demut - german for "humility"
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Join Date: Nov 2010
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demut - german for "humility"
As an avid dreamer most nights, it is not uncommon for me to wake in the morning following particularly vexatious dreaming and feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I’m still alive and realizing whew, that was “only” a dream. Not so much the last two mornings. Rather, this morning I awoke not really in tuned to the specifics of last night’s dream, just an overwhelming anguish that I’m still alive. Self-pity or despondency and mortification? Large doses of both.
Backing up two nights though; when it was all over I ended up in a “holding cell” with four other women. Ten, or so, years ago I may have been led to believe that our only similarities were the orange attire we each wore, but I know too much about my disease to allow myself to believe that. So when I sat quietly listening to each woman’s agitated desire to tell how each one landed there, I had to acknowledge that I’m on equal turf with them. The Native American girl, Miranda (names changed) was the “resource person” for everyone. She had the background experience and knowledge of the system to speculate the cost of our respective bonds and whether we would be released that night. This, of course, after we divulged our “story”. My tolerance level with being held in a 15 x 15 square foot cell for hours with these women was tested beyond my comprehension. Crystal, the middle age heroin addict was thankfully not in need of her drug, but her Puerto Rican accent and pronounced affects of her drug led to her propensity to share how she has spent her deceased husband’s insurance money in a six month period. This was neither glamorous nor interesting to me. The surreal experience of all of this was when the little African American girl came in. Miranda asks, “What are you in for”? And this little girl says, “probable cause prostitution.” Miranda asks, “meth?” And the little girl says, “hell no, crack cocaine.” Then the other two women begin lecturing her on condoms, the little black girl, says, “I’ll f’ing do what I want, and hell yes I use them, but that ain’t none of your business; you don’t know me and I don’t know you. I’ll do whatever I have to for my crack-cocaine – ain’t nobody gonna tell me what to do. So git out of face MF’s.” All I kept thinking was, dear God, I wish I could take her home with me. As a person who offers respect to those with whom I encounter daily, I also command reciprocation. One who is in jail being booked and finger printed may not “command” anything, rather, the dehumanization of the entire process is somewhat of a paradox; both appropriate and denigrating at the very same time.
“What were you thinking?” “You know better!” “You’re too smart for this/” “I’ve been telling you for months to get some help.” “How could you do this?”
If I was able to offer a sound answer to those questions, I believe I could open a recovery center with renowned information and possibly a cure for this terminal illness. The answer, though, is a three word answer that only those afflicted with or have a sound comprehension of alcoholism can comprehend. The answer is, because “I’m an alcoholic.”
But with one failed marriage, three treatment programs, first DWI and some actual recovery (five plus years), behind me, the concept that I was out there again is, at the time of this writing, unfathomable for my current husband and family. With an inability to put a sentence together both yesterday and today because of my emotional state (continuous crying) the only words I have been capable of putting together (verbally) are those of the Apostle Paul - "I do not understand my own behavior; I do not act as I mean to, but I do the things that I hate. Though the will to do what is good is in me, the power to do it is not; the good thing I want to do, I never do; the evil thing which I do not want - this is what I do."
Alcoholism, while it may lie dormant, it will never leave my soul, my mind. The insidiousness of this disease led to my relapse; binge drinking; over the course of this past year. That all came to a screaching (literally) halt this past Wednesday rainy dark evening.
How am I going to tell my children, having dissed their periodic inquisitions over the course of this past year. Prior to which they had just begun an ounce of belief in me.
Have to go now; my home monitor will soon sound. I am comforted having found this site and grateful to re-enter the program of alcoholics anonymous.
Asking for prayer - thank you for listening
Backing up two nights though; when it was all over I ended up in a “holding cell” with four other women. Ten, or so, years ago I may have been led to believe that our only similarities were the orange attire we each wore, but I know too much about my disease to allow myself to believe that. So when I sat quietly listening to each woman’s agitated desire to tell how each one landed there, I had to acknowledge that I’m on equal turf with them. The Native American girl, Miranda (names changed) was the “resource person” for everyone. She had the background experience and knowledge of the system to speculate the cost of our respective bonds and whether we would be released that night. This, of course, after we divulged our “story”. My tolerance level with being held in a 15 x 15 square foot cell for hours with these women was tested beyond my comprehension. Crystal, the middle age heroin addict was thankfully not in need of her drug, but her Puerto Rican accent and pronounced affects of her drug led to her propensity to share how she has spent her deceased husband’s insurance money in a six month period. This was neither glamorous nor interesting to me. The surreal experience of all of this was when the little African American girl came in. Miranda asks, “What are you in for”? And this little girl says, “probable cause prostitution.” Miranda asks, “meth?” And the little girl says, “hell no, crack cocaine.” Then the other two women begin lecturing her on condoms, the little black girl, says, “I’ll f’ing do what I want, and hell yes I use them, but that ain’t none of your business; you don’t know me and I don’t know you. I’ll do whatever I have to for my crack-cocaine – ain’t nobody gonna tell me what to do. So git out of face MF’s.” All I kept thinking was, dear God, I wish I could take her home with me. As a person who offers respect to those with whom I encounter daily, I also command reciprocation. One who is in jail being booked and finger printed may not “command” anything, rather, the dehumanization of the entire process is somewhat of a paradox; both appropriate and denigrating at the very same time.
“What were you thinking?” “You know better!” “You’re too smart for this/” “I’ve been telling you for months to get some help.” “How could you do this?”
If I was able to offer a sound answer to those questions, I believe I could open a recovery center with renowned information and possibly a cure for this terminal illness. The answer, though, is a three word answer that only those afflicted with or have a sound comprehension of alcoholism can comprehend. The answer is, because “I’m an alcoholic.”
But with one failed marriage, three treatment programs, first DWI and some actual recovery (five plus years), behind me, the concept that I was out there again is, at the time of this writing, unfathomable for my current husband and family. With an inability to put a sentence together both yesterday and today because of my emotional state (continuous crying) the only words I have been capable of putting together (verbally) are those of the Apostle Paul - "I do not understand my own behavior; I do not act as I mean to, but I do the things that I hate. Though the will to do what is good is in me, the power to do it is not; the good thing I want to do, I never do; the evil thing which I do not want - this is what I do."
Alcoholism, while it may lie dormant, it will never leave my soul, my mind. The insidiousness of this disease led to my relapse; binge drinking; over the course of this past year. That all came to a screaching (literally) halt this past Wednesday rainy dark evening.
How am I going to tell my children, having dissed their periodic inquisitions over the course of this past year. Prior to which they had just begun an ounce of belief in me.
Have to go now; my home monitor will soon sound. I am comforted having found this site and grateful to re-enter the program of alcoholics anonymous.
Asking for prayer - thank you for listening
Member
Join Date: Sep 2010
Location: Rangely Colorado
Posts: 80
Hi Demut -
Nice choice of name! I know the feelings you've had recently with the lock-up, etc. I found myself in the very same situation on a number of occasions, always thinking, "never again", and did pretty good each time for a little while afterwards ... until the next time.
So ... after 63 days in jail in one state, and 35 days in jail in another state, and 15 months in prison, I finally arrived at one real truth: yes, I am an alcoholic, and yes, I actually DO belong in here with these crazy women.
Now, I'm back in the "real world" for awhile, and I've realized something else: I am a failure ONLY if I quit trying. I have about 30 months now, and honestly all that jail and prison stuff was exactly what my HP needed me to do, in order to learn.
Hold your head up, and face each day and each person knowing that you are truly blessed and better for the experience.
Nice choice of name! I know the feelings you've had recently with the lock-up, etc. I found myself in the very same situation on a number of occasions, always thinking, "never again", and did pretty good each time for a little while afterwards ... until the next time.
So ... after 63 days in jail in one state, and 35 days in jail in another state, and 15 months in prison, I finally arrived at one real truth: yes, I am an alcoholic, and yes, I actually DO belong in here with these crazy women.
Now, I'm back in the "real world" for awhile, and I've realized something else: I am a failure ONLY if I quit trying. I have about 30 months now, and honestly all that jail and prison stuff was exactly what my HP needed me to do, in order to learn.
Hold your head up, and face each day and each person knowing that you are truly blessed and better for the experience.
Administrator
Join Date: Apr 2007
Location: Australia
Posts: 209,105
Welcome to SR Demut.
Thanks for sharing a little bit of your story.
I remember how crushing it is to realise you've done it again and all that self respect you've been rebuilding in yourself and all the trust you've just started to build up again in others is gone again
I know you'll find a lot of support and understanding here - I hope this time can be your time
Hope to see you around.
D
Thanks for sharing a little bit of your story.
I remember how crushing it is to realise you've done it again and all that self respect you've been rebuilding in yourself and all the trust you've just started to build up again in others is gone again
I know you'll find a lot of support and understanding here - I hope this time can be your time
Hope to see you around.
D
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Join Date: Nov 2010
Posts: 73
Day three
Well, I guess I'm still alive, here, on this planet. Though I actually put a few hours of sleep together last night and I'm feeling the power of the prayer requests I have shot out to some of my friends and family. Prayer. Wow, never underestimate the power. A relapse is to teach us something about our disease (yes, that is my reference for my condition). There have been relapses where I genuinely have been unable to figure out where I failed. This time its screaming at me and the really really painful thing is that I subconscientiously was aware of it this entie past year, cunning, baffling, powerful, insidious.........ya think!!!! I did not have a program of recovery to rely upon. What we have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition. I basically had no defense against the first drink. And I mean NOTHING. I had permitted any possible defese or chance of intervention to maintain a far distance. I spent far too many hours in my own head, and on a good sober day with endless support that is a formidable place to be -a place I have no business hanging out in alone. I meet with my attorney tomorrow; the questions I am bringing to our meeting have filled the first page of a legal pad. I can't believe I have stop crying. Two days ago just this cheesy smiley guy screaming "help" would have pushed me off the edge. Ok, I'm feeing better today; but there is still the wreckage lying everywhere from this past year - so I can be certain my family is not sharing my lessened anxiety and pain. And this is really all I can seem to focus on. I know. I know. Damage is done. Pick yourself up and do what you know, have been knowing, is the next right thing. Words. So trite sometimes, so flippant and effortless to put out there. Now enter the meaning of those words into your heart, mind and soul and it simply ain't that yielding.
In my state we had a politician who has two DWI's on his record and was running for office. I went back last night to read some of the articles and the commentaries that followed from the public. What an outcry of disdain, zero tolerance, ignorance, and overall stigma in regard to alcoholism. Not one return comment spoke truth about alcoholism and how quite possibly this should not reflect the man he professes to be and to consider, based on true historical facts about him, that he may be the man for the job. The only thing these people could see is his alcoholism. Nothing, NOTHING, outside of this was considered. I know I'll be seen that way when I re-enter the job market. My degrees, my capabilities, the potential for what I could contribute to the organization - all pushed aside and all that will seen is my horrific choices made as a result of this disease. I am not minimizing my crime. I am only taken aback slightly by how little we have progressed in comrehending this disease, unless you are its recipient. I have sat with my husband on four or five different ocassions over the last three days trying to explain to him just "how" I could have done this. Each time he looks at me, no, he looks through me as though I am speaking a foreign language. He has refused alanon thus far. Time.
In my state we had a politician who has two DWI's on his record and was running for office. I went back last night to read some of the articles and the commentaries that followed from the public. What an outcry of disdain, zero tolerance, ignorance, and overall stigma in regard to alcoholism. Not one return comment spoke truth about alcoholism and how quite possibly this should not reflect the man he professes to be and to consider, based on true historical facts about him, that he may be the man for the job. The only thing these people could see is his alcoholism. Nothing, NOTHING, outside of this was considered. I know I'll be seen that way when I re-enter the job market. My degrees, my capabilities, the potential for what I could contribute to the organization - all pushed aside and all that will seen is my horrific choices made as a result of this disease. I am not minimizing my crime. I am only taken aback slightly by how little we have progressed in comrehending this disease, unless you are its recipient. I have sat with my husband on four or five different ocassions over the last three days trying to explain to him just "how" I could have done this. Each time he looks at me, no, he looks through me as though I am speaking a foreign language. He has refused alanon thus far. Time.
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Join Date: Nov 2010
Posts: 73
PO officers, jail, attorneys, ETOH monitors
YUCK !!!!!!!!!!!!!! These are part of my vocabulary, hourly even. While I'm really at peace with the prayers I have requested, and I really feel great sober, it only takes seconds to land in my head again and entertain all those feelings of self-pity, zero confidence, no self-worth - yuck again!! So, I'm here reading, I began a blog so I can write, my dusty books are all off the bookshelf so I'm immersed in books and I'm conversing with persons affiliated with AA ~ this is all good.
Now, though, I must drive in the fog and snow, to meet with my attorney. Another day of sobriety. This is good right. ya, right.....
Now, though, I must drive in the fog and snow, to meet with my attorney. Another day of sobriety. This is good right. ya, right.....
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Join Date: Aug 2010
Posts: 59
Demut, I’m glad you’ve been updating this post. I like your prose…your writing style is engaging. I don’t know what you did before, but when you’re ready to re-enter the job market, maybe writing is in order. 
Sending more prayers your way…
Sending more prayers your way…
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Join Date: Nov 2010
Posts: 73
Chloe ~ writing, for me, has held a sacred place on the pages of my journals and I have not ventured too far from there, but I do thank you for your compliment - ha, goes a long way for me at this particular time. Incidentally, I sent you a private message with my blog address. I finally took the plunge and we'll see how it goes. Hope to see you over there.
Ok, attorneys ~ THAT meeting yesterday was both comforting and encouraging. I like this man, anticipated that I would from his web page. But when I pulled up to his unpretentious office building and he greeted me at the door wearing a flannel shirt and corduroys, I knew I was in the right place. There is much to be said about a proffessional who compromises with overhead in order to charge the client a respectable fee. Ok, all of that said, he feels that we should be able to settle the case on the first court appearance. Worst possible case scenario ~ one month in that facility wearing orange scrubs and being surrounded by stainless steel. I'm in today, though, and certainly accept wherever my fate lies. Today I'm going to make calls to change the time of when this alcohol monitor system thing sounds, which is 8:30, so that I can attend evening meetings. Then I'm going to enlist in a relapse program. Another day.
Ok, attorneys ~ THAT meeting yesterday was both comforting and encouraging. I like this man, anticipated that I would from his web page. But when I pulled up to his unpretentious office building and he greeted me at the door wearing a flannel shirt and corduroys, I knew I was in the right place. There is much to be said about a proffessional who compromises with overhead in order to charge the client a respectable fee. Ok, all of that said, he feels that we should be able to settle the case on the first court appearance. Worst possible case scenario ~ one month in that facility wearing orange scrubs and being surrounded by stainless steel. I'm in today, though, and certainly accept wherever my fate lies. Today I'm going to make calls to change the time of when this alcohol monitor system thing sounds, which is 8:30, so that I can attend evening meetings. Then I'm going to enlist in a relapse program. Another day.
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Join Date: Nov 2010
Posts: 73
slip, fall, WHATEVER
Call it whatever you want. For me, I've never been too caught up in semantics ~ is what it is, just use the word that conveys the meaning. Unless, of course, its to to minimize the reality of relapse ~ which is that I "chose" to drink again. So, I get that, and have no need today in seeking less offensive words to describe myaffliction. And the truth of the matter is that if I were faithful in meeting attendance, there's a fair chance that I would be the sober chic sitting in the chair listening to the story of a fellow alcohoic who went out and proved to the rest of us that WE'RE INCAPABLE OF CONSUMING ALCHOLIC BEVERAGES and that should we chose to do so, we'll spiral downward more rapidly and should the good Lord choose to keep us alive, we'll surface with boatloads of new consequences, far more painful and destructive than the last time. So, in I go, humility tatts boldly marked across my forehead and over my heart. The upside, my pathetic story may very well keep a fellow addict sober today.
So I spent some time last night reviewing the causes of my relapse (one week ago today) They're largely listed under the category of failure to attend meetings, have an interactive sponsor and frankly, a burning urge to "escape"
But, get this ~ refer now to the BB and while there are those cautionary warning statements instructing us as to what we "must" do for any chance of sobriety, the items I listed as things we "don't" do, and so will invariably relapse, are not in the BB. Rather, the BB tells me that if I fail to grow spiritually, harm another, be remiss in working with new alcoholics, remiss in making amends and the biggie ~ RESENTMENTS ~ only to name a few, that without these components I will surely drink. For me, I summarize these few causes into "lack of spirituality" Failure to grow spiritually. At the end of the day, isn't it really the state of our mental fitness that really needs to be examined? I see it that way anyhow.
Full circle then ~ here's where I'm at. This is huge.
I have done three fifth steps; each devulging more "stuff"
To this very second, however, there's certain "stuff" that I, either consciencelessly or sub-consciencelessly held onto, and therefoe, have been holding on to, for the better part of 15 years. Helloooo out there if you're working this program, alcoholics anonymous, if you're like me and you've fooled yourself (cuz you ain't fooling God) by holding tight to specific of your past, well, need I say more. Sure I perseverd in the program taking inventory, housecleaning etc etc, and I guess I actually "thought" that I had abandoned that false pride, egoism, FEAR. It just isn't so
I did a fair job, however, of shoving that stuff far far way deep inside, boldly proclaiming that it shall never see the light of day, never to be thought of again. The truth, though. I was left with perpetual fear and a level of anxiety that no rx medication could alleviate.
Still have my list of unsolved pieces. But, for what its worth, here's where I am at today. Thank you, I mean that, for allowing me a place to write
1
So I spent some time last night reviewing the causes of my relapse (one week ago today) They're largely listed under the category of failure to attend meetings, have an interactive sponsor and frankly, a burning urge to "escape"
But, get this ~ refer now to the BB and while there are those cautionary warning statements instructing us as to what we "must" do for any chance of sobriety, the items I listed as things we "don't" do, and so will invariably relapse, are not in the BB. Rather, the BB tells me that if I fail to grow spiritually, harm another, be remiss in working with new alcoholics, remiss in making amends and the biggie ~ RESENTMENTS ~ only to name a few, that without these components I will surely drink. For me, I summarize these few causes into "lack of spirituality" Failure to grow spiritually. At the end of the day, isn't it really the state of our mental fitness that really needs to be examined? I see it that way anyhow.
Full circle then ~ here's where I'm at. This is huge.
I have done three fifth steps; each devulging more "stuff"
To this very second, however, there's certain "stuff" that I, either consciencelessly or sub-consciencelessly held onto, and therefoe, have been holding on to, for the better part of 15 years. Helloooo out there if you're working this program, alcoholics anonymous, if you're like me and you've fooled yourself (cuz you ain't fooling God) by holding tight to specific of your past, well, need I say more. Sure I perseverd in the program taking inventory, housecleaning etc etc, and I guess I actually "thought" that I had abandoned that false pride, egoism, FEAR. It just isn't so
I did a fair job, however, of shoving that stuff far far way deep inside, boldly proclaiming that it shall never see the light of day, never to be thought of again. The truth, though. I was left with perpetual fear and a level of anxiety that no rx medication could alleviate.
Still have my list of unsolved pieces. But, for what its worth, here's where I am at today. Thank you, I mean that, for allowing me a place to write
1
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Join Date: Nov 2010
Posts: 73
Three men walk into a bar: a Greek, an Italian and an Irishman. Each man
orders a beer. Three flys fly into the tavern and one fly lands in each
man's drink. The Italian man pulls the fly out of his beer, says "tutto 'e bene" (all is well)" and drinks the beer down. The Greek man shows his beer with the fly still inside ...to the barman and asks for another beer. The Irishman grabs the fly out of the beer, takes it by it's wings, while yelling "Cough it up, you wee theivin' SOB!"
Rule 62
I'm done feeling miserable ~ onward ~ upward
orders a beer. Three flys fly into the tavern and one fly lands in each
man's drink. The Italian man pulls the fly out of his beer, says "tutto 'e bene" (all is well)" and drinks the beer down. The Greek man shows his beer with the fly still inside ...to the barman and asks for another beer. The Irishman grabs the fly out of the beer, takes it by it's wings, while yelling "Cough it up, you wee theivin' SOB!"
Rule 62
I'm done feeling miserable ~ onward ~ upward
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