Saturday April 21st 2016 – I went back to AA a shaking, shivering mess, huddled in my thick parka and scarf, crying and ashamed. Defeated and full of remorse and fear. The Big Book says it all, the program speaks of the alcoholic who is truly defeated and ready to admit powerlessness. With that change came a loss of all of my connections as most of them were toxic, based on shared addictions and my decision to be abstinent and sober was too confronting for most friends. I lost my best friend – alcohol – and then my minimal friendships because I finally realised I couldn’t keep doing the same old behaviours and expect positive changes.
One friend – Philly – said to me “I miss the drunk Isabella” – at the time I didn’t know what to say, yet internally I was screaming and shouting abuse. I wanted to shout, punch and pummel him with reminders of drunken calls, near fatal overdoses, falls and near death experiences. I didn’t say anything.
What I did do was cease contact with Philly who had been in my life since I was 18. Philly had been my best friend for a decade in my 20’s, in my 30’s we still had drunken, drug fuelled catch ups every couple of years. Philly who professed undying love for me, who I had called whilst overdosing and would visit me in hospital when Joey saved my arse from dying. Philly who admitted he did nothing when I called him to say goodbye, that I had taken a shit load of meds and wine – because he was home alone and too drunk to so anything to save or help me.
Philly would try to tempt me with alcohol, drugs or both. Every. Single. Time I tried to get sober. Is that friendship? Is that healthy? Is that fair? Is that love? No. That’s what addiction does to people – it fights to keep its friends close and equally unwell so that the individual does not have to face their own addictions, struggles, pain and self sabotaging choices and actions.
My desperate desire to be sober held a mirror up to my friends and showed them their own sickness – which they were not ready to accept. It was not my place to force them to see their own addictions, pain and chaos created by their addictions. And that’s ok. Some friends I distanced myself from slowly and carefully as I did not want to harm them further. Others turned on me – lashing out in anger, blaming and critising me for my new lifestyle and quiet voice of change. These friends ceased contact with me and it was explosive, painful and full of anger and arguments – recriminations and judgements from both sides. I had yet to learn to avoid or cease the toxic patterns of our friendships or relationship – something I still struggle with today.
Yet here I am – still sober, with a small group of strong healthy friends who only want the best for me. I now seek healthy, balanced company. I seem to be almost “adopted” by people who see something in me that they like. I question their desire to be my friend – are they crazy? Do they pity me? What do they think I can give them in return for their amazing qualities, support and friendship? Are they nuts???
I am slowly learning to accept that others see something in me I do not yet fully see or own. I observe their healthy choices, listen to their love of excercise, healthy eating and gardening, gigs, music festivals, travel (NO girls I am never going to be into excercise like you – that’s where I draw the line!!!!) and, occasionally I ask for advice and act on it.
The only changes I should be focusing on is that of my own choices and life – other peoples lives are their own business. Until their choices and actions impact me – THEN it’s my business up to a point.
Both are Australian companies who passionately, and creatively, work to engage and support our vulnerable members of our society.
In turn, this sums up my year to date.
I have posts that I have not made public on this blog – will do so over the next few weeks.
Fair to say that 2019 is nothing like I expected, I am in a strange but safe place in life.
Christmas Eve I felt my self snap – I simply broke inside – my ability to bounce back, my spark, my life force was snuffed out. Since then I’ve declined rapidly, despite extensive and increased professional medical support and therapy.
I again find myself unemployed, unemployable and without the ability to even think of work – this has never happened to me before. I’ve always been a worker and thrown myself into jobs, careers and education to re-create myself. Driven by money, sense of self through profession and need to be needed – dreaming of work, working 50 – 60 hour weeks, 7 days a week. Starting at 6.30 in the morning and leaving at 6 pm at night to do more work.
I’ve burnt out, been burned professionally and lost trust, hope and faith in the corporate world.
Since the start of May, I haven’t worked and will not be returning to work again in the foreseeable future. I cannot even manage minimal tasks without sensory overload, I’ve reverted back to old behaviours which I try to keep in check.
The remainder of 2019 remains a mystery – one thing I do know is that I cannot even think of working or studying – I have an internal meltdown. Apparently I have a huge amount of therapy and work on myself that I cannot even fathom the enormity of what I’ve hidden for so many years.
To sum it up, my house, garden and cats are my safe haven for now and I keep stimulus to a minimum to the best of my ability.
My plan is to write, undertake therapy and nurture self through gardening indoor and outdoor plants and gardens and seek minimal communication with friends. It’s all too overwhelming.
Yet, I am safe, calm in this very second, and know that I have done the best I can.