Welcome to Day 20...
When I started telling my AA group about my dreams, I heard chuckles around the room (and immediately became paranoid, "Why are you laughing at me?")... they were laughing because they could understand, they'd experienced the same thing, the same fears, the same "THIS SUCKS!!" attitudes.
So, I write to you with a slight grin, of understanding/shared experience.
One of my recovery books suggested that I journal my dreams, even if they made no sense, brought about feelings of shame, or whatever. At first, I thought it was stupid but did it anyway, because someone "told me to."
So, I did, and it helped. After a few weeks, or a month, I will sometimes go back to a dream that was horrifying or confusing, and realize that I can understand it now.
For me, it helped to "move" those thoughts from my subconscious to my conscious mind, so that I could deal with them in logical terms. Have you thought about it?
Have you called a sponsor, official or unofficial?
a friend in recovery?
found a meeting?
expressed your feelings to your spouse (sometimes a good idea, sometimes a bad idea, depending)?
You did the right thing in coming to SR and telling us...that is progress. Hang in there.
I've recently had an image (like a video clip) playing in my mind, expressing to myself the difference in what I thought recovery was vs. what it really it. I feel grateful that I've been given the opportunity to share it with you.
It is the image of myself after I've presumable fallen deep down into a dark, damp, smelly old abandoned well. I look up and see someone--an AA buddy--standing above, outside. I call out for help, reaching up my arm, hoping to feel a rope or another hand grip around my own. I feel nothing. This person shows no emotion, nor expresses anything to me. I look away, then feel something hard hit me in the head. I yelp out, "Hey! What are you trying to do?!? I asked you to help get me out of here!" I feel something else skid past my shoulder, then a few smaller things, then another heavy item. By now, I'm really getting steamed. I holler up some choice words, shaking my fist, and saying, "If you're not going to help me, you could at least stop trying to kill me!" The person remains standing just outside, in the warm, dry sun. I shake my head, angry that the one person who is capable of helping me, refuses to do so.
I give up. I drop to my knees. I decide it's not worth it.
Then, I start feeling around me. I pick something up, noticing it's size, weight and shape. I find something that seems like a toggle switch, and I fiddle with it. A bright beam fills the darkness... It's a flashlight! I use it to see all the other items that were dropped on my head...rope, chain, a hammer, and numerous other items that I could use to get myself out of that awful place.
That's what AA has done for me.
God Bless you,
Kari