As an Addict in Mourning, I’ve Got to Be More Mindful
March 5, 2012
I have been working today on getting back to being grounded, getting back to emotional sobriety. It was a difficult weekend where my feelings were particularly keen and prickly. It involved some temptation and slippage, most probably brought on by my lack of sleep. It also didn’t help that I was inattentive to what I was doing or where I was emotionally in a given moment. Ultimately, the limbo I was stuck in was brought on by the fact that I’m an addict in recovery and I have to work to be more mindful.
What I do after a slip is a more intense version of what I do with my daily life in recovery. I made a ton of calls to fellows in program and my therapist. I also attempted to work back through my day’s emotions, and find out what dropped my defenses, what left me vulnerable. At the root of my difficulties is the fact that I’m very sad about the demise of my relationship with the mother of my children. And the aforementioned lack of sleep did nothing to help me sit with that fact.
Rather than make excuses or beat myself up, I bolstered my program of recovery. So, I have a new accountability partner for the evenings, where I find myself tempted to stay up all hours for no reason. That lack of sleep duplicates my addiction’s sense of entitlement without actually acting out. Like my procrastination issues, it sucks away time I could otherwise spend more healthily, and it leaves me vulnerable to returning to my full-blown addiction.
Also, and at least temporarily, I will be even more careful about where I go online, about how and when my mind drifts during the day, especially when I’m at work. Because right now, with so much going on emotionally in my heart and spirit, it’s been difficult to be right where I am in the present. Frankly, work is a challenge, home is a challenge, a lot of scenarios which would otherwise be pedestrian, are going to be a challenge. I’m in mourning; and I’m an addict.
I’m going to try to reintroduce meditation to keep me grounded, not fretting what’s around the corner, or regretting the human errors I make in the wake of my day-to-day existence. Ultimately, that’s who and what I am — a human being who makes mistakes, but who can learn from them, and who can put into practice this amazing, God-given program of recovery to ensure I live my life as healthily as possible. A fellow in recovery reiterates often this truism: whatever I put in front of my recovery I will lose. I was given a reminder of that just this last week, and I am seeking out the God of my understanding to take better care of myself today.