Feelings…whoa Nelly.

Feelings. As I am writing this, the old song by Morris Albert is playing in my head. When I first started to get my feelings back, this was not the soundtrack I was hearing; it was more like thrash metal one minute, and poignant, heartbreaking the next, with a creepy Friday the 13th piano thing going consistently in the background of both.

To a normal person, this won’t make much sense, but its worth trying to understand, if you are in a relationship on any level with a recovering addict or alcoholic. To someone in recovery, this is a well known little slice of hell. Feelings. Most of us, for years, have been medicating against feelings. Maybe not intentionally; often, we don’t even know that is what we are doing. It just comes naturally- drink when sad. Drink when happy. Pop pills to sleep, to wake up, to perk up, to slow down. Cocaine to socialize. Heroin to deal with life.  The list goes on.

In recovery, we get to learn something that ‘normies’ already know how to handle. Or, handle in ways other than using substances to anesthetize one’s self. The first feelings are often an overwhelming sense of fear about the idea of committing to a sober life. We, as a rule, fear commitment. That is why we say -One Day At A Time. If we were not reminded constantly to stay in the day, our minds race into the future, about the weddings we will have without champagne, or New Years Eve, or barbeques without beer, or any number of future scenarios. We also begin to mourn what we feel like we are losing; so often, we forget the mornings waking up and not knowing where we are, or the wrecked cars, but we polish the past into a high gloss and want to believe that there is something we are letting go of that we will actually miss. More often than not, the thing we will miss is only an idea; this strange idea that by drinking or using, things will be…better. More glamorous. Colors will be brighter. Life will be softer. Or if we are creative, we feel that our art will suffer. Or we believe that we will lose all our friends with whom we drank or used. We feel we will lose our identity.

Our drinking and using careers do define a lot; while we are not what we drink or use, our lives tend to center around what we use, when, with whom, etc. The trick is to be willing to let all of it go, not just the drinking and using, but all the behaviors that center around it.  When I first got sober, I still went to nightclubs with friends to dance and drink Red Bull. It was very unsatisfying, but it took me about a year to realize that; I kept thinking, as I did with drinking, that eventually I would get what I want from the situation. The truth is that I will never get what I want from a night club, as I will never get what I want from a drink. I want to be serene and childlike and full of wonder and awe, and that simply isn’t what is being offered at a night club. Happy hour is not offering happiness! Then I tried my hand at dating like crazy; that also did not yield any results. I frustrated myself, and it was a great lesson. All of my behaviors upon getting sober centered on NOT forging connections, and i had no idea.

All of my feelings resulted in an immediate action, with no pause in between to deliberate. Like a robot. I’m angry- I blame someone, and yell. I’m sad, I blame someone, and probably turn it into anger and then yell at someone. You hurt me, I hurt you back- whether it was a real or imagined offense didn’t matter. I’m afraid you’ll hurt me, so I will do my best to avoid getting close to you. I’ll drink so much Red Bull I can’t even speak, I’ll date you but not commit. I’ll facebook with you but never meet you. Programmed, like a robot, to react the same every time.

When I started to really connect to others, then the feelings really started to name themselves. Fears. Fears of rejection, abandonment, inadequacy. The look on your face was my higher power. I had no idea, since I was so busy avoiding you my whole life. I got to really investigate what made me tick, get real and vulnerable, and bring that to the table, to release myself from the bondage of judgement- of both you and me. I started to learn that showing up in the spirit of service to any and everyone put me in the right state of mind, allowed me to be present, not waiting for the other shoe to drop, not taking everything personally. I’m not here for me. I’m here for you.

And then a new feeling came about. Serenity. Wow. It sort of scared me at first. What do with it? And then it hit me- just be. Just be this. Its so worth trudging through the b*llshit. This unshakable feeling of calm, a deep knowing that I am divinely guided and protected. A real and vital connection with others. A strong impulse to help. Waking with a profound joy most every morning, eager to see how the day will unfold, as each day is always an adventure. There is always something new to learn, to overcome. There is always a new miracle to take my breath away. There is always someone new to love, to be nice to, to help. There is always the opportunity for a new revelation and chance to commune with the divinely animated universe. All this grace was all lying dormant underneath all the detritus that I had piled on top of it, like a lovely silk dress under a load of mismatched dirty socks. I like to think this is the real me, the one I was always afraid of being, but who really knows? I feel more organic and authentic than I ever have, but I only have 4 years sober. What will it be like in another 4 years? Thats the thing- I can’t wait to find out. No longer warped by that sense of dread, driven to distract myself from the truth, but the opposite- a complete surrender to it. And the truth, it really does set you free.