|
|
|
The loss of one electron often turns an atom from negative to positive. Five simple rules of happiness:
Breathe in Faith... Breathe out Fear...
Looking for a sober
vacation spot? Gourmet food, Cute rooms and recovery atmosphere. If you like this site please feel free to link to us. 5 Stages of Grief *** Depression is often Anger turned inward! *** One Day at a Time |
The Gordian-Knot
Chapter One Once
upon a time, King Gordius of Phrygia tied an extremely complicated knot and held
it for public viewing. At the same time it was decreed that anyone who could
successfully manage to undo this knot would ultimately conquer the world. Alexander
the Great, on his notable conquest, took one look at this complicated knot and
simply cut it in two with one stroke from his powerful sword. Since that time
the term "to cut the Gordian knot" has been used to describe cutting
through a maze of seemingly complicated and unsolvable issues to gain an
effective resolution with one simple, decisive action. It
was fittingly a cold, blustery evening in late January when I was beaten enough
to finally reach out. Fearing sarcasm, as well as the unknown, I asked my
younger brother to accompany me, eighteen years ago, to my first Alcoholics
Anonymous meeting. As
we shivered nervously through the parking lot, my life flashed quickly through
my consciousness. Random thoughts zipped along chronologically from the first
warm taste of my grandmothers 'medicinal' brandy, to the magical first teenage
drink of social courage. Then to, the ever-present guilty memory of that early
morning, smoldering, fatal car crash. And finally to the everyday, rather fuzzy,
images of my two little children and the absolute terror in their pregnant
mothers eyes, as she took them for the final time to higher ground, a shelter
for abused families. Once
in a while through the effects of the stale whiskey, I faded into the present
long enough to see yet another fancy automobile shining in the parking lot. I
remember thinking quite clearly that this seemed rather contradictory for
a group that must surely contain the absolute dregs of our society. What
was wrong with this picture? I had to know! Finally,
we made it through the imposing church doors and into a room full of well
dressed folks who were chatting and laughing. I thought I had the wrong night so
I nervously asked the usual question; "Is this AA?" "Boy
Scouts is at the other end of the Hall," came the sarcastic retort. I
looked at my brother and we decided to grant this poor misguided soul a
temporary reprieve on his miserable life and went on in to sweat out the
meeting. The
chap who was chairing the meeting was wearing about the largest diamond ring I
had ever seen. As he spoke about quitting drinking one day at a time the lights
started to come on for me. It was baffling. I had always had failed so miserably
at quitting forever and after many painful attempts, I knew, I never wanted to
do that again! But one day! Yes, I was positive I could quit for one day. As a
matter of fact, I could probably do anything for just one day! That
was the day I cut the Gordian-knot, and began to see my problems in a new flash
of clarity! On
our way out, I checked the parking lot again. Yes, the folks from the meeting
were driving away in all that shiny iron. I was hooked! I
was twenty seven years old, a husband and a father, qualified and capable as a
tradesman, but my problems seemed simply too great to even attempt a beginning
at finding a solution, other than to grasp the immediate relief of another
addictive behavior and I had many. I couldn't even dream of ever wanting to see
age thirty, yet paradoxically I didn't want to die with all my music still shut
up inside me. I always knew that, deep down, I had some value, to myself, and
possibly even to society, but somehow believed life and all it's problems were
indelibly inflicted on me. Even
on my best days, I knew I drank far too much and far too often but I had three
indisputable reasons to not classify myself as an alcoholic. The first was that
I was way too young, the second was, of course, that I was too good looking, and
the last and by far the most concrete was the proven fact that I was far, far
too smart to ever allow anything like alcoholism to affect me. I had accelerated
in school, had been always in the top of my class and certainly would never
allow anything as ridiculous as alcohol to obtain mastery over me. Yet, it most
surely had. To
make matters worse my three main afflictions were totally intertwined. The first
thing I had reached out to for comfort, in my childhood, was sugar, especially
chocolate. These soothing sweets later unwrapped themselves and presented, their
chemical cousin, alcohol. My brief love affair with the elusive, social bon
vivant had escalated rather quickly from the epitome of highs, to the present
routine, quart a day commitment. And I certainly despised commitments, of any
sort. Second,
was an hoo-hah attraction for adrenalin, first innocently administered by a
physician to treat my acute asthma paroxysms, then frantically produced by my
many active compulsions such as shoplifting, sex, over-exercising, people
pleasing and gambling. Thirdly,
was a contradictory passion for comfortable situations, gained primarily by
living in a fantasy world of what it would be like if......! Stepping outside my
comfort zone was almost impossible without the use of some form of stimulant. I
could risk money and relationships but I could not risk any of my already hurt
beyond repair, precious, protected and overvalued feelings. To
add to this already explosive mix, my major caregiver, a dear, sweet Jekyll and
Hyde alcoholic, had been my live in grandmother. She had, as is very common and
usual for alcoholics, been improperly diagnosed and treated as a mental patient.
And thus, we had all received a certified, though thoroughly bogus, case of
inherited, congenital mental illness. For
many years I erroneously thought mine and my children's alcoholic symptoms
were born out of this inherent mental condition which, of course, ran in the
family and also which, of course, we could do nothing about but endure since the
shock treatments, medications and experimental LSD treatments had failed to
yield satisfactory results with dear old Grandma. Through
my apparent haze I could detect many similarities in both of our symptoms and
noticed my inappropriate behaviors, on occasion, to be tenfold in excess of
hers. But having seen the result of that type of treatment I managed to avoid
the psychiatrists net. The
one saving grace we all had, as a family, that kept us all from being labeled
totally "white trash", was the fact that we went to church every
Sunday. My mother and father and even I would sing beautiful hymns and special
musical performances before an always-appreciative congregation. Then as always
we would return to the isolated, Godless insanity of our four walls. Looking back, my earliest symptom or reaction to the strange situation in our home came through my acute asthma attacks. Over the years, I was treated for this breathless condition by faith healers, naturopaths, chiropractors, hordes of medical allergy specialists, sitting in the bottom of cold damp mines, vitamin supplements, prayer groups and routine exorcisms. The latter were extremely frightening, since my already vivid imagination conjured up the visions of various demons residing inside me, so much so, that they probably, in fact, did become my reality. In any event they usually only led to more fear induced asthma attacks, so were simply another ineffective treatment for my asthma. Later on, ten years or so of extreme alcoholic drinking added quite a few more demons, to the extent that even the slightest night time creak in the house floorboards would often trigger a swat team style response from this anxious, axe wielding, paranoid, asthmatic and by now totally crazy homeowner. Once in
recovery, I have found the popular 'Exorcist' movies to be
light, humorous entertainment and found myself relating to and laughing through
the scary parts, much to the consternation of my fellow theatre patrons. No
one ever imagines that alcoholics are not born with big, bad attitudes and
matching red noses. Rather they could occasionally be scared little children
with demons perhaps not entirely of their own making.
|
Sex Inventory 2008 Workbook
Call Toll Free 1 877-767-2121 To Purchase with Credit Card or email us to buy with Paypal or Check *** True addiction recovery lies in the ability to deal with root issues, not simply medicate the symptoms of them." DB
"There is a difference between knowing the path and walking the path!" *** You do not have to carry yesterday's hurt and damaged feelings into today. A fresh supply of new feelings is yours for the taking!
|
|
When All Else fails use Rule 62.
THIS SITE DOES NOT PROVIDE MEDICAL ADVICE. The information provided is for educational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice. Always seek the advice of your health care professional if you have a specific health concern. If you are a multiple addict and having trouble getting through the modern diagnosis process to gain an effective recovery, please read through these pages. Need assistance with an counselor issue...? Check out the good information and links at www.icadc.org
Contact: Addictionz Victoria, BC Canada Tel 250-418-5110
|
