, except on a daily basis still doing those simple things that I began doing all those years ago.

My life, if it is anything, is testament to what happens to us if we stay the course.  If we trudge the road.  If we are willing to take life on the chin, repeatedly, learn the lessons and begin again.  I am grateful to still be here after that first meeting. I am grateful for this life sobriety has afforded me. I am grateful to live happy, joyous and free for not only all of my days but for most of the moments of my days as well.  I am happy to have a default purpose to my life today:  Trust God. Clean House. Help Others.  Repeat.

Today, I will celebrate by paddle boarding down the Colorado River.  Just me and God. I will paddle my little life around Horseshoe Bend which I have been called to for reasons yet unknown to me.  God and I will paddle down the river and reflect on all that could have been, all that has happened and all that is yet to come.   And I will do my very best to be present and careful with this one precious human life with which I have been entrusted...

Again, still...