90 Meetings in 90 Days

Since my relapse, I haven’t really gotten a hold of recovery again. Next month, will be the one year anniversary of my arrest and I want to approach the date with “LOOK HOW FAR I’VE COME!!!” instead of like, oh shit I’m still a hot mess. Granted, I am in a much better place in a lot of ways this summer than I was last year, however (you know me) I feel it could always be better.

I live in a sober living house again. After moving into my own fancy apartment, I came to realize I was lacking internal work and replacing it with external shiny things and it led to my relapse. So I moved back into my sober living environment (a house shared with like-minded people focused on their recovery) and lost a bunch of money and ended a friendship over it. (More of that as it develops.)

So here I am, in a safe place, and not taking advantage of it. Meanwhile, becoming restless, irritable, and discontent. Blaming it all on my med changes (which actually did affect me a bit) but also just stopping there and not trying to put better tools in my toolbox. I’ve also gained a bunch of weight that I’d lost when I was doing what I was supposed to so ya know, that makes me feel awesome.
I haven’t thought about drinking, but if you know anything about alcoholism you know that the problem doesn’t start with the drink. There is something else, utterly in need of attention, needing to be addressed. I haven’t addressed it yet.

I’ve done this enough times to know something is wrong. That this is where it starts and it always ends badly. So then, I’m re-writing the story. This is how I’m going to start it.

The house manager  of my sober living is requiring everyone to do 90 meetings in 90 days. A meeting a day. No big deal, I like meetings. But…. did you just tell me I had to go to 90 meetings in 90 days? Oh hell no. Oh no, you din’t.

She did.
The disease of addiction, the spiritual  malady that I have, immediately let my ego and pride take over. “How dare you, I’m an adult, why would you ask this of me? I’m not going to do it, screw you.” (I told my house manager all of this, by the way,  and she was like, ‘Yeah, I figured.’)

So I was at Marshall’s, talking to my sponsor about this, internally freaking out and I texted my life partner, haha, and he said some insightful things like, “Are you mad because it’s mandatory? We can’t pretend we don’t have cancer just because we’d rather go to the movies than get chemotherapy. You can’t just pretend things are great by getting back on the horse too fast. My flu doesn’t go away just because I go to work and rode a bicycle.” 
Then I was like,
Then I really thought about it. I owned the situation. I re-wrote the circumstance. God put this house, this house manager, in my life for a reason. 90 meetings in 90 days is actually a brilliant idea for someone like me, honestly, and you know how I know it’s a great idea? Because I didn’t come up with it.
I’ve lost touch with my spirituality, with my mission to stay sober and recover from the beliefs and behaviors that held me in bondage for so many years.
I can’t write for this blog saying I’m “set free” and shit if I’m still in bondage to a disease that makes me go to jail and mental hospitals. I just can’t. Also, it kind of makes me a bitch. And Bitchy Vanessa is a Sad Vanessa because nobody wants to play with her.
I remembered I took a pay cut, I changed careers, because this job that I love also knows my issues and puts value in me as a human being to get help. So I asked for help. I asked for help, you guys. And they gave it to me.
So now I’m all set to start my 90 meetings in 90 days and I’m SO STOKED!! Like seriously, I feel reborn. I started my prayer and meditation this morning and it was AWESOMEEEEE and I’m just so excited and happy and like DUH about everything and thank God love is patient and love is kind because that’s exactly what God is in my life. 
I’ll keep you posted on how my meetings go  — stay tuned.