Here we be. Step Two again. "We came to believe a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." "We believe we must turn elsewhere for help". "There might be away out of this fucking mess." pick your version. Right now. I'm on the "there might be a way out of this fucking mess" version. Almost exactly one month ago I lost the love of my life. Both of us struggling with addiction issues, both of us clean, both of us finally on the right track in life and then suddenly he's swept away. And here's me, trying to maintain sobriety in the face of an overwhelming mass of grief. Good. Lord. It's like starting all over again. Initially there's withdrawal. I puked my guts up. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. There's so much pain. Every cell in your body is screaming. I was sad. I was angry. I felt every emotion a person could feel. And in that moment, just like in actual withdrawal, using seemed like the best option, because dear God please I just want to get this sickness off me. But I chose to keep throwing my guts up and sweating it out and sobbing. And I fell back in looking at the 12 Steps. Step one is all about accepting powerlessness. Alright. Here's me. Powerless over the fact that God took the person who matters most away from me. I wish I could have been angry but I wasn't which was weird. I wasn't angry at God. I wasn't angry at my love. I don't even think I was angry. I was sad and miserable and so fucking lonely. And I was powerless. And I think I fought that for a while. I think I wanted to try to find some power in the situation and I can't. I can't control it. I can only control myself which by the way, sucked the first time I ever did step one, still sucks now even if the situation is different. I'm pretty sure it will always suck. And then this weekend, I went to church. I'm not particularly the religious type. I have a higher power sure, but sometimes that higher power has just been the will to live, which right now I definitely don't have. So I figured why not try the old one two Lord thing that I've put off for a bit. And after going, after sitting with friends and just talking. Talking about my love, my life, my grief, crying through an entire fucking service like a giant baby, I realized I'd hit step two. Maybe there's a way out of this fucking mess. I don't know what that is yet. This is the bare beginnings of step two. Maybe there's a way to get out of this grief. Maybe a light exists at the end of the tunnel. I can't see the light yet, but I think I'm starting to have faith that it exists. Maybe in another 30 days I'll actually see the light vs just trying to believe that it has to be there somewhere, even when I can't see it. I'm probably going to blog through this round of 12 steps as far as grief goes. But I think just like we say in the rooms too, the best thing I can do right now is just keep showing up. And so far, that's what I have to keep doing, just keep showing up.
Just a girl trying to get through her recovery process with the love of a million dogs.