Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

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

[LeftWriteFemme]

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

[LeftWriteFemme]

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

[nanners]

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.

[peachy]

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

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/

[Mopsie]

Nanners - Thank you for posting this!

I have been exploring the idea of Overeaters Anonymous for a few weeks. I wasn't sure if it was okay to post in this thread or not, but I also didn't see a separate OA thread.

I'm not ready to go to a meeting yet - that scares me. I have done some reading online and ordered a couple books. I am more of an ease in slowly person vs a jump in the deep end person.

Thanks for sharing it's nice to know I'm not alone!

Originally Posted by nanners

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.

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 19


Endlessly Moving Maps

I try to survive by memorizing the chaos. I do well up to five layers deep and then lose it, as the details become too great. I am staking my life on my ability to track the patterns in a storm while at the same time treading water. I think this skill kept life and breathe in me for many years, but now I fear I’ll drown in this roiling mass. I must touch down my tender toes and learn to walk this twisting path and keep a pace with this spinning world. Everything moves and I am overwhelmed. I have forgotten my flesh and blood nature; have mistaken myself for a stone, one which dare not roll, one which has no part in this endlessly moving map.


Be honest with your toes

*

SATISFACTION

Satisfaction is like a marble in my pocket.
Formed when correctness was still red hot
And my sponsor rolled my mind until I was whole.

I sigh and square my shoulders
I know I am up to any task.
I am skilled with my tools and know well the talents
Of my intimates and helpmates.

I am not invincible but I am capable.
I value who and what I am today.
I sleep the sleep of a person
Not a hostage or captor, I am me.

I have a marble in my pocket
And it reminds me of the world.
I have a world within me
Knowing how to live with that
Is a great satisfaction.


You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

[LeftWriteFemme]

August 20


Dewy, Cheatum & Howe

I must radically sever the close connection I have with self-seeking, self-pity and dishonesty. What will I use to pay the retainer for the representation I will need to pursue this divorce? Willingness is the earnest money, which will start the ball rolling, hard work pitches in its share and faith pays the note each day I apply it. All this and more is what it takes to divide the endless stream of my compulsive thought into a survivable days worth of life. I have the prospect of being happy as a divorcee or I could be a miserable widow if I stay wed to my disease.


Try not to be the exception to everything

*

PROMISE BROKEN

If promise shatters without anyone touching it,
If it pops like a floating soap bubble that lost cohesion,
What do I do--name names--I can’t even take fingerprints.

Sometimes dreams just end--no fault or blame is attached.
The ice breaks under its own weight
And nothing can be done.

I am more than just holding on.
I am alive even if all the promises melt away.
I can accept the unexpected and unasked for.

I know this doesn’t affect my worth.
My value is intact regardless of disappointment or discontent.
I have learned that anticipation is mere amusement.
Promises are pleasantries
.
I am made of stronger stuff.
I am not broken by words, ideas or hope.
Promise can be broken
But it doesn’t break me.

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 3


Where’s Your Chair?

Is the ring more unnatural for the tamer or the lion? One the trapped, the other the trapper. Who is the more in danger; the one with loss of freedom or the one with possible loss of life? And while this question is still in play the next question is begged. Why is there a ring? What is worth the price paid by the whip holder or the whipped? Spectacle is a thing whose cost reaches from the forest to the trees; can take you from the highest rung down to your knees. All this lost for some Owwe’s and Ah’s from people needing diversion from the ring they turn tricks in.


Refuse delivery of bad acts
*

HOW EVER YOU CAN

I heard --Let go with love.
You know how to do that? Asked my sponsor.
No that’s why I’m here to see you,
But it sure sounds like something I should do.

Well in a perfect world maybe we can all do it that way.
But for now let go with a mean look in your eye.
Let go with rage in your heart.
Let go with words boiling on you tongue.

Let go with the butter knife up to its hilt in the jelly jar.
Let go standing at the sink wishing for some other life.
Let go as a reflex
Let go as an anthem, as a prayer, as a declaration.

Let go even when you don’t feel you are holding on anymore.
At the same time-hold on to what’s important---
Your recovery---Your Higher Power, and your sense of humor.

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

[LeftWriteFemme]

September 4


The Naked Not the Dead

Because comfort is sometimes no comfort I can shave my hair and walk bare in the naked world. Removing pretense helps in unexpected ways. Foolish action becomes formulaic when you are scared or hurt. I lived through the summers of blood; the winter is not enough to stem the tide or heal the wound. I have no want to raise the dead, but how to save the living? Poverty is the inheritance of so much misguided lethargy and I must shear off the illusion of maturity and let the children speak.


Bury pettiness in an unmarked grave

*
WHINING BRATS

Some days whining brats come at me from all directions
And my hair won’t curl,
Apathy chases me around the house.

I wonder how it has more energy than I do.
My mind twists into a wrinkled mess
I drag my good foot and hop on the bad one.

And even on those days I still rather be me.
I never long to be the innocent victim
Or spiritual leader, the tough guy or the Ph D.

No matter how bad it gets
Or what the struggle is
There is no place sweeter than in my head.

Many are the days I wished not to exist at all
But never to shuck my skin
for the skin of another.
.
Now that I manage breathe right
And to face each day with cheer
I know it was almost worth it
And might be worth it yet.

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

[LeftWriteFemme]

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