Me and Us

I've found the dynamics of social distancing to be fascinating and a kind of analogue to what we do in AA.  On the one hand it really IS all about me: I have to make the decision to stop drinking and then to do the things I need to do to stay sober.  No one gets to tell me how to do it.  What works for you may not work for me.  Someone shares their own personal experience with me and then I decide if it's applicable or not.  This is one of the reasons AA works so well: nobody is in charge, nobody has a rule book, no one has all the answers . . . other than me, of course.  I'm the Answer Man.

Conversely our first Tradition reminds us that the unity of the group is paramount - indeed, necessary for our very survival: Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends on A.A. unity.  I can't come into the rooms and do whatever I want to do.  I have to consider how my behavior impacts everyone even though I may not like it.  With my own personal self I get to do whatever I want - with my groups I have to adhere to guidelines that the majority thinks are in everyone's best interest.

Yes, frustrating sometimes.  But when something happens in society or at work or inside organizations that I belong to that I don't like that may mean that I need to buckle down and try to think of everyone's welfare, not just mine.  I don't want to be a prisoner in my own home right now and I'm not always completely convinced that this is the best thing to be doing.  Yet, it seems to be working.   

Yet I don't want to be doing it.

Zooming

Two months ago I had never heard of a video conferencing app called Zoom.  I wish that I had bought a whole shitload of Zoom stock because that is one popular app now.  I have been attending at least one Zoom meeting a day - most of our meetings are now online - since I was hurled into self-isolation, including some meetings three time zones away that were regulars for me in a previous recovery iteration.  It has been wild seeing faces that were a big part of my recovery lo these many years ago.

These meetings are somewhat satisfying.  They're more robust than talking on the phone but not as real as seeing someone in person.  And there is no auditory feedback which can be disorienting - no one is laughing at my hilarious jokes or giving me a robust Amen! at my piercing insights.   My technique over the years is to satisfy a lot of my socializing in the meeting-before-the-meeting and the meeting-after-the-meeting.  I like the easy familiarity, the comfortable back and forth in a one on one conversation.  Often it's more important to me than the meeting itself.  My home group is big and this tends to favor those who like to hold forth in front of a lot of people.  Sometimes these people are interesting and sometimes they're not.  I try to remember this: You are never as interesting to other people as you are to yourself.

I think that I may have some rats living in the crawl space under my house.  I don't want any rats living under my house.  I don't care how many are there.  One is too many.  Zero is the desired number.  I'm dealing with it to the best of my ability which means at this point that I've heaped mountains of rat poison in a lot of places that may offer egress.  We'll see what happens.  Probably I'll rub some rat poison in my eyes and go blind.  The last thing I'll hear before my vision blinks off is the sound of a bunch of rats laughing uproariously.  

This would make a great meeting topic is my point.

Buzzing Brain

I love how easily recovery phrases and concepts and quotes from our literature roll off my silky-smooth lying lips when things are going my way.  A spiritual giant when I'm getting what I want and avoiding what I'd like to avoid.  I sweep emotional messes under the Rug of Denial.

Ed Note:  I have been on the Nile River in Egypt and found it to be a perfectly lovely river, very undeserving of being lumped in with some toss-off recovery shit-phrase.  De Nile isn't a river in Egypt, my ass.

Anyway, I'm powerless over the Corona Virus.  I've been in self-isolation for about three weeks and I don't want to be in self-isolation except when I don't want anyone else around me.  As that's most of the time one would think that this isn't as hard on me and one would be more right than wrong. Nonetheless, if I want to go out then I want to go out.  I should be able to go out.  This virus is not very considerate.  This virus is not saying: "Hmmm.  Wonder what Seaweed wants to do?"

I wish I had thought of the concept of self-isolation before I had to self-isolate against my will.  It would be great to be sitting on my patio when some annoying, unwelcome person strolls by and opens his mouth to say something and I could yell: "Self-isolating!  Self-isolating!"  How cool would that be?  Maybe I could pretend I'm the Corona Virus and how long before some prog-rock hipster band calls itself The Corona Virus.  Posers.

Very weird to have an invisible enemy lurking in the bushes.  I find myself looking at other early morning walkers with suspicion as I ease out into the street, giving them a wide berth, wondering if they're a carrier.  When this is over I'm going to be curious to see what the new normal is going to be.  How quickly will people shake hands and congregate in restaurants?

I feel a low-grade buzz of anxiety humming up in a dark corner of my mind.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Anxiety and Worry and Stress, Oh, my!

So a bit of a hiatus comes to an end.  A global pandemic has seemed to loosen my tongue.

I thought this characterization of some of the mental agonies that so many of us experience was pretty informative.  I would credit the medical professional who wrote it but I've long forgotten who that was.  Nonetheless . . . 

"Worry happens in your mind, stress happens in your body, and anxiety happens in your mind and your body.  In small doses, worry, stress and anxiety can be positive forces in our lives.  But research shows that most of us are too worried, too stressed, and too anxious.  The good news is that there are simple (not easy) steps to help regulate your symptoms: Get enough sleep; eat regular, nutritious meals; and move your body."

And I wouldn't feel good about myself without digging up some definitions.

Worry:  A strong feeling of anxiety.
Anxiety:  An unpleasant state of mental uneasiness, nervousness, apprehension and obsession or concern about about some uncertain event.
Stress: Emotional pressure suffered by a human being or other animal.  

First of all, the anxiety definition totally kicks the ass of the other two.  The worry definition seems to me to be kind of lazy as it uses anxiety as its main modifier.  Maybe it's a chickenshit syndrome, totally intimidated by anxiety.  Then again anxiety is really overdoing it.  Reminds me of those people at meetings who talk too often and too long even though they don't seem to know what they're talking about.  And how patronizing is stress?  A human being or other animal.  Let's clump all the other billions of animals in one of two categories, the other being - of course - the magnificent Genus Human who is being schooled right now by an invisible virus.

See what all of this isolating is doing to me?  I'm even less coherent than normal. 

I Am Recovered-ing

There's this little contingent in our local AA scene who prefers the word "recovered" to "recovering."  Their point seems to be that implying that one's alcoholism is an active, ongoing concern is a lousy message to send to new people who might think: "What's the use if I never get cured?"  Personally I don't give a shit what these people say.  Personally, I'm never going to fool around with the idea that drinking again is an impossibility.  Unlikely, yes, but not impossible.  A well-stocked liquor store is a short drive away.  I just don't see the point of getting sucked into a semantic maze of circular logic.

I think it was Dr. Bob who said something along the lines of "If I keep doing what I've been doing I don't believe I'll ever have to take another drink." 

That I like.  That I can live with.

In The Moment

Moving into the future, calmly and slowly, or at least as calmly and slowly as I can.  This means I'm moving at about 80 MPH.  This is still fast by most standards but it's a lot slower than 145 MPH.  My inclination is still to mash down on the accelerator.  Fast is better than slow.  Fast is always better than slow.

I have enough; I am enough; I do enough.

Happiness is living in the moment.

Came To Believe

A phrase I like: "Came.  Came to.  Came to believe."  Nice and steady, nice and slow.

And another: "We get better physically, then mentally, then emotionally, then spiritually."

One of the guys I've enjoyed watching progress in his recovery from Day One spoke at the meeting this morning.  He took his girlfriend and her three little girls out trick or treating last night.  He was driving down a residential street with the four of them when someone on the sidewalk yelled at him to slow down.  He didn't think he was speeding, of course.  We're NEVER speeding.  We're the best fucking drivers in the world.

He stopped his car, opened the window, and said: "You're right.  I'm sorry about that" and then drove off.  Twenty five yards down the road he called her a bad name, a very bad name.  A couple of years ago he regaled me with a story about taking such offense at someone who honked at him that he followed the driver for a while, making himself late for the meeting in the process.  I have teased him unmercifully about driving ever since so today I made sure I told him that his behavior showed a lot of growth.

"I swore at this woman," he protested.

"I don't care," I said.  "Maybe later, maybe not so long, you won't do that, either.  You'll just think venomous thoughts while keeping your mouth shut.  One step at a time."

I really learned a lot this morning.