Cleaning Up – Makeover From Within

Prison.  Police shoot outs. Bankruptcy. Eating out of dumpsters. Violent assaults. Prostitution. These are some of the things that many alcoholics and addicts endure or participate in as part of the lifestyle of addiction.  No one chooses those paths, per se, but as the illness deepens, so does the reaction to keep the lifestyle intact. …

Searching and Fearless

Inventory. For those who aren’t in 12-step recovery, that word probably ushers in thoughts of Starbucks-fuelled grad students counting sweaters in the back of H&M as one part of their under-paid job requirements. Knit-One Pearl-Two while the supervisor, youngest of the crew, checks off the stock pars and lists any extra items or items that…

Running With Wolves

I guess you can say this is a follow up to my last post about being a lone wolf. Since I wrote that post, I have taken a few actions.  To wit: I finally reached out to my sponsor and had a great discussion.  We caught up on some stuff going on with him, and…

Who Are Your Eskimo Angels?

He reeked of booze.  And BO.  I stood beside a man on the bus the other day.  His swollen and busted up face caught my attention.  He had a hospital band on his wrist.  His dead eyes said it all.  In his hand was a bag full of rattling Olde English malt liquor bottles.  He…

Fallen

  I was running yesterday in a nearby park area and stumbled across a makeshift memorial site.  A young man, who lost his life several years ago, still being kept in memory by still-fresh flowers and keepsakes.  I had to stop and take it in.  I also had to keep in mind that this memorial…

The Bravest and Most Beautiful

I went to my sponsor’s 5-year medallion tonight.  He celebrated five years of continuous sobriety in a packed church hall.  He was surrounded by countless friends and family as people rose, read parts of the preamble and then swooned us all with wonderful adjectives and stories about the man who first helped me when I…

Head Down, Follow Through

Count me in as a duffer. When I was in high school, my friends and I would golf.  Or, to put it another way, we would attempt to golf.  We’d hit the city courses, with our starchy collard shirts and rented clubs and we’d duff around the course.   Sometimes we’d actually get the ball…

Who Do You Think You Are?

One of the greatest struggles I have had in my recovery so far is the question of who am I? Or namely, who am I meant to be?  And that is really what it comes down to.  Who am I meant to be, rather than who do I think I should be?  I lived a life…

My Greatest Enemy

A friend of ours recently made an unexpected announcement – she had finished writing a screenplay.  Now, writing a screenplay for someone who writes screenplays for a living is hardly a shock.  Noble, indeed, but not something that involves going to the party section at Target for. Singing Telegrams need not apply. But our friend…