Solutions in Sobriety
Getting through each sober day is an extra challenge for me. I was first diagnosed with an incurable arthritic condition when I was forty years old and sober a few years. At first the doctor told me that my case was mild, but over the years the physical pain and discomfort has increased. I’m sober now for twelve years.
My first response to this illness was, “Alcoholism–and this too?” I tried to continue working, but if I lifted anything over five pounds, I’d have hours of pain. One day I collapsed on the job. I said, “I can’t go on one more day.” A doctor told me that I’d have to retire.
Although I was going to AA meetings, I didn’t know what to do with the rest of my time. And I bitterly regretted wasting my healthy years. However, I visited a counselor and he convinced me that I could still contribute. He encouraged me to take a volunteer counseling position in a center for disturbed and addicted teens.
Though I had a little trouble keeping up with the field trips, I was amazed to find work in an area I’d completely left behind in my drinking years. I’m now doing Twelfth Step work, and I recently founded a meeting at a recovery home. And I stay on the AA phone line. Although my life isn’t exactly like that of the many newcomers who ask me for help, I’ve found a wonderful common ground where I can feel needed.
Helping others makes me believe the slogan, “We get what we need and not what we want.” I often tell the people I sponsor, “If I’d continued working two and three jobs at the same time, I probably wouldn’t be sober.”
Living one day at a time has brought some interesting challenges. Since I’ve felt the first pains of arthritis, I’ve had to apply the Twelve Steps. I’ve admitted that I was powerless over the pain, and I’ve tried to rely more and more on God’s help. I’ve found that “turning it over” affects my mental as well as physical health. I’ve relied heavily on phone calls, and my AA friends have helped me get through my health fears.
Refusing to listen to my excuses, my AA friends have given me the strength to put on my back brace and use my cane to get to daytime meetings. Getting to meetings has meant traveling by bus, since affording a car hasn’t yet been possible. It turns out that God gave me what I need, because I’m about as centrally located as you can get, and four bus lines run close to my apartment. When I hear friends talk about gas prices and car repairs, I’m grateful I don’t run a car.
Walking back and forth from the bus is the best exercise I could have found. I’ve put this exercise into my daily routine, which includes morning upper body workouts, walks in city parks, and weekly swimming at the neighborhood pool.
I’m beginning to swim like I did in my younger days, and my body seems much lighter under water. Staying fit doesn’t cost much because walks in the park are free: I so enjoy the cool air and looking at the green lawns and shrubbery. I couldn’t see clearly until I got sober. Isn’t this one of the great gifts of sobriety–I’m able to enjoy life in spite of myself! Having all this time on my hands has caused me to reenter the mainstream of life. My friends from AA and a supportive church group are always cheering me on and reminding me to do as much as I possibly can.
I’m still healthy enough to do some work, but I knew it would have to be in my own home. It took me three months to learn to use an old word processor that a friend had given me when she got a new one. Fear and trembling engulfed me at first, but by using a training manual, I learned how to make the leap from typewriter to computer. Computers can be fine companions for those who spend time indoors.
I hope I’ve shared my belief in the motto, “God will work everything to a greater good.” Being disabled and alcoholic seems like a burden to some, but as long as I keep going to meetings, I can see that I have some resources that others don’t have. And I hope I’ve encouraged other people with disabilities to share their experience, strength, and hope.