Affirmation.....

Did you ever have those days when you lift your head up off the pillow and it feels like it weighs 50lbs.? I did this morning. Sleeping with the windows open last night filled my head with gook. I awoke with pressure on my sinuses, red eyes, and scratchy throat. Needless to say the first look in the mirror was rather frightening this AM! I'm feeling a bit better but my eyes are still sore. But at least it wasn't from drinking! Last night I attended the "Daily Reflections" meeting. I love the intimacy of this meeting. It's held at a small local church and I enjoy the eclectic group of people that meet there. The reading dealt with the eighth step, damages we have caused, making amends and how alcohol had changed us. I often think alcohol is a quiet thief, choosing it's victims carefully. I guess as I think back I was a pretty easy target. Emotional, wanting to help the world, always going to save everybody, never taking care of myself etc. I bet alcohol took one look at me and said,"Uh-huh there's a sucker if I've ever seen one!" When I first started drinking I was silly and fun. There was a lightness to it. A "buzz" atmosphere. Drinking socially with our friends was fun too. We had some great times. Where alcohol turned on me is when I let it get to know me too well. When it saw how vulnerable I was it moved right on in. Drinking alone. Needing a drink to calm my nerves, then another because I wasn't calm enough, and then another, and another. What I didn't see was the weight I was putting on, the depression I was sliding into, the urge to sleep during waking hours, isolation. I stopped meeting friends out, avoided people I would see at a distance in the store, I even started communicating less with my parents. For a while my husband and I would have some terrific fights but in the end as my emotions disappeared one by one I gave up trying to fight. My soul was gone, sold out. People have said to me, "well at least you never got a drunk driving, or you didn't loose everything, or cheat on your husband, or hurt someone". Excuse me? Didn't hurt someone? Loosing your soul, your ability to care is like spraying shrapnel around a room full of people. Open your eyes and you'll see who you hurt. I let my children only get so close to me, I made my husband feel unloved, I sure wasn't a partner in any sense of the word. I became a crappy friend, because it was too much effort to go the distance, and I became an ashamed daughter because I no longer knew how to cope. Most of all I hurt myself. Any dignity or self worth, or accomplishments I threw out the window. I devalued myself as a person. You don't need physical evidence to display hurt. Emotional pain is devestating. It robs you daily until you stop. I remember when all those emotions came bubbling up to the surface. I felt like they were going to fly out of my being and drown me. It was physically painful to experience them all at once. I was crying, and wanted to scream and wanted to run and hide, and cry some more, and laugh. In other words it was crazy. But they were back and this time there was no alcohol to chase them out the door. What was interesting is that four of us ladies sat next to each other last night and we all had similar stories, just taking from one and adding to it. I heard what I had been wanting to hear for a long time: affirmation. People talked about doing the exact things I had done, that it took years to fix their marriages, their relationships, their souls. And I had been trying to get it all done in a year. I started to relax, and listen to the stories, and relate, and learn. Learn to take it slow. To just focus on my recovery and let God take care of the rest in his time. I left feeling validated. I'm on the right track, I just need to slow down the speed. For everything there is a purpose, for everything a season, for everything a time. So I left and headed home. Was greeted by my two youngest whom I hadn't seen the whole day. They were full of stories, and happenings . As they finished their baths, and settled down for the day, I came upon my oldest painting a cermic bust of Nephrititi. He had been working on her head for hours. Very patiently, very intently. His long fingers holding the brushes lightly, knowing that each stroke has value, and for once I didn't fail to see the metaphore of life. For everything there is a season, for everything there is a purpose, and it all takes time......