May. 18, 2016

I Wish It Was Magic

It is entirely conceivable that life’s splendour forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from view, deep down, invisible, far off.  It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf.  If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come.  This is the essence of magic, which does not create but summons.”     Franz Kafka, Diaries, October 18, 1921


It is there.  I must summon it.  I met with my therapist today.  He just thinks I should write it, and it will come.  I am in pain.  Everything hurts.  I don’t know how to write about pain eloquently.  Getting sober and feeling everything is a bitch.  To become really sober and find true happiness I have to find out why I am unhappy.  I am not unhappy with people or my life in general.  I am just struggling to be happy.  I wish I could just have a drink and relax and not have to think about it.  I can’t do that.  I won’t do that.  So, I sit with my feelings and my emotions.  I feel spoiled.  Childish.  I have so much.  The root of happiness.  The root of unhappiness.  I just want to shake myself.  Snap out of it.  I cry out to God. I don’t want to be this person.   I am an unhappy person.  There, I said it.  


It’s there.  We just must find it.  The right word.  I looked up the opposite of pain.  I looked up the opposite of fear.  That’s what I want to summon.  That is the life I want.  A peaceful life where I am courageous and brave.  Most days I have this.  Then, there are days that I am paralyzed by life.  I would like to say I don’t know why, but I do.  Because life is life.  I fear losing something I have, or I am anxious about not getting something I want.  This is the bottom line.  Philosophically I understand this, but when I am in my thoughts, I am overcome by the words I don’t want to summon.  Pain. Fear. 


I know what to do to get out of myself.  Be grateful.  Do something for others.  Pray.  Meditate.  There was a time I could have a drink and relax.  Take a pill and chill.  Those days are over. 


Recovery has taught me that I must do an inventory.  I must get to know myself and understand why I am the way I am.  I have avoided pain and fear most of my life.  I run away when I am afraid.  I avoid when things hurt.  I escaped with humor.  I escaped with alcohol.  Now, I am facing my pain.  I am facing my fears.  I am grieving what I have never grieved.  I don’t want pity.  I am summoning a new word.  Strength.  I want to be strong in all that I do.  The pain and the fear will pass.  I will always get to the other side.   I do not have to drink and I won’t.  


I am afraid to say this, but I am.  I wish there was a place where I could get an infusion that would kill this disease or at least attempt to do so. I wish I had a disease that a pill could cure.  That is why recovery is so hard.  There is nothing to make this go away, but working a program of recovery.  It is simple, but it is not easy.  I want to claw this inside of my brain.  The inside of my head.  I want to get this out.  


It seems so easy to think all I have to do is get out of my head.  Get out of my thoughts.  Don’t obsess about numbing my pain.  I am at a place where I want to get the “fuck-its”  and just go ahead, and a have a drink and just numb the pain.  But, I can’t.  I won’t.  I can’t drink like normal people.  I must do this one day at a time and keep moving forward.  People do die from alcoholism.  I have seen it, and I don’t want to be one of those people.  

 I don’t expect anyone but an alcoholic to understand this.  We don’t want pity.  We want to get better.  We want to be happy people.  We can be happy.   We just have to do it one day at a time.  I know these feelings are all normal....for an alcoholic.  For now, I am going to summon another sober day.