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July 25
Dear G-d I need help. I need help availing myself of the help you have provided me. I am embarrassed to lack the ability to complete all the steps necessary for achieving the goals you have set before me. I see now that it is always my turn with you and I can stop standing aside believing that I have had your attention and must now do without. I do not want to ask for more; I don’t want to seem greedy. I forget that you know my heart and that you trust me. I am going to make that a two-way street, maybe a four-lane highway. I need help, thank you for being help full. Love, Sherrie The obvious is sometimes invisible * ACCESS Writing to you my Sweet, Allows me to give what I have available At the moment it comes into my possession. You reading lets you invite me in, When you are ready or willing Possibly both. I can store succulent treasure for you Without the least consideration of Freezer burn or apathy. You are here when I want you, Yearning and prepared I am yours for the taking In the classroom, the bedroom Or even in your bath I can whisper or shout to you. I can rant or tell jokes to you You can embrace or ignore me Introduce me to your friends Or keep me your own personal province. We are intimates Because I bare my soul to you And you take me into yours. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
July 26
Keds If I gave a child a pair of sneakers would I refuse to help them to tie them on? Would I want this kid to wear them open, tongues hanging out, laces dangling and dangerous? Or worse would I want the child to have to lug the sneakers around; the kid feeling the need to treasure the gift and protect it from use or wear? I hope that I would not be this sick, misguided or deranged. I have to say that I have given up believing in a crazy G-d but this doesn’t mean that I can’t drive G-d crazy with my insane behavior. I have to stick my feet inside my shoes and lift my foot for help and open my mouth to ask, then pay close attention so I can learn to do it on my own; all the while not beating myself up that I can’t do it already. Treat adventure as a requirement for life * STUBBORN When the donkey won’t move forward It’s time to stop running No need to make an ass of myself Through force or coercion. The dumb animal may be mute but its actions speak. Reluctance is a warning. If my animal nature is balking Listening not shoving in the preferred course. Super intelligence can’t best good horse sense. I must stand with my intuition That creature depends on my survival for life. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
July 27
Un-imbedded This week I have decided to be braver about where I invest my time, not all of it mind you but a portion of my diligent yet strangely unproductive time. I have to say I am realizing that I hide in pretty much every area of my life and that is no way to live and a really bad example to offer. The worst thing about hiding is it doesn't keep me safe; it just subjects me to different evils. It reminds me of that poor reporter who was imbedded in a tank and he died from not moving and his blood pooling and dehydration, so the tank kept him from getting his head shot off, but killed him in a different way, so in the end he wasn't safe and neither am I. I believe in prudence as a good policy, I do, but there is much that could make me stronger, happier, better, if I lift my head a bit and reach out my hand. Defrost things which freeze you in place * ALICE Because I even wore out my welcome at the Mad Hatters house, I can sit on my hands at my sponsors table And listen, listen, listen. If I had been able to make a place for myself with the looking glass folk I could never let myself loose my eccentricities And join in the fellowship. Going down further than a rabbit hole I lost my need to chase or scramble after bunnies For time or card tricks. No more illusions for me. I am awake and shaded by the tree of AA branching over me Sisters I didn’t know take my hand. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
July 27
We do recover “After coming to NA, we found ourselves among a very special group of people who have suffered like us and found recovery. In their experiences, freely shared, we found hope for ourselves. If the program worked for them, it would work for us.” Basic Text, p. 10 ––––=–––– A newcomer walks into his or her first meeting, shaking and confused. People are milling about. Refreshments and literature are set out. The meeting starts after everyone has drifted over to their chairs and settled themselves in. After taking a bewildered glance at the odd assortment of folks in the room, the newcomer asks, “Why should I bet my life on this group? After all, they’re just a bunch of addicts like me.” Though it may be true that not many of our members had much going for us when we got here, the newcomer soon learns that the way we are living today is what counts. Our meetings are filled with addicts whose lives have turned completely around. Against all odds, we are recovering. The newcomer can relate to where we’ve been and draw hope from where we are now. Today, every one of us has the opportunity to recover. Yes, we can safely entrust our lives to our Higher Power and to Narcotics Anonymous. So long as we work the program, the payoff is certain: freedom from active addiction and a better way of life. ––––=–––– Just for today: The recovery I’ve found in Narcotics Anonymous is a sure thing. By basing my life on it, I know I will grow. Copyright © 1991-2013 by Narcotics Anonymous World Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved |
July 28
Clap I know how to put my hands together, but I am unable to clap. It’s not that my palms can’t locate each other; it’s that I cannot find the beat. I sing; lilting rhythms rolling from my tongue. I keep time and drum the tattoo of jingle dress dance songs, but when my hand comes against its mate something is off. Faltering nuance plays havoc with my exuberant desire. I want to join the crowd in syncopated applause, yet my brain drops out. Because the gap is too far to leap I must walk around to the other side and by then I’ve lost the moment, the world has moved on without me. I used to think I needed to run my routine a little faster, but now I realize I need to learn to leap the gap and trust the beat to find me. Engender your actions with optimism * PRESTO Just because I own pointy boots Doesn’t mean I can corral the cows. I have in my possession many things Of subtle intent but they can’t transform me. The wings from Halloween don’t make me an angel. The Big Book on the shelf won’t sober me up. Nothing holds the magic to change me. I can only change with help. Action, action and more action Is the magician’s slide of hand. It slides my hand from glass to grace I don’t need to pull a rabbit from my hat. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
July 28
Secrets and intimacy We feared that if we ever revealed ourselves as we were, we would surely be rejected. Basic Text, p. 32 = Having relationships without barriers, ones in which we can be entirely open with our feelings, is something many of us desire. At the same time, the possibility of such intimacy causes us more fear than almost any other situation in life. If we examine what frightens us, well usually find that we are attempting to hide an aspect of our personalities that we are ashamed of, an aspect we sometimes havent even admitted to ourselves. We dont want others to know of our insecurities, our pain, or our neediness, so we simply refuse to expose them. We may imagine that if no one knows about our imperfections, those imperfections will cease to exist. This is the point where our relationships stop. Anyone who enters our lives will not get past the point at which our secrets begin. To maintain intimacy in a relationship, it is essential that we acknowledge our defects and accept them. When we do, the fortress of denial, erected to keep these things hidden, will come crashing down, enabling us to build up our relationships with others. = Just for today: I have opportunities to share my inner self. I will take advantage of those opportunities and draw closer to those I love. Copyright © 1991-2013 by Narcotics Anonymous World Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved |
July 29
Expectations As we realize our need to be forgiven, we tend to be more forgiving. Basic Text, p. 39 = Our behavior toward other people in our life is a mirror of our behavior toward ourselves. When we demand perfection of ourselves, we come to demand it from others around us, too. As we strive to repair and heal our lives in recovery, we may also expect others to work just as hard and to recover at the same pace as we do. And just as we are often unforgiving of our own mistakes, we may shut out friends and family members when they dont meet our expectations. Working the steps helps us understand our own limitations and our humanity. We come to see our failures as human mistakes. We realize that we will never be perfect, that we will, at times, disappoint ourselves and others. We hope for forgiveness. As we learn to gently accept ourselves, we can start to view others with the same accepting and tolerant heart. These people, too, are only human, trying to do their best and sometimes falling short. = Just for today: I will treat others with the tolerance and forgiveness I seek for myself. Copyright © 1991-2013 by Narcotics Anonymous World Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved |
July 29
The Regulator Face to face the clock stares me down. I nearly dare the mismatched hands to beat me at my part. Their never-ending round-house drops me to the ground. My foot work is no equal for eternity. Fancy days and star lit nights distract me from the fight I’m losing, directing my thoughts to what I gain. If I turn with the hours dwelling in the moments the clock and I are friends, no more mad-dogging, no time to lose. Time is with me till the end, it is not the death of me; it’s the time of my life. Smuggle your sweetness out from under your cynicism * PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS There is a penny in the bathtub. I wonder who stood in there with loose change Possibly confused it for a wishing well the penny was tossed in. The stories I could tell, the hopes that tantalize my mind Elves and leprechauns, dreamers and optimists, All trundle through my thinking. When I don’t know the answers At least now I can look for the best, The sweetest thoughts. I don’t run to the dark and threatening disasters I have lost the lease to my personal black cloud The one which used to follow wherever I went. I can smile now And think of pennies from Heaven The first drop landed in my tub. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
July 30
The Acts of Hope I cover my head when I pray in hopes that G-d wants me sheltered. I attend meetings to keep alive the hope that sobriety is the end of isolation. I talk to the people in my network hoping I have something helpful to share. I sit down to the blank page with hopes that HP still chooses to collaborate with me. I pick up my paintbrush filled with hope that color is still my friend. I inhale air along with hope that each breath is worth the effort and I am worthy of this life. Take your inventory but don’t sell your stock * WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS DUCK The duck looks fine sitting on the edge, The rubber face frozen in a permanent grin The appearance is flawless. As long as it is not called to duty No one will ever know. Stay still---don’t jump. When dropped into the water This creature born for the tub Lays on its side, one eye looking at the ceiling The other straight at the bottom. Floating is occurring but something is oh so wrong. As indelicate as it may seem This duck needs a big squeeze No kid gloves and tender touches. This duck has sucked in old bathwater And misused ideas Only a big push in the right direction Will get this rancid stuff out. Though the duck will get bend out of shape There is no reason it can’t bounce back That’s the wonderful thing about rubber It is flexible and resilient Even if it doesn’t always volunteer. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
July 31
Charmed by Snow Warm weather snow falls in fat full flakes; I am living in a world of dreams and sweet peas. Sudden dustings sparkle and surprise leaving as quickly as they came; yet the world is kinder now. Beauty is an ambush of the heart. My breath alters, accelerates, speeding me to a smile, an illustration of joy. Crows walk the edge of the hedgerow, prattling on as they do; snow to their ankles and food on their minds. I drive over the mountains discovering myself as the recipient, the receiver of all this great gift, this life. Trek to the edge of your comfort zone and map it out * MORTIFICATION Lime with envy I built a wall around. Love and hate are enclosed, brick and stone. Rigor of extremities, the discipline of ages falls so short. I make no in-depth connections I coat externals with glue Stack reaction and let the bombs fly. I mix and crush old habits and bad ideas, make a paste. I am setting myself up again. Abstinence becomes the pestle of bludgeoning and abasement. I am hard and I am hollow Wounded pride, I subjugate my soul My life is reduced to a powder, I am mortified. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 1
Porcellano Some days I feel like a porcelain doll; hard head, hard hands, hard feet and everywhere else is soft, gormless. I feel useless and act out my feelings, stumbling through a day of pointless inactivity. I know that I belong on a shelf or propped upon the pillows of a bed, not fine enough for curio or collection, merely someone of marginal decorative value. I have gotten away from the meaning of me, the thrum of G-d’s intentions and am trapped in this world of elaboration; everything is embellished and nothing is real. It is time to put my foot down; to feel the earth solid and right, to catch my mind and take it out of its greasy spin. I am not a China doll and it is time to walk away from these purloined thoughts. Wear a white cotton cord around your waist * I KNOW I know more than I understand. I know more than I let on. I know right from wrong Left from right, uphill from down. I know you have my best interest at heart I know I often don’t. I know it hurts when I fall But holding on isn’t easy. I know that wanting is not needing And needing is not enough I know old thinking breeds old action But new thinking is often wild And requires two minds for review. I know to look three ways before crossing the street Because trouble sometimes hits head on. I know that if life is the question, yes is the answer You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 2
In Plain Sight When there is a problem, I hide. As the good places diminish I end up standing behind a pole. The trouble with this is that something always sticks out. I try weight loss, I suck in my tummy, I try to blend with the scenery. Once spotted I act nonchalant; “I’m just hanging around with my skinny friend; nothing is the matter,” attempting to cover with a casual aside what is apparent to everyone but me. I would be better off parading naked than endeavoring this piteous disguise. I can’t fool the crowd and trying to makes a fool of me. What I have forgotten is that clarity and diligence removes the target from my back and makes me invisible to almost everyone. When I solve my problem I solve this problem too. Permit anxiety to drip off you and flow away * WALKING JOY HOME I make sure to walk joy home, Not because I doubt her ability to find it alone Rather because it gives me extra time with her. I used to fear joy. That I would be intoxicated by her presents And lose my well-hardened grasp on realism. Now I see that without joy in my life there is no realism That it was only cynicism Masquerading in its place. Joy is simple and unassuming, I often confuse her with ecstasy and scoot away in shy terror Joy is nice to have around she is not just a party animal. Sometimes I invite her over for a cup of tea. When we are done I take the winding path To savor every step up to her door. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 3
Big Name My name has a foreign sound; my head turns when it is called. I recognize this as training not identity. I remember teaching the dog her name. I called it while petting and praising her, soon the name was hers. Now, I think of G-d. Did we call long and loud enough to trigger name recognition on a vast intangible? Is this how we tagged and labeled the unknowable; assigned it a place on a shelf; somewhere to be called up from? Does that noise sound as strange as the syllables of my name sound to me? Does it matter as long as we answer? Check for low doorbells and high expectations * PARADOX OF PARADISE Paradise is created when I collect paradox and live with it. Paradise is the set of acceptance and suspended disbelief. If anything is possible accepting what comes is less heart wrenching. If I arrest my misgivings Gratification in the voluptuousness of now ---is velvet. Vague consent is a Hell of incapacity. Fighting fiercely for both sides Keeps the heart pumping and the mind at bliss. I must work to embrace contradiction and happiness . There is more than one path to take And I must take that one. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 4
Sleep Tight Did you dream? Sleep the sleep of faultless souls? Or twist the sheets as in that Gilbert & Sullivan treatment? Are night time wrestlings an indication of decadent day- time activity? Or is it all simply a matter of happenstance? Possibly something I ate? Thought? Wished for? I think to myself I should not have gotten into that unmade bed, should have made it up; the bed and my mind, should have straighten out the crumpled mass of discarded dreams from yesterday and started fresh, but instead I climbed in with it all tumbled and tossed, lumpy and coarse, no smooth sailing in this tangled sea. What time I might have saved by leveling the playing field and plumping the pillows. All is not lost, there is always tonight. Sweet dreams straight ahead. Throw the ball even if you can’t pitch it * NEVER LET GO When it grows dark on one side of transparency The other becomes reflective. When addiction doesn’t hold a flame for me I see the true face of its results. Because I know now the destructive possibilities I must print the picture and post it on the wall. For the day may come when addiction appears As a light for me and the mirror will be gone. I need to keep clear the truth even when my eyes lie to me And my sensibilities catch on fire. The glass can be the boundary or the tumbler, The glare of day can be harsh or bright. Light is forever shifting I cannot count on shadows for predictions. I must know it when I see it, chant it to remember And hold hands and never let go. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 5
What are We Fighting For Instead of competition for dominance we would benefit from cooperation for survival. The struggle to become the very best destroyers in the world very well might make us postmortem champions. Why is it that the lions don’t work to eradiate hyenas? They could, but they don’t. Why not, is the ever present question on my mind. I have no answer as to why we strive to conquer. A thousand platitudes come to my head, but nothing fast or tight, nothing that holds water. So, the question remains; why are we hell bent? Welcome help * MY TALE I must be my own tattletale. I must give my sponsor bullets to shoot down my disease Anything I nurture and protect will grow and take me over. It is up to me to choose if I will feed my ailment or my health My life will be consumed that is a guarantee, All things feed into others. The direction this meal takes is my daily decision. The bull’s eye can be hit if I describe the target. The ending will be happy if the story I tell is my own. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
4 years 4 months.
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I slipped and fell off.....having a hard time getting back on.....old habits die hard.
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August 6
I didn’t mean to make you laugh You think I’m witty, well, yes, I have always been like this, no one knew quite what to do with me as a small child, but I have grown into this acumen, or possibly grown out into it is closer to accurate. I was dark witted when I was young, I think of myself as less so now, optimism is a blessing I have gained through the years, it feels good and I keep it close. I need to be a blithe spirit to travel the road I do. Tears have their place, I know that for sure, but I rather not go around with a puss on all day and all night. Additionally it is so much about perspective; you see, the honey makes the peas taste funny but at least now they stick to my knife. Assign colors to numbers * I AM I am my own hope. The spring of willingness flows within me And makes everything possible. I am my own dream. Colors and sprinkles fly in my mind And mix with a sprite’s laugh And make me enchanted. I am my own joy. Filled with wonder and delight, My quick turns and ready mind warm My heart and pink my checks. I am my own prize. New and exciting Every day that I am myself, I win. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 7
I Beg The embarrassment of need is a haunting guest who will not leave. I turn in a tight circle trying to find a way to detach this wart and move gracefully from the site of devastation, but it looms large and overshadows today’s possibilities and robs tomorrows gold. What I cannot do for myself, the magic I cannot yet perform, stands between me and contentment, stands there wearing your face; touching my mind with your fingertips. I pray that you are not the answer for I cannot depend on you, but I think of you and the little bell rings and I am hungry. Desire is a gift. Desiring you is the burden whose shadow I can’t escape. I close my eyes to the light you emit; I cannot close my heart. All that’s left is pleading; please come home and fill me or leave and lock the door and let me grieve in peace. Treat your health like your job, treat your health like your investment, treat your health like your life; it is * ROCK BOTTOM PRICES Marble topped dressers, dry sinks and wardrobes, Stand in the auctioneer’s warehouse Showing loving use and obvious value. The hungry consumers peruse the merchandise Looking for the perfect pieces To fit their need. Old men eating ice cream sandwiches pick their way through The rows of tidbits laid out on the lawn, Bargains to fill odd spaces and little desires. So like out meeting places, people trying to refurnish their lives. The cost to arrive may have been high But once in, the market is more than fair. We reclaim relics and we use them as road signs and warnings. There is always someone around to carry large truths home And no one has to go away empty handed. We bid on our own survival by buying someone else a break. Time passes easily as the one at the podium Recounts the rock bottom prices. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
Today I tried and today I failed. I guess I'll try again tomorrow
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August 8
Stand Hear The spins and pirouettes I have preformed in an attempt to avoid facing the music, were impressive but futile and ultimately delayed the beauty possible for me in this life. When I stop my running and turn on my heel there is a world of harmony waiting to take me for a turn out on the dance floor. Melody is not what I was expecting. I was so sure I would be drummed out of my life, not trumpeted in. My surety set in motion much of my convoluted activity and caused me great distress. It is high time I listen with eyes open and my reactions leashed; allowing the tune to introduce me to life and lead me to my bliss. Let bad habits run away from home; pack their bags when you can * DON’T BE Don’t be stupid. Don’t be crazy. Don’t be anything out of the ordinary. Don’t be angry. Don’t be hateful. Just don’t be that way. Don’t be sad. Don’t be mopy Smile fore the camera and pretend for everyone. I often wondered why I felt like dyeing And it took me years to understand why, Don’t be = Death. Don’t feel. Don’t cry. Don’t love . Life is about action, presence and content. You’re wrong if you break the rules And dead if you keep them. So please don’t be Them. Look back when you have to But step out of the grave. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 9
Pick up Your Hammer and Saw The task infers the tool. I know this, yet I resist clearly mapping my insanity. I look into the well of my despair then quickly I look away, I fear informing G-d what I need lest the need be filled. I need to believe that a power will heal me, but if I am provided with the force of life, I shrink from the prospect. This too, must be added to the list of my emotional woes and mental shortages. This too, will be healed. I look at my problems and then realize, that like the moon, who pulls the water from dry shore to dry shore, solutions are installed in heaven and earth if I know what the problem is. Experiment, start living a dream * COMFORT AND WILLINGNESS Closer than comfort is willingness. Comfort is at the skin But willingness is under it. I can live without comfort But not without willingness Both are unseen but felt deeply. Willingness drives to the destination And comfort settles me in once there. Comfort is a gift like warmth, Willingness is a gift like breath. I have been tempted to let go of willingness To hold onto comfort. True willingness brings true comfort Never the other way around. No matter where I have to go Willingness will take me there, I hope comfort will follow. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 10
Michal Rovner I have numbered all the blocks in my ancestral walls. This has enabled me to recreate them stone by stone everywhere I go. It all fits to create the tomb I now have to learn to leave. I must change the equation and reorder the numbers allowing these rocks to be recycled and find a wonderful useful life as a stairway out of this pit of despair. What was once an edifice to lives unlived is now able to facilitate elevation, a restoration of a level playing field. It was not wrong for me to catalog the stones and there was no way for me to leave them behind, but nothing matches the satisfaction of using them to build a life, except for the ability to live in it. Take a look at yourself from a distance * THE SEDUCTION OF SOBRIETY I was seduced away from my duties As an alcoholic by the promise of sobriety, Allegiance to my disease was sidelined. Alluring stability and beguiling integrity Curried favor with my desperate heart, Pulling me from the arranged marriage of addiction. How could I cling to the corpse of dependence When sanity shimmered just out of reach, Then not out of reach but within my grasp. I couldn’t resist the golden flicker of life. I had been bound to death Unable to see an alternative. My loyalty to loss and grief slipped from me And I limped into the daylight, Like the widow of the night. I have been lured to my senses By a love like no other, The love of life. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 11
T before S When happiness is hard work I have to learn to look for the lie. There must be a lie for happiness flows unrestrained when not dammed. What was built too far up river for me to see, dries out my once liquid existence; leaving me to flounder in the shallows. I can’t allow myself to flop in the muck of waters muddied with deceit. I will permit myself to look for clear bright prospects from melting glaciers and accustom myself to the invigoration of a life lived under a loving watchful eye. Keep water near by * KILLER SQUIRRELS AND OTHER SOBER DRAMA I can tell you stories to make your hair curl. Death defying fifth steps, Speaking commitments with microphoned podiums, Sponsees with killer squirrels trapped in the house. The courage and sheer determination Needed to face plague, after crisis, after pestilence And yet sober mind and willing heart these travails Are surmounted and we live on. Tears turn to laughter with rescue and remedy How strong we feel as the cape is passed When one time panic prone sponsees Become the model of calm and stable sponsors. Hoards of relatives at holidays, Interaction with bankers, police officers And all manner of people in shiny shoes Are handled with grace and boundaries. Porch loving skunks, children becoming teenagers, Are faced with humor and wit. Things which in years gone by would have sent us screaming To the phone are now casual asides during after meeting discussion. Life does keep spinning on But we learn how to stand still. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 12
Seen on the Street Sometimes graffiti improves a place, other times it degrades it. I now wonder; is this defined by the breaking or breaching of public norms? Or is it built from the intent of the artist/perpetrator? Possibly the pedestrian traffic or the light of day determine the difference between art and recalcitrance. What if all these factors flashing like a neon kaleidoscope facilitated what this all really means? What if it all signifies nothing other than yet another way for me to entertain my brain while avoiding work? I guess I better get back to the spray cans I have a wall to cover. (this was sent to me this morning and I think it goes nicely with this reading) .com/embed/23bA_5yadxs Open your mind to unusual collaboration * THE TEAM The dream sobriety I envision, The fantasy recovery I mentally construct, Blows out to sea as so much mist In the face of actual life. Setting out sports teams, which dont exist Is playful and entertaining. Trying to rebuild the principals of the program Is a delusion I can drink over. Finessing my network and pretending I can put together a team On a basis of specialized talents instead of ground level willingness Is like designing a plane without regard to physics Playing only to esthetics. Anytime I am redesigning I must realize I am no longer participating If I keep my head in the game I can stay away from statistics and stop planning outcomes. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY SHERRIE!!!!!
Thank you for being such an amazing part of my recovery. To know you is to be blessed. http://www.recovery12.co.uk/ekmps/sh...chip-233-p.jpg |
Happy 'Birth'day
Oh my! 26yrs. What a totally amazing achievement.
Thank you so much for being a friend and for being a voice of sober reason when called upon. |
August 13
Phillips Head What’s stuck in makes the thing. What sticks out is all that’s seen. I can tell so much from what is left out, yet there is much I will never know, can never tell. The twist, the give, the opening to variation is known, but never acknowledged. Somehow indecent if spoken or thought of too loudly, insinuation is ignored and society allows us to focus on what is held after or due to this act. We have built the whole world on what we can screw together, but we will merely hallow this, never embrace the fact until it falls apart. Then we exclaim over the rawness of how it caused us to be turned around, the risk and wrongness, ignoring just how much good can come from just a simple screw. Acknowledge rain clouds as puddles on lay-away * MEETING INVENTORY The manicurist at the meeting sits and does her nails. The discussion goes on around her as she files away. Cell phones go off for people Who can’t put their lives on hold for their sobriety. The knitter knits. And the dissenters dissent. The chatting chickens and grumbling grouse All these populate the meeting. It has taken the first half of the hour To take everyone else’s inventory. I have the remaining thirty to take my own. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 13
Difficult people “By giving unconditional love... we become more loving, and by sharing spiritual growth we become more spiritual.” Basic Text, p.103 ––––=–––– Most of us have one or two exceptionally difficult people in our lives. How do we deal with such a person in our recovery? First, we take our own inventory. Have we wronged this person? Has some action or attitude of ours served as an invitation for the kind of treatment they have given us? If so, we will want to clear the air, admit we have been wrong, and ask our Higher Power to remove whatever defects may prevent us from being helpful and constructive. Next, as people seeking to live spiritually oriented lives, we approach the problem from the other person’s point of view. They may be faced with any number of challenges we either fail to consider or know nothing about, challenges that cause them to be unpleasant. As it’s said, we seek in recovery “to forgive rather than be forgiven; to understand rather than be understood.” Finally, if it is within our power, we seek ways to help others overcome their challenges without injuring their dignity. We pray for their well-being and spiritual growth and for the ability to offer them the unconditional love that has meant so much to us in our recovery. We cannot change the difficult people in our lives, nor can we please everyone. But by applying the spiritual principles we’ve learned in NA, we can learn to love them. ––––=–––– Just for today: Higher Power, help me serve other people, not demand that they serve me. Copyright © 1991-2013 by Narcotics Anonymous World Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved |
August 14
Participant Observer Underneath it all I am more than naked; I am hidden by exposure. My body can never be as nude as life with you in my thoughts. My mind is a polygraph you wander through. I have determined this is more than safe and unlock the closets. You are not my warden looking for contraband, nor the janitor looking for trash, you are here; you are my friend having a better look around simply to know me better and to love me well. Your unfamiliar stride is exciting, I show off the places I long for you to see and stand aside from the rest; it is all yours to look through. I do not resist. You are my peaceful guardian; I am your willing charge. Sit with impatience and sooth it * CAMPAIGN Sobriety is the Santa Clause that brings delightful gifts Which make me smile. Recovery is the Gene Which comes from staying out of bottles. The Jin makes treasure possible But doesn’t bring it to the door. The ads and billboards of illusion built a world of booze But no hope for a real life. I have learned to turn from all the lies of picking up And live in the possibilities which open Only when I put down the drink and the thinking. I don’t need to pin up stockings Or rub lamps, just take direction And make willingness my campaign. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 15
The Dark Fantastic When the tornado touches down worry ends; the anticipation is over and thought stops. Tragedy is funny that way. In the aftermath I find out what mattered and what didn’t; whether I have helped or injured myself trying to plan for the worst. I fail to realize there are cloud filled days when nothing happens and days when trouble comes from out of the blue. What matters ultimately is if I was happy yesterday all the way into today until the thunder struck. Greed is not: living for today; greed is my attempt at gathering the future while dragging the past. Compel your brilliance to shine * AUTUMN The falling leaves slap my hand As I ride the road at fifty mile per My arm dangling. Exposed they stand stark, Stripped naked to the soul. The growth of this years yearnings on the fringe. I can follow this lead Remove pretence not clothing Stand before all who have an interest in seeing me. Unashamed of my wants and the things I reach for I can cast off the uniform of evolution And enjoy a long winter of truth. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 16
Single Serving Sterling When the menu of life feels vast I must focus on my teaspoon; a simple tool that fits well in my hand, whose use I well understand. The possibilities conceived when I ponder the intangibles conspire to suck me down the rabbit-hole where all that’s left to me is a drug. When I come back to stir my tea and lick the spoon clean the world revolves around me and without need of my completed unified theory. Need looms, loss stacks, salvation keeps a steady distance, my only hope is to drink my tea, I shan’t even sharpen my spoon; I can and need to stay out of my fear built prison and off the streets of hell. My task is at hand and the size of the scoop is a reminder to take all of life in small doses. Treat hope as a living thing; feed its hunger, quench its thirst * NATURAL LAW Gravity is always in effect But invoke the laws of lift And you can make a stone fly. I have no gills But strap on a tank and rebreather And I can share space with the sharks. Given enough willingness and step work I can walk through the world sober Though every cell of my body is alcoholic. The laws of nature are fluid When I flow with them I can keep my goals. Instant gratification is often my stumbling block. Gaining access to my far-flung desires Is not impossible But it is also not immediate. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
August 17
Go where it’s warm The intangible rightness of cohesion is difficult to explain. What is it that makes a group congregating into a congregation? What makes a rag tag tousle into a home group? It is the thing I yearn for, but dare not chase. I know this too makes a grub into a butterfly, yet private transformation seems necessary, where the change of masses is gratuitous. A thousand geese fly overhead; arrows of individual miracles, pointing the way to the meaning of it all. Score your rhythm so you can reflect the music of your soul * THE DREAMER What about the dreamer? What about her, responds my sponsor. You ask me about her like I was the one Who pushed her off the cliff. Are you saying I pushed her, I questioned my sponsor. Yes, that is just what I am saying. Do you need me to sing it? You wanted the dreamer to fly off, To safety and happiness And wanted her to take you with her. In an attempt to grab hold of her ankles And propel her to heaven You threw her off the precipice. Now she is broken and bleeding Far from your sight Your dreamer is damaged And you ask about her? Do you want to know what you did And how to remedy it Or were you looking to duck responsibility? QUACK------ You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
Hi All,
I've strayed from this thread in an active time in a time of compulsive overeating, and have not really been back for awhile. I'm back and recommitted to my program. I became abstinent again when I crossed the Minnesota border at 1:30 AM on Tuesday, August 13th. No more sugar, grains or dairy (except cream in my coffee, and no more diet soda for now. I feel good. I was the speaker at my OA meeting for the first time ever today. I told my story of recovery, relapse and the beginning of my recovery again. It was well recieved and I got a ton of positive feedback. Congratulations Sherrie, on your 26 years of sobriety, that is something to be proud of and grateful for. Thank you for always being here, I know I can come back at anytime, and feel good by reading the words here. |
Denial / Dissociative Identity Disorder
Hi Al Anon was my home for many years. I rarely have a babysitter and I miss those meetings. 12th step meetings are few and far between in the UK unfortunately. My membership there was always a little skewy if that's the right word because my family was affected more by mental illness than by alcohol. There were alcohol and drug addictions too but the mental problems preceded the addictions and were at the crux of it all IMO.
I have a concern about Dissociative Identity Disorder and I wonder if there are any 12th steppers out there who either have DID themselves or have experience of loving someone who has. If so I would be really grateful if you would PM me and if you would share your experience strength and hope on this with me. Or if you know of any online resources. I have questions about denial in DID, what it feels like, what awareness IS there about it, and what happened that led to a breakthrough. Thank you. Peace and Love in the programme xo |
August 18
Blind Man’s Bluff Turning your head to see doesn’t help when you have a blind eye. All the rotation in the world won’t restore your sight. Addressing life problems with a solution involving spin is counter productive and sometimes counter clockwise to boot. If I find I just can’t see, then maybe it’s time to listen better and compensate for my shortcoming through some other action. Turning away doesn’t help and walking away is worse. When I am blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other stepping up to the plate may not be an option, but I still need to find a way to stay in the game. Molt bad ideas * PUBLIC PRIVACY My public privacy is protected By my smile not my scowl. Maintaining boundaries as I travel The common areas of life Is more readily accomplished By a pleasant demeanor than a dark stare. I have used negative attitude And found myself outside of my own protection. The buoyancy of my manner keeps surface tension A natural and acceptable reality. Hooded behavior drags every interaction Into suspicion. When I make part of my business To put others at ease It is easier for me to preserve My business as my own. You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault |
Hey peachy, welcome, sorry I can't help with anything related to the mental illness you speak of.
Where in the UK are you. I know there's Al-anon meetings all over the place. Not as many as AA and NA but nonetheless they are there. Have you looked into online Al-anon meetings? http://www.al-anonuk.org.uk/meetings/ |
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