A New Direction

Sometimes writing something really sticks with me and that happened this past week. I wrote that I needed to stop trying to catch up with who I was before I went away and start being who I am today. I was reminded just yesterday, that's what living one day at a time is all about. Perhaps since my prison release, I've actually been failing in my own recovery beliefs and so caught up in it, I didn't even realize it.

This is why recovery is a journey and a lifelong act. No matter how long we are clean and/or sober, there is always work we can be doing on ourselves. No one can force this on us, we need to see it for ourselves and want to do the work.

So, what does being who I am today mean? Well, I still want to be a professor and I'm proud to be going into criminal justice. However, I'm going to stop being sad that I am spending time in Master's courses, because that is obviously where I need to be right now in order to learn what I need to know. I start the new application into the official doctoral program this week and two of my professors from this semester are writing me letters of support. My other letters of recommendation are coming from my former fellowship supervisor and my undergraduate professor/mentor. I know it will be a strong application. I will start writing my personal statement this week.

My next thing is to manage my time better. I've spent way too much time running around chasing my past. I need time with family and friends and much more time by myself. I need time to workout and to try to get back into shape. I learned in prison to wake up earlier, so I should take advantage of mornings and make sure I get a good night's sleep.

I need to plan out my studying like a job. No more cramming and late nights. I'm not 20-something. I've been too hard on my body since getting out of prison. Pushing it to far. I need to be kinder to myself. I need a study schedule that I stick to that is a priority that not only I respect, but that Sporty and T.S. know and therefore can respect as well- like another job. I'm working toward a PhD- very important.

I need to schedule in some time for friends, card writing, and just keeping in touch. I know the importance of letters and cards and phone calls and it's my turn to pay it forward. I need to schedule that in as well. 

I'm not calling this a New Years resolution, it's what I am doing because I need to do it for me! This is who I am today. It's a little different than who I was before I went away. Prison changes us. We don't know all the ways and I'll write about some of that later. For now, I just needed to reflect on how I need to let me be me now, and stop trying to be me then.

Going for a Drive

Tonight, Sporty and I decided to take a short road trip to a Gambler's Anonymous meeting about an hour and a half away from where we live. We'd heard that the meeting struggled with having regulars, and knew that the secretary of the meeting was trying very hard, so we wanted to show support. Plus, it's always a good thing to go to another meeting.

We arrived just on time, and wouldn't you know it - it was the largest meeting since their start just over a year ago. About 14 people in attendance, with clean times from less than a week to one and half years (other than Sporty and I with 6 1/2 yrs each). It was a great, well-run meeting. They were still trying to get through everything within an hour, which was not possible with so many people having just relapsed and a newbie in the room, so it got extended. I'm glad that most the meetings I attend back home have no general time limit - it's about giving everyone a chance to talk - usually for about 5 minutes each. In this region, some meetings limit people to 30 seconds or a minute. Sometimes, that is just not enough time for someone struggling with something.

I really did like tonight's meeting. The people were so warm and inviting to Sporty and I as well. I remember when I was new in the program and someone with a lot of time would be in the room (I'm talking 15, 20, or even 30+ years). I would look at them and just wonder how on earth they did it. I couldn't imagine a day without gambling and how my life could ever come together again, and here they were with a real life that no longer included gambling, yet they were still at the meetings - sharing their experience, strength and hope. At 6 1/2 years, my experience does not come close to what was offered by so many in the rooms I experienced, however tonight, Sporty and I were seen as those people in a room where only 1 person had more than 6 months clean. One person said to Sporty that she wished she could be as strong as she is - we both told her that she can be - one day at a time. Not so long ago, we, too, felt so weak.

I'm trying hard to reflect on this and also respect the tenants of the program - "who you see here, what you hear here, when you leave here, let it stay here..." such important words that I believe in SOOO very much. We also believe in anonymity for the program's sake - Step 11 of the Unity program states, "our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, films, television, and Internet." I suppose I have a aura of personal anonymity - but not really. I choose to be open and out about being in GA and sharing my story of how it has helped me become a much better person. I get that I shouldn't be pulling people out of casinos and forcing them into meetings (it wouldn't work - you have to want help), but if people don't know about success stories, why would they want to join? AA has millions of success stories that people know about. People don't know about gambling addiction that much.

I just saw a movie preview for "The Gambler" movie that is being released this week. It looks like another movie that will make the life of a compulsive gambler look like it's always connected to the mob, fighting, the underground, highest of stakes, etc. It's like a glorification and hitting bottom at it's worst. For all of us in the GA rooms, we are just regular joe shmoes. I've known a few with connections to bookies and the mob, but not many. Most were losing their paychecks. Most were never beat up - other than beating themselves up after a big loss. They lost their houses, their families, and their jobs, but the majority never looked at the end of the barrel of a gun, unless it was their own and they were thinking of suicide. Hollywood knows nothing of the real life of a compulsive gambler. A compulsive gambler struggled to pay the toll on the way home from the casino, because they literally spent their last penny in the casino. A compulsive gambler wrecks their brain trying to come up with a story to explain to their spouse on why they are walking in the house at 3am again, when they said they were running out for some groceries, but ended up at a casino for six hours and didn't dare answer their phone. A compulsive gambler stares at a pile of bills on their table that they know they can't pay because they just lost 3x that amount in one day at the casino the day before and are now pacing trying to figure out how they are going to pay their mortgage/rent. A compulsive gambler pays childcare apologetically because they are late picking up their child again, as they raced out of the casino and hit traffic on their ride back to their hometown where they were supposed to be to pick up their child on time.

I didn't personally do everything a compulsive gambler can do, and I did many things compulsive gamblers do. The list is unending what a real compulsive gambler is capable of and what makes rational sense when you are a compulsive gambler. The craziest thing of all, is that when we are in the rooms - in the GA rooms - we find out - none of us did these things without someone else doing something just like it. No two compulsive gamblers do the same crazy things - but we all do irrational things. That's the chaos of this addiction. That's why we need our meetings. We need to hear other people's stories and be like, "oh my god, I did that too!!!" We realize that we are not alone. The best thing GA ever gave me was the realization that I was not a "broken" human being. I was sick. GA provided me some of the healing I needed and I will continue to need it for the rest of my life.

Sporty and I have set a goal to try to attend a new meeting every month. Some will take a short trip, some much longer. It will be nice to hear new stories and, perhaps, some very familiar ones along the way. We are going to try to fit in some regional GA conferences as well. It's all about our recovery, giving back to the program that has given us to much, and growing as individuals. The worst thing we can do is become complacent. Recovery is a journey, not a resting place. Tonight, was our first adventure and I am very glad we took it.

Too Much Distance

I'm in need of my besties. Today proved that. Out of the blue, I received a text from Traveler inviting me to lunch. We sat and caught up - other than a few times over the last several months, we really haven't had much time together. The same is true with all my local friends - Cache and I have hung out only 2-3 times, Joy and I about the same... it's true for all my friends close by. Then considering my friends back home, and it's even worse. I once talked to Survivor every couple days at least, now we catch up at most every week, sometimes even less. Same with all my close friends back home.

Being out with Traveler was good, though. It was nice to catch up on her life. So much can happen and she's such a genuinely good person. She also treated me to lunch and I didn't understand why. She said it was to celebrate my getting through the semester. Then she pointed out all these things I've overcome in the last five or so months - release from the BOP, finding out that I was officially back in school just hours before classes started, flairs of my health condition, my grandmothers death,  going back to work, a new major, more credits than I had to take on, moving in and taking on "family," where I lived along before going away, etc. I started to tear up. I hadn't even thought of this past semester in those ways. I just kept running, running, running, and trying to stay on top of everything and not letting anything - especially my new "Felon" written across my forehead (figuratively) keep me from achieving anything. I suppose Sporty tries to tell me these things, but we live together and I know she is always kind to me, hearing it from someone else helped me really hear it. I think what I hate about taking on all that is that I inevitably put distance between me and all those I really care about. I keep saying I'm going to do better. I must do better. My life and all these goals are nothing if I am not a good person to the people who are angels in my life.

Maybe the right plan for me isn't to try and catch up with the person I was before all the legal stuff came down in 2013, but to slow down and catch up with who I am today. I don't necessarily know what that means exactly. I mean, I intend to still chase my goals, but I need to breathe. I need to spend time with the people I care about. I need to let people know that they matter, too. I have some time right now to put all these thoughts together and be kind to myself and really meditate on what it all means. I intend to do just that. In the mean time, I need to thank Traveler for my unexpected lunch and her incredible friendship over the years. Her energy from the minute I met her was the kind that one just wants to be around. She has an incredible way of helping me find broader perspective as well. It's time I stop putting distance between myself and everything important and stop running so much and just slow down and enjoy more moments like lunch with a good friend.

A Police Escort

I'm not supposed to have any interaction with the police. Well, that's not exact true. Any police interaction I have, means I need to call my PO and inform him of the interaction. Yesterday, I received a police escort for two miles but luckily, I don't think the cop knew my name, so I think I'm safe from having to report in. Although, I suppose I could've received a ticket for going below the speed limit...

I can officially cross a 5k off my bucket list. I did not run. I did not do well. I was last from the very beginning. I limped my way around the entire race having fallen behind even the other slowest walkers during the first block of the walk. 

My body did not hold up well. My enthesitis (Achilles issues) started going crazy by the 3/4 mile. My limp was very pronounced by the halfway point. At mile 2.2 or so, I was offered a short cut. I said, "no short cuts." If I was going to finish a 5k, I was going to really finish.

The cop car, with lights on, just slowly creeped behind me making sure no one hit me! I wasn't alone. An older lady from the organization was responsible for walking with the last walker, so she walked with me, talked to me, and generally kept me companionship. Joy and Sporty were with me at times, but the pace was a bit too slow for their long legs. I could see them not walking too fast in front of me throughout most of the course. They waited for me at the end so we could cross the finish line together.

The announcer said my name loudly so all could hear that I was crossing the finish line. For me, I was proud to have finished, but I did not want that public recognition of my being absolutely last. No one needs to know the struggles I have to just be able to move my body at times. I felt embarrassment more than pride.

I hope that when "flair season" is officially over for me, I will find I am walking easier once again. Plus, my doctor is changing my medication away from Enbrel to Cimzia this month. Not sure if it'll make a difference. What I do know is that a day later, I am barely able to move and walking 3+ miles is nothing.

I looked around after the 5k for the officer to thank him for the escort, but didn't see any officers around. I suppose it's a good thing. I am supposed to report ANY interactions with police. It would just be a waste of my POs time to have to read a report saying: "an officer had to escort me from behind within his vehicle while I slowly walked a 5k on Saturday and I thanked him after." So, I just put it out to the universe, I'm glad I was not alone and very grateful - I had Joy and Sporty walking a slow pace in front of me, a nice volunteer walking my incredibly slow pace beside me, and an officer driving and staring at my rear end behind me. I was well buffered as I finished my first ever 5k.