I mentioned Monday that I’ve hit a wall in my recovery program. Last night I decided some changes are in order.
Making changes is a bitch. It’s almost like admitting failure. I haven’t failed on the big things. I’ve held on to my abstinence and sobriety. But in a lot of areas I’ve gotten sloppy.
A collection of tiny failures can add up.
I’ve gotten bored with my current plan, and as I’ve said before, boredom is poison for the addictive personality.
Boredom means the mind is free to start spinning. I feel uneasy and can’t settle on anything. Then I’m in the kitchen, looking through the cabinets.
I see a bottle of gin and consider taking a swig. If I do, surely no one will ever know. I see cupcakes Erin baked for the kids. Surely no one will notice if one goes missing. Or two. Or five. For about 20 minutes, I’m standing there seriously thinking about breaking both my abstinence from binge eating and my sobriety. Erin doesn’t have to know. My OA sponsor doesn’t have to know.
Then I come to my senses and leave the kitchen. Instead of doing what I used to do all the time, I make a couple calls to fellow addicts in recovery, take a shower and go to bed.
But if I let the boredom stick around for too long, one of these days I’ll be in a similar scenario, standing in the kitchen, and things won’t end as well as they did before.
I don’t want that.
So I’m pounding the reset button. Changes have to be made in the food plan. I might need to change sponsors, even though I love mine to death. I just need a fresh perspective.
I might have to stop sponsoring other people for awhile. I don’t feel right telling other people how to manage their recovery if my own recovery needs work.
Admitting that I have to do something is liberating. I feel a weight starting to lift off my shoulders.
It always feels better to be honest with yourself, because lies weigh you down.
For those who might worry about me over this, don’t. It’s all good.
As anyone with long-term sobriety and abstinence will tell you, changes are always necessary from time to time. It’s like an oil change for the car.
This is a process I’m supposed to go through. And I get to go through it without having a full-blown relapse, which is mighty lucky of me.
The reset starts in 45 minutes, when I talk to my sponsor.