Work to live

I just realized that the way in which I’ve spoken about my mornings and days here, might have implied that I spend my hours as some kind of yogi, listening to inspiration from the woodland creatures and watching TED Talks as I cook organic meals from homegrown vegetables and herbs.  That would be awesome, but let me assure you, that’s not the case.  While I took a 30 day hiatus from my usual life, I came right back home to the pressures that are all too familiar in our society.  Finances, children, groceries, sports schedules, and the like. 

I am eternally grateful for the 30 days away to begin to get my mind right.  And that’s what it was.  Literally, stripping away the poison which had invaded my mind firstly, then my heart.  I did not want it to be a waste of time and money (wow, how we hold these two in such high esteem), so I engulfed myself in the experience.  I threw what I thought I knew out the window of the dorm which housed about 40 other women, and started fresh, deciding to be a sponge in every way.  I paid attention to how I fell asleep, how I rose, how I transitioned into different activities on the schedule, how I felt when I searched for a seat at meals, whether or not I made healthy food choices, how I interacted with others, how truthful I was with my counselor, who I chose to call in the evening, what I read at night.

Truly. All of it. Because in its inspection, I found realizations of where I was starting from.

That didn’t make me simple. That made me smart.

I boiled everything down to the basic expectations for myself and discovered what I believe and what I value.  I found that I have an innate need to please and feel connected to others, and also an underlying independence that hadn’t been fully recognized.  And my values were very, very simple.   That was a lovely realization.  And I carried them home with me in my baggage.  

I still needed to make money.  That’s just a fact, ya’ll.  But I didn’t need to pick up where I left off professionally.  I had tried to qualm my fears of financial ruin for those 30 days, not knowing what would happen, and then I had to face the reality of being home without a job.

And within 3 weeks, I had been offered a new job with the company that my husband works with.  It was a new challenge in every way, and it also gave me parts of being a stay at home mom that had been missing in my life for years.  I work in IT and have a home office, which is why I’m able to spend the mornings thinking and writing a little instead of racing to school to prepare for an early day.  My work is relatively straight forward and not entirely creative, but I work to merge the two parts of my brain every day.  And I’m able to leave work behind me when my kids come home from school.  Spending time with my husband and children has taken on new meaning.  It’s even a tremendous freedom to be able to easily take to dental appointments and pick up my 9 year-old from the school, when they call and say that he is sick.  Other working moms and dads, you know this dilemma well.  Maybe it’s the fact that my priorities are a little realigned now.  Or maybe it’s that I have a job which enables me to be gone, without requiring an actual stand-in in the classroom for me to be able to leave the room. 

There is guilt in not working with my former students, but there is relief that I am so present for my own children.  After my divorce 5 years ago, my children are with me 50% of the time, and while it is painful when they are gone, it makes the hours when they are here, more significant in nature, and I strive to be available in every way.  So when I was teaching, if I missed a baseball game or after school activities, because of a rehearsal at my school, it absolutely killed me.  Because I already dealt with the guilt of only being there for a week at a time, so to miss anymore than that seemed like a curse.

I know that the nature of my present work and my flexible schedule have supported my recovery in ways that I didn’t even presume.  In truth, that just made me lucky.  It wasn’t entirely strategic in nature, just part of the decision-making process that includes figuring out the next best thing. 

And my boss knew exactly where I had come from 3 weeks before hiring me.  That astounded me.  Yes, my husband told the CEO of the company a few weeks before, when he took off time to come to family week, and stayed at a quaint cabin near the river.  I am still amazed that he didn’t question me at all.  Question my morals, possible past failures, my current recovery plan.  Nothing.  He knew me, and he hired me.  And it probably helped that my husband is the kind of human that he is.  Really and truly.  If he vouches for someone, they deserve it, so I had to think the same of myself.  So, I’m grateful to the both of them.  Both my husband and my boss, because they represent what is possible in acceptance, faith, and moving forward positively, because we all need that.

And so it IS possible to move on, it just may look different than before, and maybe that’s a good thing.  It was so simple to break old routines and expectations I placed on myself, and realign priorities for myself and our family. 

Yes, I’m searching to add to my plate now.  I know that any amount of boredom is not a good thing for me, so I’m in the brainstorming part of this plan.  Writing seems to be channeling intention in a way that reading simply cannot, so I’m intentional with both my input and output.  I’ve come to not only enjoy my early mornings, but need them as well.  I notice a difference if even for one day, I sleep a little later. It probably wouldn’t be a good thing to roll out of bed and sign on to work at 8:00 am.   That has actually never happened in the 8+ months that I’ve been working with my company.  I haven’t used an alarm either.   Okay, that probably has a lot to do with the fact that my melatonin chaser is water instead of wine, but I believe it’s more than that. 

I stripped my body of alcohol, and I stripped my mind and soul from expectations that bound me. 

It really is giving myself permission to do what I want my children to be able to do.  Strive for peace and balance, love whole-heartedly, and appreciate both simple happiness and the ability to move through sadness.  Because that’s just life, ya’ll.  I can be present at any giving moment and accept what lies in that moment.  We learn from rejection and failure possibly even more than their opposites.  Don’t erase those feelings.  (Uh huh, I’m going to say it.)  Embrace them.  Like a nice warm hug on a sunny day!  That’s making me smile now, because I really try not to be too cheesy.  But there’s bad cheese, and there is good cheese.  There’s Lifetime Movie Network and then there’s This is Us and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. 

I wonder what life would have been like if I had recognized addiction earlier, and if I would have made life changes that aligned with my beliefs and values.  But I can’t sit too long in that, for that time is past.  I’m middle-aged and a little late to the game that I wanted to play all along, but I have today.  I can still pay attention to all of the same things I did in rehab.  How I fall asleep, how I rise, how I transition into different activities in my schedule, how I feel when I sit at meals with my husband, whether or not I make healthy food choices, how I interact with my children, how truthful I am with everyone around me, who I choose to call in the evening, and what I watch at night. 

It is not lost on me that writing in this way could affect me getting hired as a teacher, if I ever decide to go back.  I left the school in a shroud of mystery, and no decent explanation can be made for students hearing that I left for “health reasons,” not if that’s all they heard.  I sincerely doubt that other teachers broadcast to the world that they went to rehab and that they drank badly, so I believe this makes me unique.  These positions of trust are vital to our community, and it’s very difficult to address whether or not trust is broken when addiction is admitted.  Now that I've been vocal about my past addiction, most employers know that there is no guarantee that I won’t drink again, so why would they hire me?  I would anticipate that their own prejudices and the feelings of parents and other administrators will be taken more seriously than my potential to be a talented teacher in the classroom.  So, I’m extremely aware that their risk to reward ratio might mean that I’m just not worth it.  Again, I don’t consider this to be negative, I just consider it realistic.  I think I would need to spend a little time in business school, because my first interview may require me to be a salesperson, not a potential choir director.  

Because if I judge this possibility by the people in my life, there are differences in how I’m perceived, even now.  Some accept my past, trust that recovery is an actual living thing, and don’t wait for the other shoe to drop.  But these people are few in numbers.  What I feel from most people is acceptance (which is wonderful), but also sometimes pity in a sense, like “awwww….it sucks to be you,” and…..pride in my efforts thus far.  That’s an interesting one for me.  When someone says that they are proud of me, I have to say that I feel a little like a child, although I know that they don’t mean it to be patronizing.  Perhaps this is a character flaw of mine, my independent nature rearing its head.  Usually these are also friends that understand addiction as a disease, but we all know that my battle and current remission is viewed differently than if I had a cancer diagnosis.  I’m pretty sure cancer survivors don’t get told by someone that they are proud of them, just that they are a bad-ass. 

You know, let me clarify the “proud of you” statements.  If you are proud of me for speaking out, yes, I actually do love these statements!  It’s much harder to do this, than my usual daily efforts at recovery, to be honest.  Although I consider this writing part of recovery itself.

No kudos you ever send my way are lost on me.  Truly, I need them.  It is not a usual thing for people in rehab or recovery to get flowers, and banners, and cards in the mail, because most people assume their bad behavior and immoral actions got them there to begin with.  Oh geez, and please don’t start sending cards now.  That’s not what I mean.  I just think it’s important to realize how we treat people in addiction and recovery. 

And in truth, most people stay quiet in both, now don’t they??  So, often times, they never get the chance to see how they would be treated by those who love them, mere acquaintances, and even strangers.  So even recovery becomes a solitary venture, unless they find fellowship in a 12-step group that shares their history.  As if this is the only place where true acceptance, understanding, and non-patronizing positive reinforcement is possible. 

Mike says that addiction just has bad PR.  And I find that perfectly put, and quite funny as well.  So perhaps I've started a little grass roots campaign.  And yes, I think I'm asking for your support and involvement.  You just have to decide what that looks like, or if I'm to be trusted at all, even in this.

I am grateful every day for another chance to create value and meaning in my life, and in the lives of those around me.  I spent years hustling towards something or away from something, and didn’t have the patience and consciousness to be in the moment most of the time.  I am aware that I can’t open a pill bottle to physically see my treatment each day, or see scans to prove how my brain has changed in the last 9 months.  And the same holds true for anyone present in my life now, and in the future.  And I have to say, this is probably the most frustrating realization I have each day.  Is there a magic date when the doubt stops?  I don’t doubt myself really, but what about others?  Especially now that I’ve let everyone into my reality.  

One year?  Five years?  I have no idea.  And it just can't matter.

So, again, I have to go back to one of the precepts of recovery…to take one day at a time.  Here’s to today.  Here’s to this morning. 

Let me be a vessel of all I believe and value.   

And let my words be instruments of truth.