|
|
Post by gwampa69 on Nov 30, 2015 15:31:37 GMT -5
Hey Brett, Another great post. You brought up the topic of Surrender. I'm glad you spoke about that as it is a little confusing to me and you clarified the meaning of Surrender for me. I agree with what you said that its realizing that the alcohol is now in charge. That is how I feel atm. Just a shell of a person with a roof over their head. I am using alcohol to douse the pain but in reality it is just destroying me and will end up killing me. I need to find a different way to live, seems scary but I know I can do it. I've been there before and felt like a new person. Like I said, I'll just take it a day at a time and not give in to cravings. Hey Kim,
Think about what you just said here. "I need to find a different way to live, seems scary but I know I can do it". That's so true. And it even makes a bit of sense even though on the surface its like, wait a second, how could living a better life be scarier than living a drunken life that destroys us a little more each day? Maybe its an example of the old saying "the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know". Sometimes that is true but in this case, its definitely not. Finding healthy ways to deal with problems, stress, trouble etc. isn't really scary its just foreign to an alcoholic. It was foreign to me. Still is sometimes. But I have experienced something that I never really thought existed. Problems and life in general are much easier to deal with when I am clear headed, and not feeling like dog crap all the time.
I mentioned something a while back about living in a comfortable mire. Booze makes us feel better about feeling bad. Its weird, I know. The unknown can be scary because its well, unknown to us. But I promise you the same thing that Mark promised. Nobody ever regretted getting sober.
|
|
|
|
Post by gwampa69 on Nov 30, 2015 16:10:29 GMT -5
Beth You're Welcome.  Brett |
|
|
|
Post by bethanne711 on Nov 30, 2015 16:33:32 GMT -5
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2015 3:31:10 GMT -5
Hey Brett, Another great post. You brought up the topic of Surrender. I'm glad you spoke about that as it is a little confusing to me and you clarified the meaning of Surrender for me. I agree with what you said that its realizing that the alcohol is now in charge. That is how I feel atm. Just a shell of a person with a roof over their head. I am using alcohol to douse the pain but in reality it is just destroying me and will end up killing me. I need to find a different way to live, seems scary but I know I can do it. I've been there before and felt like a new person. Like I said, I'll just take it a day at a time and not give in to cravings. Hey Kim,
Think about what you just said here. "I need to find a different way to live, seems scary but I know I can do it". That's so true. And it even makes a bit of sense even though on the surface its like, wait a second, how could living a better life be scarier than living a drunken life that destroys us a little more each day? Maybe its an example of the old saying "the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know". Sometimes that is true but in this case, its definitely not. Finding healthy ways to deal with problems, stress, trouble etc. isn't really scary its just foreign to an alcoholic. It was foreign to me. Still is sometimes. But I have experienced something that I never really thought existed. Problems and life in general are much easier to deal with when I am clear headed, and not feeling like dog crap all the time.
I mentioned something a while back about living in a comfortable mire. Booze makes us feel better about feeling bad. Its weird, I know. The unknown can be scary because its well, unknown to us. But I promise you the same thing that Mark promised. Nobody ever regretted getting sober.
Hey Brett, I somehow missed your post. Too busy reading my own thread lol. I like what you said that it couldn't be scarier than a drunken life, especially trying to remember what happened the night before. Now that's scary. Maybe for me its just fear of the unknown. Dealing with problems by drinking is normal for me so I've got a lot of work to do to figure out how to deal with situations I am in. I'm still taking it a day at a time. |
|
|
|
Post by gwampa69 on Dec 5, 2015 10:05:21 GMT -5
Is it a negative thing to have low or even no expectations? Low or even no expectations about the future, the people I interact with, about the things I see happening around me? Is it a sign of weakness, carelessness or general malaise? On the surface it may seem so. It may sound like a defeatist and bleak way to move through life. But it’s really not.
When I was drinking, I had many expectations about most everything. My expectations at that time led me to live in any other reality other than the present. When I look at this now, I realize that it was a defense mechanism. And it allowed me to drink with purpose. My particular brand of “in the moment” living was too screwed up to be a part of. So I placed all sorts of expectations on everyone and everything around me. When my largely unrealistic, unattainable expectations weren’t met, it somehow justified my general negative view of everyone and all the messed up things going on within my circle of life and in the overall world as I saw it. This allowed me to justify my drinking. It led me into that comfortable mire that was only uncomfortable when I wasn’t drunk. So I drank and drank and wallowed and wallowed. This went on for most of my life. Eventually and thankfully, my mire became a nightmare, drunk or not.
I think having expectations is mostly true for most everyone walking around on this planet. We expect to get up every morning, we expect to move through our day doing our thing, viewing the world around us as it relates to ourselves. It’s a sociological truth that humans view the world as it affects them individually. We place expectations on other people and on other situations. Of course this is silly. We have absolutely zero control over either. We may think we have control but we do not. We may seek to influence other people. Hopefully for the better. But influencing and interacting should not result in expectations. Hope maybe, but not expectations. What do we do when our expectations aren't met? I guess that's the real problem.
Take parenting as an example. We may want to raise our children to be successful well-adjusted human beings. We do this as parents. But in the end, all of the raising and tutoring does not culminate in control. At least it shouldn’t. In the case of parenting, the whole point is for them to become self-reliant, self-aware, dependable and independent. We have expectations that may or may not result in what we want. In the end, it’s a crap shoot.
Does this all mean we should give up striving for the things we want? Nope, absolutely not. But what I think it means, is simply accepting that we have no control over anything. Well maybe one thing. We have control over ourselves and the choices we make. My expectations must be pointed inwards. That is where I can do the most good. Because expecting myself to be first sober, allows me to place all kinds of realistic expectations on the rest of who I am. And that is where expectations should end.
|
|
|
|
Post by achilles1957 on Dec 5, 2015 16:46:21 GMT -5
So true Brett. Particularly with my children, expecting them to be happy, willing them, wanting it so badly, trying to do anything to aid that happiness and then, life throws them a spanner...the realisation that I need to "stay out of the results" looms once again. I can never stay out of the results with them but I can ensure that I don't take it on, so to speak. It's important that I don't see it as my fault, my responsibility to fix and alter their world.
It's easy for me to pretend that I don't have expectations .. I have everything I want and need on a superficial level .. however I do expect those around me to be happy and can't help willing it to be that way. That's selfish. I have so much work to do on this .. I've realised that being this way could lead my children to feelings of "not good enough". My dad had the same affect on me. I've never put expectations/pressure on my children with regard to success and achievements etc and thought that was good (not like my dad) but I now realise that it's the same as expecting them to be successful emotionally/spiritually, happy. They can't and won't be happy all the time and that's just the way it is. I really need to grow up me thinks !!
Thanks for the thought provoking post Brett, so appreciated.
:-)
Jenn
|
|
|
|
Post by gwampa69 on Dec 5, 2015 20:27:34 GMT -5
Hey Jenn
How is your son doing these days? Is he on the mend?
|
|
|
|
Post by achilles1957 on Dec 5, 2015 21:28:32 GMT -5
I've just dropped him off at the airport Brett and I'm not doing too well.  |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2015 23:21:50 GMT -5
Is it a negative thing to have low or even no expectations? Low or even no expectations about the future, the people I interact with, about the things I see happening around me? Is it a sign of weakness, carelessness or general malaise? On the surface it may seem so. It may sound like a defeatist and bleak way to move through life. But it’s really not.
When I was drinking, I had many expectations about most everything. My expectations at that time led me to live in any other reality other than the present. When I look at this now, I realize that it was a defense mechanism. And it allowed me to drink with purpose. My particular brand of “in the moment” living was too screwed up to be a part of. So I placed all sorts of expectations on everyone and everything around me. When my largely unrealistic, unattainable expectations weren’t met, it somehow justified my general negative view of everyone and all the messed up things going on within my circle of life and in the overall world as I saw it. This allowed me to justify my drinking. It led me into that comfortable mire that was only uncomfortable when I wasn’t drunk. So I drank and drank and wallowed and wallowed. This went on for most of my life. Eventually and thankfully, my mire became a nightmare, drunk or not.
I think having expectations is mostly true for most everyone walking around on this planet. We expect to get up every morning, we expect to move through our day doing our thing, viewing the world around us as it relates to ourselves. It’s a sociological truth that humans view the world as it affects them individually. We place expectations on other people and on other situations. Of course this is silly. We have absolutely zero control over either. We may think we have control but we do not. We may seek to influence other people. Hopefully for the better. But influencing and interacting should not result in expectations. Hope maybe, but not expectations. What do we do when our expectations aren't met? I guess that's the real problem.
Take parenting as an example. We may want to raise our children to be successful well-adjusted human beings. We do this as parents. But in the end, all of the raising and tutoring does not culminate in control. At least it shouldn’t. In the case of parenting, the whole point is for them to become self-reliant, self-aware, dependable and independent. We have expectations that may or may not result in what we want. In the end, it’s a crap shoot.
Does this all mean we should give up striving for the things we want? Nope, absolutely not. But what I think it means, is simply accepting that we have no control over anything. Well maybe one thing. We have control over ourselves and the choices we make. My expectations must be pointed inwards. That is where I can do the most good. Because expecting myself to be first sober, allows me to place all kinds of realistic expectations on the rest of who I am. And that is where expectations should end.
Great post Brett. Your wisdom and insight is way beyond mine as normal. I think I too have high expectations on life. A friend told me when I was in my teens, that she never goes out expecting to have a good time and if she does, its a bonus. I think I need to relinquish control and face the fact that the only person I can control is myself. I am a bit of a control freak and maybe that is why I keep relapsing. I feel like I would love to control most things...the economy, security, terrorists, criminals but in reality I have no control except to protect myself as well as I can. I like what you said that you drank and just wallowed. I suppose some people would describe that as depression but I believe its just the escape tool that drinking offers. Hope to hear more insight from you. |
|
halo
New Member
Posts: 1 
|
Post by halo on Dec 6, 2015 15:45:50 GMT -5
Yet another inspiring story as beautifully told by Brett! I could be your neighbor. I’ve just recently been getting around to catching up on the home maintenance that was inevitably deferred during my drinking days. Roof, exterior paint, and rain gutters are done. This week, I’m tackling my deck. I built my deck in 2001 near the beginning of my alcoholic adventures. In the early years of my drinking, when alcohol still worked, it somehow seemed to inspire a spate of creativity and industry. Perhaps because my inhibitions were eroded, I found myself taking on projects that would previously have daunted me. One of these was to build a redwood deck on top of, and extending beyond, a concrete patio at the back of my house. The deck came out fine, but I never touched it again. Didn’t clean it or re-stain it, and, most importantly, didn’t ever clean out the gap underneath the boards where they ran on top of the existing concrete patio. So here we are in 2015 and I finally got around to pulling up deck boards so I could clean out the gap underneath them. I found that during the years of my neglect, dirt and leaves had accumulated to the point that the gap was completely filled, and the boards were starting to rot from underneath. I’ll have to replace most of them. This struck me as an apt analogy to my alcoholism. As with the deck, everything looked pretty much OK on the surface of my life — a little wear and tear, but nothing immediately obvious — but underneath, it was rotting away along with my deck boards. Just as it was only when I pulled up the boards that I saw where the rotten areas were and could begin rehabilitating the deck, so too it has been only since I began pulling up the deck boards of my psyche and cleaning out the accumulated junk beneath that I’ve made progress at recovering from alcoholism and rehabilitating my soul. I have a feeling that replacing actual, physical deck boards will be much the easier (and shorter) project! |
|
|
|
Post by gwampa69 on Dec 6, 2015 15:58:11 GMT -5
haloHey Halo Thanks for reposting that post by Mark. It was an awesome one and the symbolism was colorful and spot on. Where is Mark anyway...
|
|
|
|
Post by angelina1512 on Dec 16, 2015 4:46:21 GMT -5
Hey. Sparrow,
Just thought I would pop in and tell you how wonderful you are. You do a great job posting all the time, so I thought I would thank you.
How are things going for you? Work?
Need a story:-)
Tutu
|
|
|
|
Post by gwampa69 on Dec 24, 2015 16:24:34 GMT -5
I'm not a religious guy. I don't even think I would qualify as spiritual. Holidays like Christmas have always meant something else to me entirely. Holidays like Christmas meant family and trying to see to it that my family had a picture perfect "American Version" of Christmas. Lots of presents, lots of food, lots of everything. Holidays like Christmas meant a lot of running around (usually at the last minute) trying to think of things that I could buy that would make the people I loved happy. For many years I missed the real point but still I kept trying year after year, to make this one better than the last one.
For many years, by the time the family and extended family was gathered in the living room on Christmas Eve, I was pretty well blotto. For many years my place to sit during that gathering was halfway up the living room stairs. I would take that vantage point under the guise that it provided the best view for capturing photographs of everyone in the room as gifts were opened. For that reason, it was a great spot. But the real reason was so that I wasn't down amongst everyone, sitting close, where they would smell the whiskey odor washing off of me. So I would sit on the steps, near the kids stockings hanging from the banister. I would sit and watch everyone enjoying each others company, enjoying the gifts I had bought. Half the time they would be opening something from me, I was just as surprised at what they uncovered as they were, because I had already forgotten what I had bought. I was sitting in the same room with them all, but I was a million miles away. They were inside, I was outside.
I wanted to feel part of that love but I could not. I could not because I was drunk and drunk doesn't work in a family situation like that. Two years ago, the same story was playing out again. At one point I came down the stairs and walked out the front door to get some air. I walked out into the snow. It was a quiet night, the sky was clear, the stars were bright, and I could barely stand up. I remember turning around and looking in the front window of my house like that scene from A Christmas Carol. What I saw is part of what got me sober. From my perch on the stairs to the biting cold outside the house, my perspective had changed just like that. Was it a Christmas miracle? Was it the fresh December air or the fact that I realized I had no shoes on? Maybe it was all of those things. I have no way of knowing. I do however know this. Something clicked in my head a little bit that night. At that moment I knew it would be my last drunk Christmas.
This Christmas I hope that if you are struggling, you will remember that nothing changes if nothing changes. Our families need us and want us to be part of their love. They want us to be happy, and they want us to join them inside.
|
|
|
|
Post by jeyu0422 on Dec 24, 2015 20:59:44 GMT -5
Brett,
Religious, maybe not. Spiritual, absolutely yes.
Beautiful post, Brett.
Merry Christmas to everyone!
Mark/Jeyu
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2015 21:23:08 GMT -5
That was a great story Brett. I felt like I was right there with you.
|
|
