Stuck in Chicago

You would think that in our current pandemic reality I would have plenty of time to write. In truth, I do have more time; however, I am still “working” in my ghost town daycare that just won’t seem to shut down. I teach art at my son’s new daycare. I am used to 90 or more kiddos coming in and out of my studio all day long. Since Monday, I average 20 kids total. So, I do have more free time, although, it is not the same as many other people sheltering in place.

Where do I start with everything that has happened? I started school shortly after the holidays and applied for a job at a fancy daycare to supplement my income. For a while I was working full time, attending graduate school part time, and retained my old job part time. It was incredibly stressful. I eventually broke down. I stopped attending regular meetings and stopped calling my sponsor. I relapsed in a new and terrifying intensity. Everything got very bad very quickly, and I was ready to watch it all burn. I was done with life and didn’t see any coming back to it. I can still remember how I felt, and how much it hurt. I was exhausted and alone in my mind. As my new sponsor explained it, it was like having my soul sucked out of me. It was a profoundly painful experience. I was pushed further towards the edge in my insanity. The paradoxical nature of this was that it wasn’t such a scary place to be in the moment. Living is hard. Dying is easy, and I was tired of fighting.

What was I fighting? I suppose it was a false sense of control over my life and my disease. I was running myself ragged trying to do it all and ignoring the most important parts of my life. It makes me wonder if any of it is worth the trouble. Money comes and goes, and by the time I’m done with grad school I’ll be about $60,000 in student loan debt. I thought that finding a career path that would allow me to be of service to people would complement my spiritual program. Now I’m having doubts.

I don’t know if I would have made it out of this relapse alone. Thankfully, my partner called me on my bullshit and quickly got me to a meeting. I got a new sponsor right away, and my partner and I were able to go on our trip to Florida. Six days in Florida bliss felt like it lasted six seconds. We haven’t even been back for a full week yet, and it feels like it has been months. I hate living in Chicago. I am not built for the lack of sunshine, the oppressive overcast skies, air that hurts your face, and weather that confines me to my home. I can’t hack it anymore, and I’m just plain tired of living this way. In Florida I was filled with hope and inspired by the possibilities of the future. As I sit here in my empty studio, watching the rain on the sidewalk outside, I just want to cry. That feeling of wanting to get away from here creeps back in to my heart, and I wonder how long I will last this time.

 

Trudging the Road

I am tired. The divorce is finalized, but my work is far from over. I have to file two years of back income taxes, file for bankruptcy, put my condo up for sale with in 30 days, and find some place to live once it sells. I am working 9.5 hour days to make up for missing work for court on Tuesday, and I’m just completely drained.

I am still making five meetings a week, talking to my sponsor daily, reading daily, praying daily, listening to speakers in my car on the way to work, and soon I will need to get to work on my second 4th step. I am not looking forward to it. The first time around, I was happy to do it. I wanted to unload all the demons of my past. This time around, I feel like I should have known better. I knew I was an alcoholic. I knew there was a solution, and I knew how to stay sober. Still, I said “I’ve got this,” and proceeded to royally screw up my life. I used and hurt people, stole, lied, and drank my way to oblivion.

After my first fuck up, I tried to go back to AA as usual. I got a new sponsor and pretended nothing happened. Every second in every meeting I felt like a fraud. I stayed sober for some time, but it was easier to fall away from AA the second time. I never felt like I really came back anyways. I wasn’t honest and was pretending to be something I was not.

I got wrapped up in a new and exciting love at the same time my entire world changed. I filed for an order of protection, bought a car, got a fulltime job, put my son in daycare, and then filed for divorce all in the span of a month or two. I got busy, and my sparse free time was completely ear marked (by me) for time with new love. I stopped going to meetings, and eventually was left, yet again, defenseless against that first drink.

A deadly dance ensued of sober periods followed by deceptive drunken excursions. If it wasn’t such a serious, life threatening disease, I would describe some of the shit I pulled as comical shenanigans. Alas, they were not.

I would quit, start again, quit, start again, and then I got back to that hellish place where I couldn’t stop. I always end up there. All self talk in my head grew very hostile. What the hell are you doing? You know this could ruin everything. You could lose everything. You idiot! What the hell is the matter with you?! All thoughts were quickly dismissed by the obsession of how I was going to get my next drink.

I had been sober since a short stint in the hospital. Then the e-mail came that the judge had set my divorce case to go to trial. I threw my hands up and set my intentions on getting obliterated that night, and I did, bringing my partner along for the ride. I drank a bit the next day too, but something had happened and my partner decided he needed to get to a meeting and it couldn’t wait. So I took him to where I knew there were good people. My birthday was very lack luster this year as it was detox day 1, but that didn’t matter to me at all. We’ve been going to meetings together ever since.

My dilemma now is clearing away the wreckage of the past. My mistake in “coming back” the first time, was not being honest and getting everything out of me. So, I have got to do this 4th/5th step with my new sponsor. But as I said, I am TIRED. Perhaps a bit of self care and a good nights sleep will help renew my zeal to really dig in to my dirt. I suppose we shall see. All I really know is that it is something I absolutely have to do if I want to stay sober and keep growing in the program. And I do want that; more than anything in the world.