"Whatever POWER is, That's What ADDICTION STEALS"​ (a personal fav)

Within the framework of my first 1,000 days of recovery, I sat alone in the back of the room, still green in my newfound sobriety, completely drained, the sounds of the 12-step group fading into silence. Nothing was left and in that stillness, three words entered my head, almost as if spoken aloud, after which I, without forethought, flashed to a childhood memory on a cool summer morning....
Those three words were "Addiction Steals Power." I found myself transported, standing outside my childhood home, awestruck, watching an aluminum disc circling around inside its glass protective globe, clicking off the electric use for the meter reader's next visit. It was like a watch, but instead of measuring time, it was measuring power. Well, whatever power is, that's what addiction steals.
More brashly, I could say that addiction sucks the life right out of you, but that would be incorrect. It is silent and subtle and seemingly harmless, like the lightweight aluminum disc described above.
Addiction steals time, too, in concert and by differing degrees and metrics. Like hydrogen and oxygen, they cascade over an obscure tipping point at which point "I am an alcoholic and I am powerless" takes on new measures of meaning.
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Recovery, for me, has been all about recovering what can be recovered, what has not been completely destroyed, and accepting the responsibility of reconstructing a life so deconstructed.
A new life, a sober life, unknown to me, awaited. It took twice a thousand days to feel myself moving forward, unfettered by the different drumbeats of addiction, sometimes clamoring, sometimes whispering, that a drink would somehow solve anything and everything. 
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Inside that larger globe called living sober that blossomed and continues to bloom, the sky's protective arc stretches beyond all horizons and the disc, within, circling, is gratitude. The power, now, is serenity in moments immeasurable.

"Addiction Steals Power" is no longer true. Addiction Stole Power, past tense, is this day's truth. Today, I glide toward endless horizons of continuing Recovery. Today, "Nothing matters more than that we remain sober because when we remain sober everything matters more." Today, even my memory of a child on a cool summer morning watching in awe as a small aluminum disc spun 'round is a fulfilling memory only in sobriety.
For me, one drink would destroy all memories, past and yet to come.... Recovery, now, is serenity in moments immeasurable. 
Alcohol stole power many yesterdays ago. Recovery is the way I go today, cool, calm, sober, serene. Recovery, now, is serenity in moments immeasurable. Recovery IS power.

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#Alcoholism #Addiction #Recovery
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You may also wish to explore my Autobiographical Fiction, ALL DRINKING ASIDE: The Destruction, Deconstruction & Reconstruction of an Alcoholic Animal (on Amazon.com):
http://amzn.to/1bX6JyO
4,444+++ Recovery Tweets: http://twitter.com/JimAnders4
99+ Recovery Posts: https://goo.gl/fmzt9b

IMAGINATION EXPERIMENT: Are YOU the 15th Stone....?

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In youth, I sought self-knowledge, striving to uncover a self-identity (which I genuinely lacked).
Getting nowhere fast, my self-knowledge was obscured, blurred and most certainly delayed by the 30-year chemical assault of alcohol and other drugs on my spirit, my body and my brain.
Where I picked myself up after that 30-year onslaught on my senses ended was not where I left off as a teen. When I got off the bus after my first rehab hospital, I felt like I had entered a personal, futureless wasteland. Lost, directionless. Somehow, I began. My recovery has been a long, continuing journey of who... (?) how... (?) when... (?).
Beginning where I left off, tens of thousands of drinks later, where does one start? Will an identity be found, discovered, created? More importantly, did I, could I, would I ever care?
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Check this out from my early recovery. I ran across this Experiment from an unknown source (which really fired-up my imagination):
"Somewhere, Japan or China, who knows? San Francisco? A garden exists somewhere, a rock garden: let's say the size of a tennis court. You can walk completely around it, but you are not allowed to cross its borders. This rock garden contains fifteen large stones of varying sizes, say, knee to chest high. And this rock garden is so constructed that no matter where you stand on the garden's perimeter, only fourteen of the stones are ever visible. One stone, forever changing, is always hidden from view. Fifteen stones in the garden, and no matter where you stand, only fourteen are visible."
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The possibilities of sober tomorrows were the unknown treasures at my feet. Stones unturned. Stones unturned. Stones unturned.
Torn apart, destroyed, by substance or by self, by fear and doubt or a thousand endless emotions known, and unknowable, I was here and there and now, for this one day, for never, for always.
Seek. Strive. Celebrate!
Who is not the 15th stone? 
Will I ever find I home?
How long it took. And yet, there it was, inside, the 15th stone.
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My chemical assault is over, has been over, will continue to be... Over!
Imagine your are the 15th stone (because you are and always have been). Surrender your drink at point of entry. Life will be better there.
Welcome.
Welcome home.

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"Nothing matters more than that we remain sober because when we remain sober everything matters more." 
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#Alcoholism #Addiction #Recovery
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Passages in quotes are excerpted from All Drinking Aside: The Destruction, Deconstruction & Reconstruction of an Alcoholic Animal http://amzn.to/1bX6JyO
4,444+++ Recovery Tweets here: http://twitter.com/JimAnders4
99+ Recovery Posts here: https://goo.gl/fmzt9b