By: Mike Murphy, Manager of Alumni Services
When you are new to Recovery there is no shortage of advice given to you. Sometimes warranted, others not. But…. wait for it….it is what it is. And if you read my last blog, taking suggestions is a big deal in recovery. And while some of these suggestions hold weight, I think some lie in a gray area.
One of the first pieces of advice we hear, and I give regularly to newcomers, is to ditch the old contacts in your cell phone. Dealers, others in active addiction, and overall people who would serve you and your recovery no good. This is where I think we get into the gray area of things, in my opinion. As an alcoholic, I know I had plenty of numbers I deleted along the way, but I don’t see deleting them as imperative as it would be to the addict. After all, my poison was available to me anywhere. And legally. Shoot, even if I deleted every contact in my phone, I could download Instacart or another delivery app and get it brought to me.
But what about the actual contents of your phone?
This past Sunday afternoon I was at home cleaning and reorganizing my closet. If I’m being honest, this occurs somewhat regularly. Sobriety has changed me in a lot of ways. Some things I never expected. Like always having a meticulous (even color-coded) closet. Hell, not even in the Marines was I like this. But there I was. While going through an old storage bin, I noticed an iPhone in the bottom right corner. As soon as I saw it, I knew. This was my old iPhone from before I got sober.
Almost as soon as I saw it, my mind started going. I knew it was dead, BUT, I have at least three chargers lying around. We could change that in a jiffy. If curiosity killed the cat, I was about to take down a pride. As I mentioned earlier, it wasn’t the contacts I was after. I wanted to see the contents of it. The angel on my shoulder was still telling me I don’t have to look at this. What purpose would it serve? But the devil on the other shoulder had already won.
The next 20 or so minutes were like a full, head-on, slow-motion train wreck. Starting with the text messages. I think most people reading this are aware of the Ol’ drunk dial or drunk text. Even if you have never fallen victim to them. Both can be a crippling blow to your ego. But only one stays in record form. And that is the text. And boy were there a lot of them for me to look at. And it ran the gamut (all of my life I thought it was a gambit) on what form they took. Let’s take a gander.
Embarrassing: Found a text conversation asking someone, “Can I call you later? I’m busy right now.”. Only to read in the next text that it was my Uber driver calling me to tell me he was out front waiting. At 2:28 a.m. What could I have been so preoccupied with at that time of night? And how did it not occur to me that this random number calling me at 2:28 a.m. was probably not someone calling just to chat about life? There were PLENTY more, but this one stuck out. But, while we are discussing Uber…..Have you ever ordered an Uber to get you somewhere that would normally take you three minutes to walk to? But you’re so hammered that you decided a three-minute walk is a no-go? No? Just me?
Despicable: There were plenty of the very late night “You up?” texts. Surely, I was just being a complete Gentleman and making sure that she was doing well and in good health. And then there were ones that just absolutely made me cringe. The kind of stuff memes are made of. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if at some point a meme were made from something I sent. I think desperate could fall under this category, as well. And there were a few Hail Mary desperation heaves I sent to some females that I had taken a liking to. There were some that I genuinely thought might be able to slow me down. To get me on track and finally be “normal”. And then there were others that I had already blown it with, but with just the right amount of liquid denial in me thought I could win them back. The worst part about these ones? They didn’t always come late at night. Some could be during what most could consider to be lunch time. But wait, there’s more. And I saved the best/worst for last.
Shameful: These were the ones that cut at me most, and I could feel it in my gut. The anxiety in even reading them was palpable. The ones that stuck out most were the Venmo notifications from my Mother and Sister. Sending me money for whatever bullshit story or excuse I came up with at that time. The lying to everyone, including myself, was constant. The fact I was a grown ass man, lying to the ones closest to me, that would defend me no matter what I did felt nauseating. The other one, well it came a close second. It was all the people who had been texting me and calling me for quite a while, to which I never responded. These people were concerned for me, wanted to know if THEY had done something wrong that warranted me completely ignoring them. From weddings to funerals of close friend’s loved ones. And we all know they did nothing wrong. I was just so stuck in the downward spiral of alcoholism, depression, and isolation that I couldn’t even face them. So, what better idea than to ignore and hurt them? Insanity of the disease.
Y’all, when I tell you I felt dirty after reading these, I am not exaggerating. I literally had to go take a shower. When I got done and set that phone down, I was beat. Not only did I feel exhausted, but mentally I was somewhere else. And for the sake of transparency, it brought me to a pretty rough place for a couple of days. No matter how hard I tried to divert my thoughts and move past it, ANOTHER text would pop up in my memory. I told some friends about it, and they all had the same thing(s) to say, “But look how far you have come from that” or “You can’t dwell on the past”. And I know these things. I know them well. But it wasn’t cutting it.
A few days after Shame Search ’23, I decided to walk to the beach. Just to kind of clear my head. It was a beautiful morning out and I desperately needed to go stretch my legs. I recently took up a new physical regimen and it quickly reminds me of my age. Plus, I live only a mile and a half from the beach. How sweet is that?! I got there and found a bench on the pier to sit. The smell of the ocean is something that brings me back to my childhood. I would often spend time in the Keys with a neighborhood friend and his family. It’s one of those scents that never leaves your mind. I was able to sit with my thoughts and it didn’t take long before I realized what was happening. I was absolutely without a doubt, putting myself into a negative mindset over nothing. Well not nothing I suppose. But it was definitely of my own doing. Nobody else made me power up that cell phone. And certainly, nobody made me read my own chronicles of filth and depravity. These are things that a person does in active addiction/alcoholism/mental health struggles. These are also things that we hear a lot about when people discuss relapse. “I was feeling sorry for myself/someone hurt me” yadda yadda yadda. And before you know it, you’re right back where you started wondering, “How did this happen?? How did I LET this happen?!”. The thought of it is enough to induce a chest tightening anxiety attack.
I sat on that bench for about 30 minutes. I did a bit of breathwork, some meditation and just some good ol’ fashioned contemplation. All I seemed to hear in my head was my family and close friends telling me how proud they are of me. And that I should be proud of my accomplishments and whatnots. But one voice was strangely missing.
MY OWN.
Where was the pat on my own back? Where were the self-affirmations? Admittedly, I am not great at taking compliments or kudos from others. Hell, I think a lot of us are like that. But there is nothing wrong with being proud of yourself and something you have put a ton of work into. Obviously, it is important to remain humble, but I don’t think a self-high five from time to time is a bad thing. Truthfully, if you ask me; I don’t think we (people in recovery) give ourselves enough credit with what we are doing day in and day out. What we are doing is certainly not easy and many, many of us do not make it. That’s just a sad fact. So that fact that you can find yourself leading a better life, that’s something you should not lose sight of.
I know when I think of accomplishments or things I am getting to do nowadays, it is usually in the material sense. I think most people view those things as accomplishments. But that morning I came to a realization. My largest accomplishment to be proud of is not tangible. It cannot be seen or touched. That accomplishment is how my mind works in sobriety. How I not only view but react to my emotions. I no longer allow my emotions to run the show. I am able to work through my emotions and process them. And I can do so without ingesting anything into my system. I no longer play the victim in self-inflicted situations. I know this is going to be something I will have to constantly remind myself of throughout the rest of my life. Especially if I want to remain proud of my sobriety.
Just as I am going to need to remind myself of how proud I am of how far I have come; I urge you to do the same. Every day can be a battle, some more than others. And if you’re truly putting in the work to make them go by a little easier, than kudos to you. Applaud yourself and maybe give yourself a small, well-deserved pat on the back. You’re doing something most people cannot imagine.
And for the love of all things holy……If you have an old phone(s), factory reset that shit and don’t look back. Coach Deion Sanders might “keep receipts”, but I sure as hell don’t want to, anymore.
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