Serenity

The meeting was big. And I didn’t get to share.

I was at a meeting tonight.
I had a bizarre realization:
Of all of the people there…I’d been clean for longer than all but a few. Of all the 35 people there…I’d been without drugs or alcohol longer than all but a handful.
What a strange place to find myself.
There was a man who picked up a white keytag…
He rolled his eyes and shamefully walked toward the chair of the meeting…embarrassed to be admitting to relapse…again.
I remember so vividly being him. In that exact spot. At this same meeting…almost 6 years ago.
How the fuck did I end up on the other side?
I remember it felt like swimming upstream for the longest time. Days. Months. The first year, if not two…or three…
I remember when I picked up my keytag for my first year clean…I was standing outside after the meeting, smoking a cigarette, and I asked a man who had a few years in recovery, “When does the serenity come? I think I’m doing something wrong, because -I feel a lot of things- and serene is definitely not one of them.” He just laughed.
I saw him at this meeting I went to tonight. He still has more clean time than me…but he sounds very angry when he speaks.
Again — I feel a lot of things. Anger is definitely not one of them. Not today, at least. And not regularly. I’ve done enough reflection to know that anger covers sadness…and fear. I don’t make my home in anger anymore. Nothing constructive comes in hiding behind the mask of anger.
When did I end up with serenity?
This meeting that I went to tonight was a topic meeting.
The chair of the meeting said, “Does anyone have a topic about recovery they want to talk about?” And this guy I’d never seen before said, “I’m new to this…I’ve only been to a few meetings…and I wanna know…like, what do you get out’ve it? Like…what are the “good things” that happen after coming to these meetings for a while?”
And the meeting was big. And I didn’t get to share. And I wanted so badly to tell him everything about the peace that I’ve found. The serenity.
I am a hot mess. I’m relatively young…with two children…a husband…two dogs…I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m doing it to the best of my ability.
And I’m at peace. I have serenity.
I wanted to tell him about how I couldn’t get a week clean for many, many, many tries. And how it felt so deflating. And how I was sure that I’d never make it to get that next 30-day keytag. And about how I was in a horribly toxic relationship. And how I allowed this person to put me and my daughter in incredibly dangerous situations and positions…and how I allowed this person to mentally and physically push me around and how I know now that I am worth so much more than that. And how now my daughter calls a man “daddy” that didn’t make her…but is raising her as if he did…and loves her and me and now her brother with all of his heart and treats us all with respect and loyalty and adoration. And I wanted to tell him about living with my mom…to living in transitional living for homeless…to living in my very own apartment…to now owning a home. And I wanted to tell him about dropping out of school…and going back to school…and about being a single mom…and getting my bachelor’s degree…and having a baby on purpose…and going to church because I want to…and about being able to pray and give thanks and ask for guidance…and about being able to pray for people that I don’t particularly care for and knowing that God loves him and her and them as much as he loves me and it’s through His strength that I continue to pray blessings upon people that my brain and my heart very bluntly are at odds with…and about compassion and about humility…and being honest with myself and my family and my doctors and my friends…and about being able to communicate even when it’s uncomfortable…and how I rediscovered passions (like working with children and writing and smiling at strangers and obsessively taking pictures and singing obnoxiously along to every song in the car) that had been clouded and covered by booze and dope…and about coming to the realization that I’m an introvert and it’s totally okay that I only have a scoop of really intimate friendships…and I don’t have to like everyone and everyone sure as hell doesn’t have to like me…
I wanted to tell him all of these things. Or at least a few of them. But the meeting was big. And I didn’t get to share.
So I thought I’d share it here. If anyone is considering a life of recovery…without drugs…without alcohol…it’s worth it. You’re worth it.