At this point, I've decided to put my recovery first. I'd been trying to balance a sense of my old life with my new and found myself frustrated with what I was seemingly missing out on. I wanted to still be the guy that was always around, up for anything, the guy that played lead guitar in a band, that sat around conceptualizing idea upon idea, the guy that was always there for his friends, the guy that readily embraced the unknown with the promise of adventure. I didn't want to let go of my caustic self, my judgmental holier than thou witticisms; they seemed integral to what made me me. I found that meetings were time stealing annoyances, that calling members took me too far outside of my comfort zone; I didn't want all of this, I wasn't even sure I still wanted my sobriety.
I also didn't want to have to walk this path alone. It didn't seem fair, to be the sole individual from my circle of friends to embark on this sombre sober sojourn while everyone else could maintain the status quo, apparently free from retribution. I set myself up to feel miserable; not surprisingly, I succeeded. I'd been taught a lot in treatment (something I'll discuss in a later post) but once I was out, I didn't want to accept anyone's help, I didn't want to accept that this is what I needed to do and, if I was going to stay sober, I was going to do it my own way. I was back to believing that will power could be employed, that my thinking patterns were part of who I was, that I was a unique individual. I was bigger than AA; the program might work for the feeble and weak minded alcoholic and addict, but that I was different, I was special. Alcoholic thinking, I assure you.
My natural state is one of dissatisfaction. I'm irritable, restless and discontent. I think about myself before all others, how situations affect me. I can live in the most disgusting of states, not shower for a week, have no money in my bank account and still be judgmental of a stranger I pass on the streets. I don't need to have my own house in order before passing judgment on others because I'm better than them. I'm never satisfied with what I have, don't know what I want, and sure as hell won't work toward getting somewhere or something different. I embrace the circular thoughts that race through my head, caught in the centrifuge of my apparent brilliance – I think therefore I am, and I am David.
Recently, I haven't felt this way very much at all. Somehow, I remain David.
It's amazing to me how tightly I cling to this notion of an identity. How, if I'm not somewhat miserable and judgmental, I lose my sense of self. Drugs, alcohol and temporal distractions helped to alleviate my self-centred worldview (not that I recognized it at the time) and without them, I was at the mercy of my true problem: me.
So, after trying to do it my own way, I've decided to give AA a real shot. So far, I have to admit, I feel a whole hell of a lot better. I'm not looking to analyse it too much – that's what I did throughout treatment – because, at it's core, it's a stupidly, absurdly simple program. It's just a bunch of addicts and alcoholics hanging out, keeping each other sober by sharing their experiences. That holier than thou, self-centred worldview I talked about? Yeah, they all feel the same way about themselves. It's alcoholic thinking. The more I hear my own story in bits and pieces coming from other members, the less “special” I'm able to feel. And that's a good thing.
I'm not a different person. I never will be. My thoughts will always be somewhat screwed up, I just have started to realise that I don't have to simply submit to them, I can consciously change my thoughts, take new actions and not give into old resentments or fall into old patterns. I'm better than that, and I don't want to have to resort to drinking or drugs to relieve me from the bondage of myself.
It's hard being sober.
At least I'm finally being grateful for all the help. And learning to accept it.
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