Escaping Reality...Never!

The gifts of acceptance

The winter cold finally seeped into my bones and lungs. I can't recall the last time I was ill (excluding detox, of course). Maybe I've had a few sniffles or a mild sore throat, but nothing severe enough to stop me from working. We had been considering last-minute trips south, but not only did I come down with double pneumonia, Joanne also suffered from bronchitis for the third year in a row. The trip would have to be postponed... for now, at least.

Sick was to say the least for me. For an extended period of approximately two weeks, I found myself engulfed in an overwhelming fatigue that seemed to drain every ounce of energy from my body. I have never experienced such a profound sense of exhaustion before; it was as if my body was demanding an extended period of rest and recovery that I simply could not ignore. Each day became a relentless cycle of waking up just long enough to make it to work, completing the necessary tasks that were expected of me, and then retreating back home to collapse into bed once again. The simple act of getting through the day felt like an insurmountable challenge, and I often found myself longing for the comfort of sleep rather than engaging with the world around me. Unfortunately, this sickness even kept me from attending crucial meetings, which for someone like me, who values connection and community, was absolutely horrible. The meetings had always been a cornerstone of my routine, a space where I found solace and understanding among others who shared similar experiences. Missing them felt like a void in my life, a disconnection from the very support system that had helped me navigate through difficult times in the past. With that being said, however, this period of illness turned out to be a moment of unexpected clarity. It forced me to reflect deeply on my commitment and the dedication I have shown over the last year. I realized that my involvement was not just a matter of going through the motions or fulfilling obligations to appease those around me. It was a stark contrast to the days of old, when I attended meetings merely to avoid disappointing others or to fit in with societal expectations. This time, I genuinely felt a profound sense of longing for everything about the time I spent in the rooms. I missed the people—the camaraderie and companionship of others who understood my struggles and triumphs. I longed for the discussions that sparked new insights, the moments of active listening that fostered deeper connections, and the invaluable lessons learned through shared experiences. Ultimately, I can say that I was in a state of withdrawal. This realization led me to surmise that this is indeed the very essence of the program; it becomes a part of us. It intertwines itself with our identities, shaping who we are and how we navigate our lives. Reality. After all, this simple yet profound program saved my life. It has provided me with tools, insights, and a community that I cannot imagine living without. Each meeting, each conversation, and each moment of shared understanding has woven itself into the fabric of my existence, reminding me that I am never truly alone in my journey.

I took my wife's advice and visited the doctor, and unsurprisingly, I began to heal gradually. Who would have thought? By stepping outside my own thoughts and setting aside my ego, things improved. Joanne was also recovering, and we decided that a getaway from the routine of everyday life would be perfect for reflection, rejuvenation, and reconnecting with each other. We booked our little escape on Thursday, stopped in Guelph to enjoy some quality time with my son and parents, and by Sunday at 10 am, we were on a plane heading to the sunny south. I believe I packed everything I needed. What I definitely had with me was a reminder of hard work, dedication, and a connection to a higher power. In my right pant pocket, a small, seemingly insignificant piece of metal held great significance and accompanied me on my journey (as it does every day). Here we come, escaping from 'reality'.

Perhaps you can't imagine, but now ; before me was a test. It stared me straight in the eyes and I stood staring straight back. A different feeling however washed over me. At home, the obsession of my old friend had been taken from me (through a lot of prayer, reflection and of course the Church basements). Here we were on this beautiful resort where the alcohol flowed like water from our taps. Where the norm was to get up, enjoy the sun and surroundings with a drink in hand by 10 (a little late in my past life). Gosh by ten, the feelings of unworthiness, unsatisfaction, fear and resentment would be masked by drink after drink and I would not have a care in the world, including the feelings of anyone around me; even the most important of people. We were led to our beautiful room and naturally explored its contents and surroundings. Yes, I did. I opened the fridge, but this time something was different. I saw the water; both still and sparkling... perfect. I noticed the soda. Wonderful, Joanne will enjoy that in the evening. Just like that, I closed the door. I stood there, reflecting. I hadn't even noticed. I opened it again. Yes, there were also a couple of beers and the small 'airplane' bottles that, in the past, would have disappeared as soon as I saw them, of course, secretly. "Hey Jo!" Like any supportive partner of an alcoholic (especially one who had suffered the debilitating hold of the disease), she came to me and asked if I was bothered, if I was okay, or if this would be a problem. I hugged her, then pulled back and said, "What an amazing feeling." Although we had escaped 'reality,' at that moment, I felt the same as I did at home. The desire was absent. The scheming and planning that once consumed every aspect of my days, especially those spent at resorts and away from home, were no longer in my thoughts. It was a testament to a Power greater than myself and, once again, to the support groups.

Over the course of the next number of days, I found myself (quietly and unsuspectedly) engaged in the process of 'escaping from reality.' This phrase took on a profound significance as I quietly immersed myself in a period of reflection and introspection. Moment lying in the loungers, cuddled up in the comfort of bed, or sitting in restaurants while diligently investigating my surroundings contributed to this exploration of my inner self. Most notably, it was during those serene moments floating in the ocean, that reality began to reveal itself in ways I had never anticipated.

In this idyllic setting, far removed from the biting cold and the relentless monotony of our daily routines, I found a unique sense of freedom. It was a liberating experience to be away from the expectations and norms that typically govern our lives, especially during the cold, bleak winter months. Yet, amidst this temporary escape, I was reminded of a profound realization that would anchor me: the one reality I can never truly 'escape' from is the fact that I am an alcoholic.

To some, this acknowledgment might appear to be a source of despair or sadness; however, for someone like me, it represents the most liberating truth I could ever embrace. The reality of being an alcoholic is not merely a label; it is a cornerstone of my identity that keeps me grounded and aligned with my values. This understanding compels me to confront my past, acknowledge my struggles, and appreciate the journey I have undertaken. As long as I remain cognizant of my identity as an alcoholic and what this truly means for me—today, a grateful alcoholic—I find myself in a state of profound freedom.

Freedom

This freedom does not come without its challenges. It requires constant vigilance and a commitment to self-awareness. Yet, it is precisely this commitment that empowers me to navigate the complexities of life with clarity and purpose. Embracing the reality of my alcoholism allows me to build a life that is rich with meaning and authenticity, free from the shackles of denial and the burdens of addiction. I have learned that acknowledging this part of myself is not a weakness but rather a source of strength, fueling my desire to live fully and honestly.

In essence, my journey of reflection during those days away from the cold and the routine has illuminated the importance of acceptance. The acceptance of my reality as an alcoholic is a guiding light, reminding me that I am not defined by my struggles but rather by my resilience and ability to rise above them. This perspective fosters gratitude for the present moment and instills a sense of hope for the future. I have come to understand that the path of recovery is not a destination but a continuous journey, one that I am committed to navigating with grace and determination.