Wednesday, September 18, 2013

 A good place to start


 A warm hello, whoever you are, and thanks for taking the time to see what this blog, and me, are all about.

 By way of introduction, I'm a relatively new empty-nester who's not old enough to retire but can't wait to hear the laughter of grandchildren and be one of the sparks that ignites their joy, curiosity and wonder.
 I'm a journalist, an avid (make that rabid) reader and a lover of trees and of wild creatures and places and the smell of wet earth in the mountains of Colorado and my own offbeat prairie garden.
 I find peace and comfort in the night sky and the sound of water rushing over and around pebbles, rocks and boulders that are billions of years old.
 I'm an enthusiastic but technically challenged amateur photographer. And I am a recovering alcoholic.
 I'm at a point in my life where my priorities, my roles, my dreams and even my idea of who I am (and want to be) are in tremendous flux. 
 But no matter who I am or what else I become or accomplish, I will always be an alcoholic. Growing in recovery will forever be a central focus of my life, and a critical component of recovery is sharing the gifts I've been given with others who find themselves where I was nearly 15 years ago.
 For most of those years, I've been writing a book in my head about and for women in recovery. I envision an anthology of stories about some of my favorite sisters in sobriety - those who've helped me the most along my journey, as well as my own account of slowly losing myself to alcohol before learning that I really didn't have to live that way anymore, or risk dying that way.
 But I'm an expert at procrastination and self-sabotage, and I have little time, knowledge (or energy or real interest) in researching the dizzying world of publishing and agents and editors.
 So I'm launching this blog in hopes of getting those stories out now, little by little, while also training myself to write regularly with no deadlines or distractions regarding the "business" of getting it done. It's been a long time since I've had the freedom, time and desire to write much outside of work.
 While I risk the inevitable consequences of having no editors checking my work or holding deadlines over my head, I believe the blog-instead-of-a-book will feel more fully free (and less fearful) about being fully honest, more apt to focus more on the facts than the prose, and less obsessed about whether I "fail" or "succeed" in the marketplace.
 Either way, it's not about money or fame or even being "legitimately" published. (As a newspaper journalist at a daily newspaper, I resisted blogs for a long time because so many are poorly written, uninformed or inflammatory, not to mention that bloggers are among mainstream journalism's most pressing competitors in today's market).
  But having become the fan of a few, and seeing how quickly good ones can reach their targeted audience, this route simply makes sense as a quick way to connect with women who need to know there is hope for living a joyful life - and that they're not alone in their pain and they don't have to be alone in their healing.
 If you're reading this, you may already have devoured the countless books by or about addicted and recovering celebrities. I've read most of them, too, and enjoyed some of them. But beyond the shared pain of living in the disease of alcoholism, I found little that resonated with me. I hope to offer you something more.
 For the rich and famous, it's almost fashionable to be addicted and/or in treatment or recovery. And the public, thanks (or maybe not) to reality TV and the entertainment world's seeming obsession with troubled celebrities, our society may be a bit more enlightened and compassionate today than when I got sober, at least regarding their heroes and heroines.
 Despite shifting attitudes and growing awareness though, there remains a stigma around alcoholism and other addictions that often is applied more harshly to women than men, and even more harshly if we're mothers, too.
 I believe that stigma prevents too many people from seeking help until they simply have no choice. Get sober, or lose your kids. Or your house, your husband, your job, your life.
 So I offer you the stories of real women - teachers, doctors and nurses, soccer moms, bikers, therapists, beauties, teenagers and grandmothers, anarchists and artists and everything in between.
 We are women who normally wouldn't choose each other as friends because of our external differences. We mostly disregard those, and are bound by our similarities instead.     Chief among those are the holes in our souls that alcohol simply can't fill or fix. And you can find women just like us anywhere in the world if you're willing to look for us.
 I have no doubt you'll see something of yourself and your story in many of theirs.
 I met these women in Alcoholics Anonymous and they are among my closest friends. Their candor, their ability to laugh at themselves or to cry and be vulnerable - and their commitment to their own sobriety and mine - gave me a sliver of hope when I had reached the point that I knew I could no longer live with alcohol yet couldn't imagine life without it, let alone fathom how to build such a life.
 Slowly, they convinced me that I could regain my sanity, my dignity and my self-respect while healing my body, my heart and my soul. And they helped me every step of the way.
 I hope their stories can help you do the same, or at least convince you that you're worth saving - and that not just sobriety, but happiness, is more than a possibility.
 If you are living in silent desperation and denial about a deadly disease that often destroys families before it destroys us, come along and get to know us.
 We all are grateful to be alcoholics because recovery has led us to lives we never could have imagined and spirituality that is much richer, deeper and meaningful than what any of us grew up believing (or not). Yet few of us share the same "God."
 AA doesn't tell us what to believe, or who or what to believe in. It simply suggests that we open our hearts to the possibility of a power higher than ourselves that will guide us back to ourselves if we are willing to ask for and accept help.
 I'm writing anonymously (as I will if I eventually write a book) because anonymity is the spiritual foundation of AA. While intended in part to protect newcomers who are afraid of being "found out," anonymity also encourages humility.
 Alcoholism doesn't care who you are or what you do for a living or what kind of house or car you have, and neither do members of AA.
 We're all equals who are committed to maintaining our own recovery by helping others to find and hold on to sobriety. Most of my closest friends are fellow AA members. I've known many of them for nearly 15 years, yet I don't know some of their last names.
 I promise you this blog is not a vehicle for promoting AA - an effort that would violate another of the program's principals. 
 There are other ways to sobriety, but AA (along with a lot of good therapy and spiritual exploration and practice) is how I found it and how I hold on to it, so it's what I have to offer.
 Remaining anonymous also will allow me to protect the identities and privacy of family members and friends while protecting myself from a few difficult people who could create endless chaos if they were identified.
 Although I'll offer periodic explanations of some aspects of AA that seem confusing or mysterious to those who aren't acquainted with the program, and others that are widely misunderstood, my intent is simply to encourage you to seek help getting sane and sober if you believe you're an alcoholic. 
 Talk to your doctor, a therapist, pastor or someone else you trust. Get yourself into a treatment program if you can.
 I don't know anyone who's gotten sober alone except for a few who died trying.
 I'm undecided about whether to open Living Out Loud to comments and questions, mostly because I don't want to create a forum for readers to bash each other (or me) over differing opinions about the many aspects of AA and other spiritual programs for recovery. Nor do I care to be a referee or be perceived as any kind of expert.
 All I can offer is my own experience, strength and hope alongside the same from some of the most interesting, elegant, and wise women you could hope to meet anywhere.
 If you'd like to contact me privately, please do so at rettabugz@gmail.com.