Green Lights

When I made The Big Move from The Old City to The New City I was traumatized as in Tra-Mah-Tized.  I was sick with anxiety before, during, and after the move.  Mostly, this is understandable - I was moving 2500 miles away from a city I had lived in for 20 years to a place I barely knew while simultaneously shedding 50% of my stuff.  It was not unexpected trauma but it was trauma indeed and pretty forceful at that.  As I contemplate my shift from The New City to Vacation Town I feel an eerie calm.  I'm not suggesting that there hasn't been any trauma involved over the last 2 months but rather that I feel like I'm on the right path, that I'm going where I'm meant to be, where I belong.  The New City was the right way point for me.  I think it was a good and appropriate step, just not the final destination. 

I was back at the transitional meeting today.  When it ended I hung around for a few minutes, welcoming a couple new guys and saying hello to a few friends, but mostly I was left along.  I can't emphasize enough how outgoing I am by nature - if you want to get to know someone quickly I'd be a great place to start and a hell of a great place to end.  Still, I felt a little isolated. 

Here I'm in the pool, splashing around by myself - in Vacation Town I'm in the middle of a raucous game of water polo.

I try not to use The Program as a social outlet - I go to meetings to stay sober and to try to repay, in some small part, the debt I owed to the men and women who passed along the message to me.  But I do find a rich social life in my recovery - it's important to me and I've missed it here.  I look forward to it.