Two weeks ago, my eldest daughter got married to a young man who in addition to being a really great guy, has the added distinction of being 9 years clean and sober. Nice having two sons who both have more sobriety than I do: a son who's over 7 and 1/2 years sober and now a son-in-law with 9 years. Anyway, it was an absolutely great day. Got to dance the second dance with my daughter and I didn't embarrass her or myself in the process. Toward the end of the dance, my wife and son came dancing up next to us and my wife asked me if we could switch places... I agreed and then let her dance with my daughter and I danced with my son Pat. It was great.
What does all that have to do with my having an anxiety a little over a week after the wedding? I really can't ever remember having an anxiety attack before in my life. I'd heard my wife talk about her experiences of having anxiety attacks at various times in her life, but I never could understand why they were such a big deal to her and why she didn't just "snap out of them". But last Tuesday, I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I woke up with the realization that I'd neglected to do one of the several hundred "mission critical" tasks that I was responsible for implementing before our office move later this month. Somehow, this particular task had fallen off my radar and I woke up panicked at the fact that I hadn't done what I was supposed to do.
What was weird is that I got up and went into the living room and sent off a couple of emails to members of my staff letting them know that we would need to move forward with this neglected task first thing in the morning. That was all I needed to do and the task was going to get done. But the anxiety didn't go away. It lasted for about 12 hours... I was aware of it remaining with me all during that time. But I didn't stay stuck in that anxiety. I went back to sleep for a couple of hours and then went to an early morning meeting before going to work. I was anxious during the entire meeting. Talked to a few friends before and after the meeting, but the anxiety remained. Went to work and did what I needed to do, but the anxiety was still there. It was gradually lessening in intensity, but it was there.
I went to a noon meeting and the guy who chaired the meeting talked about how when he was 10 years sober, he'd stupidly prayed to God saying that he was finding life way too boring and asked God to give him something interesting to deal with. Within a month or two, he was diagnosed with cancer. I knew this guy when he walked through his cancer treatments and recalled how I admired his courage and perseverance during that difficult period of his life. As he recounted his story on Wednesday, I thought how silly it was for me to be so filled with anxiety about a stupid office move when this guy walked through and continues to walk through a recovery from a second deadly disease. When called on that day, I didn't have much time to share, but I did let the group know that I was really struggling with an anxiety attack from hell that day and that today's chair gave me the knowledge that what I needed to do was simply walk through this anxiety and that it would eventually pass. And it did, slowly.
Then two days later, I went to an early morning meeting and the chair that day talked about her father who was also an alcoholic who died having stopped drinking for some years, but without ever having discovered a sober way of living. As she talked, it dawned on me why I had the anxiety attack and it turns out that it had nothing to do with my job. It had to do with my dad...
A few days after my daughter's marriage, I was looking through hundreds of pictures taken during and around the wedding. Each time I came to a picture of me, I was struck by the fact that I looked like my father who'd died around 15 years ago from his alcoholism. Some pictures were of me from the back and all you could see was my back and my gray hair: it could have been my dad. One picture was of me and my hands: they were his hands! The face with glasses: his face, his eyes, his glasses! And each time I saw my dad in me, there was a palpable sadness, regret, shame and/or anger. Why wasn't he there for this celebration! Why didn't he stop drinking when I asked him to?
That was the source of my anxiety attack. Or was it?
At a subsequent meeting, I was recounting this journey through anxiety and how I'd seen my dad in the pictures of me....when it dawned on me that I wasn't really angry or ashamed at my dad: I was sad over the fact that I'd never fully forgiven my dad for being the alcoholic that he was. And even more, I was sad over the fact that I'd never fully forgiven myself for being the alcoholic that I was, that I am. That I'd hadn't been able to stop either when my son's therapist asked me to stop in order to be supportive of my son's attempt to deal with his drug addiction. That I'd drank secretly for almost ten months as he struggled mightily with his disease.
I'm grateful for all of this today. I continue to revel in the joy surrounding my daughter's wedding. I'm sitting here at work on a Sunday afternoon finishing up several more of those "mission critical" tasks needing to get done before our office move. I feel closer and more connected to my father, proud of him for all that he was able to do in his life, including loving me in a way that made me always know in my innermost being that I was indeed loved and lovable. Thankful for him being who he was because ultimately, that led to me being who I am, a sober alcoholic, an a father of one, now two sober sons in recovery.
What's wrong with this picture? Nothing. Nothing at all.
Take care!
Mike L.
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2 comments:
I do not have a lot of sobriety. I am doing everything that is suggested, try the twelve steps, pray, and I am willing to work with others.
My opinion on working with others has always been one of attraction, not promotion, so I do not actively seek out people to work with. The best I've been able to progress to is to walk up to newcomers and introduce myself and give them my phone number and tell them that I am willing to work with them if they want.
Yet, I can relate very much to your anxiety attack. I have some financial issues that involves lawyers and I was called last week and told that there would be no settlement and I would be sued and my credit would be ruined and I would have to file bankruptcy or expect to never have a house or have my bank account seized (there's nothing in it anyway).
It scared me -- no panicked me, and brought me instantly to Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, and Despair. It took me back to day one in sobriety when the paranoia struck and I could trust no one.
I tried prayer and it was little relief. I tried a sponsor and it was little relief. It has been hard to focus on my immediate tasks and the relationship with the family has become numb. I simply feel like I don't have anything to offer and I am afraid of losing them.
I read step twelve the other day and it is vital. I have heard over and over that working with others will work when nothing else will. Yet, it does not seem right to stalk newcomers. I am full of fear. I read about the generosity of my brother AA's who are only too glad to help when I deserve it (whatever that means) -- that we all know what it feels like to be broken and insecure.
My sponsor spent a whole day demoralizing me -- his words were something along the lines of killing my expectations. Now I am thinking that a job a Starbucks may be aiming too high. I am totally powerless.
Yet here I am, still here and I am able to mostly show up and put a smile on my face, even when I know it's a lie.
I don't have any solutions today -- just mess. But I have to get it out.
Take care.
StillSoberafteralltheseyears's post was great. I apologize it took me so long to publish it. The only thing I don't like about these comments is that it's most often impossible to respond directly to the person who left a comment. So, I'm left with the ability only to add my own comment and hope that StillSoberafteralltheseyears comes back to check on his/her comment.
What struck me most was the comment about the sponsor demoralizing him. That's not right. I'd strongly suggest finding another sponsor. I've been lucky in that regard: my sponsors (I have three, two of them are alive and I talk to the dead one more than the live ones!) all told me one thing when they agreed to sponsor me: (1) they would never knowingly or intentionally hurt me and (2) they would never tell me what to do. Period. They never told me to call them everyday or to work the steps or to go to meetings. They met with me when I asked to meet with them. When I told them what was going on, they listened and they responded not with instructions but with stories. Great stories.
Take care! Wish I could do something more to help.
Mike L.
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