Echos of War Stories

[skyhook]

As I move deeper into my recovery, the traces of the life I left behind remain as echos in my memory...sometimes like viewing someones elses photo album. After many years being clean, the memory requires a little priming to focus on a time gone by, but it is a worthy exercise for many reasons.

With God, healthy decisions and time, it is easy to forget who I was, as I embrace who I am becoming. But I also realize that "who I was" is forever linked to who I am becoming, so I must never forget. These seperate identities, can never fully be appreciated without the reflection of the other.

Some of the darkest times and calamaties of the past, were actually the instruments of peril, which revealed the last doors leading to possibilty for change and recovery.

Life will change without considering me or my feelings. Ready or not, it will happen, so I might as well contribute to the process in a sustainable way and participate in change for a greater good. Something bigger than me.
This has been my personal mission statement, like a compass that helps me regroup when I get lost, feel defeated or am just plain pissed. A life compass is a tool I keep close by, not because I might need it, but because I will need it. My compass works for me and I can trust it when my own ability to discern or understand is weak or in the basement. Some of my personal trials are born from my own doing, while others come out of nowhere, like an arsonist tossing wood matches into a dry field. My compass does not care what the source of my calamity is; oblivious to how I got lost, it faithfully seeks only to show me the way back to camp.

Over time, I will post some here and invite others, so lead, to also post here snippets of their war story "photo album" as well. Not to glorify the actions of being sick, but to offer transparency to those reading, who may be facing themselves today and wondering how can their life ever change.

Maybe by hearing, they too can begin believing.

Peace.

[skyhook]

I love the 12 steps.

As someone who needs logic, boundaries and clear guidelines, the 12 steps were a lifeline for me...like a deepsea diver ascending , methodically following his air hose back to the boat.

I'm the guy who reads all the directions (twice) before trying to assemble something, and sometimes the only guarantee of the assembly result, is that the instruction writer sucked. Laying in the packing box is a useless, mismash of widgits, pieces, parts and color coded connectors waiting for the starting gun of "some assembly required". No matter how wonderful the final product appears on the box, if the instructions suck the path to completion will suffer as well.

So it was with my recovery. The goal of serenity, that final destination of peace and sanity was clearly my intent. Of course, my assembly was detoured, because once I started , it became abundantly clear that I first had to de-assemble the utter crap I had created,invented and installed in my life. Coping mechanisms, thought patterns, self defense armor, paranoid gate keeping, self medicating,...

The big shock to my senses, was not understanding I needed to quit, it was discovering how nakad I was without my "belts and suspenders" to hold my alledged life in place. Quitting using meant awaking to the reality of the jungle in front of me, with my machette being the 12 steps. Start hacking.

I would be lying if i said it all went well. There were early seasons of trying to work the steps, attend meetings, HP roulette...all valiant yet humbling seasons where it was one step foreward and two steps back. Re-reading the instructions, only seemed to magnify my failings and convince me that the distance required to travel was outside my reach.

Now looking back, with many years of clean time, I can see that the key for me, through trial and error, was finding the HP who actually met me at the point of my need. Trying to navigate the steps without a HP is like a top chef with the scrumptuous recipe, all the ingrediants...and not an oven in sight!

I have come to understand that while the steps are time tested, it was the submission of my life to my HP, that finally made it click. I find that the HP question is an important one, and for me, one size does not fit all. Since my Hp belief system was all over the board, there was no good soil for the steps to take root in.

To this day, I encourgage people who struggle with the directions of recovery, to scrutinize who has authored the guide in which you read. You see, the steps alone, don't cut the mustard and for me, either did taking the HP decision lightly.

Given that the steps are very straight forward, it becomes clear to me that the Hp aspect is truly the variable or wild card. Like kenny rodgers said, "you gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away...and know when to run !"

Peace

[skyhook]

In the big picture I was blessed with parents who loved me best they could, given the cards they were dealt. I was the oldest and when I was two, my sister was born with severe kidney disorder, which would require mom and dad to work by day, and travel to her acute care hospital 90 miles away...most afternoons and nights, for the next 7 years or so.

I remember mom telling me at a very young age, that "i was the one she never had to worry about". Bascially I was raised during my pre-teen years , by a collective tag team of teachers, babysitters, relatives, neighbors.

My mom's words were her way of convincing herself of the realities of the challenges they faced and the necessary independence I would need , in order to survive. At the time, I knew no difference, so not connecting with my family because of there forced absence was the result. I learned very early that my world was "out there somewhere", not at home. I knew not what a real home was. My folks and siblings were tending to serious matters, and I learned to fit in wherever I was placed during this time.

I know this story of family disconnect is far tamer than challenges and wounds others have faced as children. I understand this. Personally, I don't think anyone really gets out of childhood without getting knicked up a bit, some far more worse than others. The degree of vulnerability of "human puppies" is extreme and i know that many of my tendencies, insecurities and bents were formed at this young and impressionable age.

Pre-programming was set, ready for liftoff for the upcoming teen.

Peace.