At the kitchen table sits me, two placemats, three bananas,
and my phone. There are other things on the table, but their view is obstructed
by my laptop computer. Just beyond the table is the larger of the two sets of
kitchen windows through which I can see the two girls playing happily with the
two girls who live directly across the street from us in what appears to be a
mansion. We have not yet been inside, but we are developing a rapport with the
owners as well as many others in this neighborhood.
This is a quiet street, in a quiet town. I haven’t seen a
car drive by since I started crafting this post five minutes ago. This is our
house, in our neighborhood. This is our town. (It still brings me joy to say
little things like that.)
The girls have adapted quite well and have made friends in
every direction. At this moment there are four children roaming around this house playing various games. They will leave, and come back, but I don't worry much about keeping a constant eye on them like I would in a bigger city, but most of the time I can see them right out the front window if they aren't inside. The adults have also been coping well with the stressors of
owning a new home. We have two rooms left to unpack, but they are quarters in
which we will not spend much time, so they will be gotten to at our leisure,
but before we host our series of housewarming events. (If you know me well
enough to have been invited to such an occasion and have not been, first check
your Facebook invites, then contact me directly as I am a little scatterbrained
these days.)
My recovery has been largely phone-based these days as it
has become harder to regularly attend meetings. Next week, however, I will be
going to the in-town gathering for people like me, and the plan is to go every
week and continue my work over the phone with my sponsor and meet whenever
possible. I am in a good spot in my life, and I know how I got there. This is
not the time to give up my work in the program; this is the time to be more
involved. When I become a regular at this new meeting I can get back into service
work, which can include so many things in and out of meetings. In my previous home
group, I volunteered to be the chair, the 7th tradition rep,
fellowship rep, sponsorship coordinator, and many other positions vital to the
flow of a good meeting. I didn’t do all of these at the same time, of course, I
would hold one position for a period of 13 weeks as we cycled through the steps
and ended on gratitude week. This all makes little sense to somebody not in
recovery, but to those that are; you know what I’m saying.
Service work is one of a few ways to get people to commit to
coming to a meeting every week. For me it worked in combination with a few
other things like going out after a meeting and working with others in the
book. I needed a combination in the beginning to keep me going for years. I
still like meetings, and I really like the inner workings and would someday
like to serve up a little higher at the district level to give me some more
responsibility: more reason to keep going back.
What is the result of doing all of these things? Well, that’s
what I’ve been writing about for years. Those who have read from the beginning
have seen me struggle, fail, and succeed. As I look back over some of my older
posts, I see a number of positive steps that at the time I saw as failures.
Nobody ever learned life lessons with a smile on their face, and most people
don’t know at the time that a lesson is being taught. I have the privilege of
looking back over the past four years of my life (I can’t believe it’s been
almost four years since I walked into that steel cage,) and seeing what a
transformation my life has undergone. From sleeping in cars, to sleeping on a
plastic mat in prison, to living with my mom (whom I love dearly), to this: a
fucking house. And it isn’t just the fact that I’m in a house, it’s that I can
afford to be here (with equal help of course from my gf.) The bills pile up and
it doesn’t worry me; we can afford them. The first mortgage payment has been
paid and I still have money. My car has gas in it and so does my lawnmower.
Life on this side is good. I wish I would have discovered
this way of life 20 years ago, but then I wouldn’t have built up all of this
character, and been able to share this story with my family and friends and
those still struggling with addiction that need to know that recovery works.
The result of working a solid program will always be the same: you will love
your life. This program of recovery works... If you work it.
