Dear Peeps:

“Every day is not Christmas Day
Every night is not New Year’s Eve
Some days, chill and dreary,
Some nights cold and unlit, Steve” :

The night has fallen
Dark has descended.
My whole f****ing life
Seems so upended.

Will there be ever
New, better ‘morrow?
Will there be never
One without Sorrow?

One day, all I ask
Happy, Joy and Free:
Day without your mask
Happy, Joy for me!

Sobriety…Yes
Serenity…No
It’s a time for change,
It is  time to go.

The time to withdraw,
To be a recluse.
Finally I saw…
No longer of use

To the sufferer.
To the one in pain,
Nor e’en another.
Not ever again!

TOMORROW WILL BE A BETTER DAY!

Peeps!
Please stay SOBER and CLEAN
Please…with me, KNOW
That every day is a…

Yesterday it snowed all day.  It was as if there was a giant flour sifter in the heavens that just endlessly dusted layer upon layer of light, pure, dainty snow powder all over the land.  I stayed in the house, the grey sky telling me to be still, enjoy the quiet and just listen.  I did as I was told.  I spent most of the day in my bed, reading and just being quiet - letting the stillness speak.  This is what it said:

Our time in this place is temporary.  We do not know when we will leave, nor do…

Great is thy faithfulness, oh God my father,

There is no shadow of turning in thee.

Thy changest not, thy compassions they fail not,

As thou hast been, thou forever will be.

For the last few days, I can’t stop singing this old church song, especially the part about “no shadow of turning.” I think of how much I long for that full, unconditional love, without a shadow of turning. I’ve looked for it my whole life. It’s hard to imagine how I’ve always had it if I’d just looked in the right place. Even when I feel as close to God as I’ve…

A friend called me last night. She’s in the midst of some very messy office politics at work. She thinks her coworkers are being difficult. They think she’s being unreasonable. Her boss thinks they’re all wrong and they all think the boss is wrong. “Do you think I’m being unreasonable? Am I crazy or are they?” she asked. And I paused, because I’ve seen a whole lot of crazy at this point in my life and I’ve gotten a pretty secure grip on two things: the first is what I think is and isn’t crazy, and the second (and more important)…

QUOTE:What’s the difference between an addict & an alcoholic?
Both will steal your wallet, but the addict will spend all night helping you look for it.

SHORT STORY

Well, I’m still sober after another (umm!) day.  Nights are so good–like an escape. As a child, I would wander about the farm after everyone was asleep, talk to the animals, sigh at the moon, and frighten the hens and hogs.  Sometimes I’d saddle up my horse Mickey (not really mine!) and ride out beyond sight of the compound of house, barns, pens, sheds and  machinery.

Riding under a high and full moon in July or…

I went to see “Avatar” last night.  I originally hadn’t planned on going, but heard amazing things about how beautiful the movie was and that the message was profound.  I know absolutely nothing  about all the technical voo-doo that went into making this  $300,000 million dollar movie, but I do know that it has left an imprint in my heart.

The movie takes place in the 21st century and tells the story of a mission by U.S. Armed Forces to mine an indispensable mineral that is plentiful on a moon called Pandora, somewhere out in the universe.  The inhabitants of Pandora,…

Reviewed by Ginger B.

“A Piece of Cake” is a memoir written by San Francisco attorney, Cupcake Brown, in which she painstakingly chronicles her life beginning at age 11, when her mother suddenly dies, through the hell of the next 15 or so years,  and eventually to the awakening she finds in recovery.

The reader is immediately plunged into the violent, malicious, sexual world in which Cupcake will live, with a description of Cupcake’s first foster home - a place where she is repeatedly raped, physically assaulted and verbally and emotionally abused by Diane, and her daughter and nephew.  She runs away…

Years ago, I met a woman who, when she was disagreeing with her partner, would tell him, “That’s not my reality.” She had a way of saying it that implied there was a real Reality (hers) and some alternate Crazytown Reality (his). You had only to hear those few words and know that he was totally batshit and she not only had a PhD in Reality, she was the president and CEO of Reality. In recovery, I’ve found myself clinging to similar mantras — most often “that’s not my experience” or “that’s not my truth” — and often (admittedly) with that…

I’m addicted to Snus. Stupid little tobacco-ish pouches being pushed by 7-11’s for people like me, who want the zing of nicotine without the social stigma of smoking or spitting. Reviews talk about them tasting more like candy than tobacco, but they’ll give you mouth cancer all the same. I recently discovered that my (sober) alcoholic cousin shared my interest in the little pouches, so I told him how I like to stuff two or three in my mouth at the same time. After all, the American version contains only 6g of tobacco versus the Swedish 24g.

Pretty clear indication that…

My guts won’t catch up with my reality. I wonder if they ever will. If my husband is slightly grumpy, my emotional reaction is to begin to prepare for him to disappear, forever, into the land of addiction. I get really, really tired of myself when I do this.

I know the solution, too…it’s the same old solution to everything. The solution is to pray. The solution is for me to pray for faith - faith that God is going to take care of me, no matter what. Faith that I will find my way. Faith that my husband will find his way,…

LEARN BY DOING

IF a girl–who never speaks to me–walked up to me on a Saturday night and said, “Steve, my husband will celebrate his sober anniversary tomorrow morning at 7 AM meeting. Could you be there?  My husband would like that very much.”

I would answer either, “OK.”…or…”I don’t come to meetings on Sunday morning.”

Well, I approached a girl who is actually very unfriendly toward me, who never attends meetings on Sunday mornings, and asked her, “My wife will celebrate 24 years Sunday morning at the 7AM meeting.  Would you mind being there?”

The girl smiled, and cheerfully said (only) these very…

This morning, Alix at The Second Road forwarded me a link to an article about sex addiction by psychologist Michael Bader. When I saw the title (”Sex Addiction: A B.S. Excuse for Not Thinking“), I almost didn’t click through (the whole “excuse” thing is so tiresome) but I couldn’t resist some good blog fodder, so I did anyway. To my surprise, Mr. Bader wasn’t talking about sex addiction being an excuse for acting badly in addiction. However, not to my surprise, the article did focus on the same old semantic argument: “Sexual compulsions are real and they harm the person…

of being sick and tired.  This time I mean it literally.  I am, once again, velcroed to my bed, and have been for the last several days.  Flu?  Funk?  Stuff?  It boils down to headache, sore throat, nausea and absolutely debilitating weakness.  This pattern has been a natural part of my life for the past several years, especially prominent in the winter months.  I feel absolutely perfect…go to work, the gym, my other classes and everything is fine and then SLAM!!!!! The symptoms appear and I’m in bed….sometimes for 18 hours, sometimes for a day or two.  This time it’s…

This moment of time
Is still yours–and mine.

Let us be happy
And forgiving,
Caring, Sharing, Loving…
And in PEACE! Living
With less stress.
Shall we? Yesssss!

And maybe tomorrow also?

Sorry Peeps. I got slightly hooked on “waxing poetic” the past several months.  But there IS always the “real story”:
A week ago I ran into a guy at an AA meeting–rather new–with “six months”??? of clean and sober.  We became not quite friends, but–friendly.  I picked him up for a couple rides to meetings.  We talked deep into Alcoholics Anonymous program during these half-hour trips.

He had been a “former member” and seemed now ready to (his words!) “get…

There are some people, places, and events in the past that I would prefer cease existing. I was preparing an exercise for a prayer meeting I’m leading soon, and it was based on the Serenity Prayer. I realized that I one of the things I cannot change is that certain people, places, and events in the past exist.

They aren’t going to stop existing. All I can do about these things is pray, and it would be shameful to pray that they stop existing. I’m pretty sure God wouldn’t like it if I prayed that one of his human beings be…

I was browsing around Target the other day, when I came across the most fabulous book I have seen in a long, long time: How to Change Someone You Love: Four Steps to Help You Help Them. I laughed the kind of laugh that ought to have sent flocks of birds scattering in alarm. Instead just startled me, and I quickly ducked behind the shelves in embarrassment as I grabbed the book.

I wavered a little over whether it was more morally wrong to skim the book in the store without buying it (is that the literary equivalent of downloading music…

I’ve been walking around with a sense of dread for the last several days because I’ve gotten a new job, and I’d been afraid of having to quit one of my part time jobs to be able to have time for it. I am thrilled with the new job, but the prospect of quitting a job has always been daunting to me. In the past, before recovery, my people pleasing ways would get me so bunched up that I’d do things like never show up again, never pick up a last paycheck, and do my best to avoid ever going…

written by b.e.

I felt moved and compelled to respond to the Road Warrior’s wonderful and very true Jan. 19, 2010 blog “Lighten UP!” Soon, I ran out of room in the comment section (I’m a wanna be blogger). Tonight, I’m tired like many other people with many reasons. It’s been a long day of urgently working on Health Care reform, keeping up to date on my personal connections in Haiti, and helping with funding for immediate rebuilding following this critical time of disaster relief. During difficult times, I and others often dismiss personal struggles with remarks like, “Quit whining. Look…

Macleans has an interesting column making the case for the role of politics in decisions about programs like Insite:

As far as I can tell, we are not having the kind of debate that would force such a person to say “I…

Philosophy bites has an interview with Thomas Pink on free will that I think touches on points important to thinking about addiction.

Here and Now has a good, brief interview with A. Thomas McLellan.Hea

Doctors criticise ‘reckless’ drug abuse guidance

Last week, I was sitting cross-legged on my plump little black cushion on the floor of the Zendo I visit regularly and listening to a talk about cleaning incense burners. And as I listened, the very deep and profound thought that came to me was, “I seriously am never going to volunteer to clean incense burners at this place.” It wasn’t that the task sounded unpleasant — it didn’t — but the volunteers who hadn’t done it right, who hadn’t been sufficiently thorough in their cleaning, were the subject of the dharma talk. Yikes! Wouldn’t want to be those guys!

Now…

I had a good day today. There were lots of parts to it, and each part was special.

My favorite part was watching my husband tutor a friend’s kid on her art portfolio. He was an attentive, helpful teacher, and he was gentle in the way he guided her. It made me love him a little bit more than I did before.

I also did some stepwork with one of my sponsees today, and we did it in one of my favorite places in the world. We were at the prayer center where I volunteer, and she read to me her vision…

The hardest thing about losing Charlie was handing him over to the receptionist in the pet emergency room. He was cold and unresponsive, wrapped in a towel in my arms, and didn’t even look back at me as he was whisked away through a door marked “Employees Only.” I was wet and cold from the rain, but he wasn’t. I’d been rubbing his little body in the car, driving with one hand, and telling him, “it’s okay little buddy, just stay with me for few more minutes. We’re almost to the doctor’s.” It was midnight. I never saw him again.

Charlie…

I used to think that being an addict/alcoholic was kind of unique.  After all, we don’t make up the majority of the population, at least I don’t think we do.  And we have a disease,  so we have our own little  suggested practices to deal with our method of keeping that disease in check and continue healing.  And that is still true as I write these words.  But the older I get, the longer I live among the other earthlings on this planet and the more I interact with individual members of the species, the closer I come to realizing…

A few days ago I stopped spending 8-10 hours each day in front of this monitor reading, writing, commenting, “thinking”, editing, revising, waxing poetic–got the picture?–on the blogs. My blog was (is? since it will stay up for eternity?) steveroni.blogspot.com–but you are not being urged to go there. I am here now, and happily so. Some of my friends are here ALSO (wink-wink!)

I just stopped COLD. Suffering withdrawal for three days, I had exactly the symptoms I experienced when I stopped, after 30 years, using my God-from-the-bottle VODKA, and everything else, including pills of any kind. I stopped drinking. And alcohol…

I was reading over some of the words of Martin Luther King Jr. today, and came across some that reminded me very much of something I used to repeat to myself and my husband in the wake of disclosure of his sex addiction: “There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love.” Dr. King was talking about his love for the church when he wrote those words, while I was talking about my love for what (at the time) was my God and my religion — my husband — but they were true all the same.

I used to…