I’ve been wondering lately if my recovery has stalled. In early sobriety changes seemed to happen much more frequently. Little things like wanting to move more, yoga, paying attention to my eating habits all began slowly but I felt them happen in my body, mind and spirit. It was present. Proof I was doing well and making progress. Lately, I haven’t felt much of anything and long for some reassurance I’m still moving forward and not stuck, doomed to repeat history. This week I got what I asked for, not in the way I would have liked but the universe knows me more than I know it – which means signs have to be gigantic neon billboard messages for me to clue into what I’m being told.
The week was sort of a write off. My goal list really wasn’t a priority. I wasn’t sleeping well and I just didn’t have any motivation. I checked out frequently. During one of those moments I was driving home from work, speeding actually – down a road I travel twice a day to and from work. I usually stay in the left lane until after I pass a dip in the road that has almost taken out the bottom my car on a few occasions. After I pass it, I move over because I have to make the next right.
Normally I’m a pretty safe driver. I use my signals with my blind spot indicator on so it warns me of anyone beside me. This day I did not. I don’t know why exactly except that I was tired, distracted and just going through the motions.
When I turned onto this road I was the only one on it besides the dump truck in front of me. In a split second I passed the dip in the road and just moved over to the right lane, no signal, and no shoulder check.
What was I thinking? I don’t have a good answer for that.
I didn’t see the car beside me until I did and it was too late to serve back into my lane unless I wanted to be crushed by the truck. Thankfully the man behind me slammed on his breaks and we did not connect. I waved my apology in the rear view mirror and prayed I would make it around the corner where I could get away from him, but the universe would have none of it – there was a lesson to be taught. The light turned red and I was stuck there with this man behind me who I assumed wanted to rip my head off. Cowardly, I peaked in the rear view mirror and saw him get out of his car. Yikes! He knocked loudly on my window and I jumped even though I knew he was coming. Thinking back it probably wasn’t a smart thing to do to roll my window down when there is an angry man knocking on it, but again I was not thinking and just instinctively did so.
When I did, before he could get a sound out of his mouth, I said, “I know, I’m sorry.”
He went on a little about how I could have killed both of us (a little bit of a stretch but who am I to correct the guy, I mean he probably was standing there with shit in his pants – again, my fault). I just kept repeating, “I know, I’m sorry,” until he was just there in the middle of the street looking at me silently, finally he took a big breath and let out a sigh, “Okay,” he said and walked back to his car.
The fact I apologized for my actions many would say is my recovery but really I would have anyway because there was no one else to blame it on. Yes, he was going a good clip, he must have been to be able to catch up with me so fast, but I was the one who changed lanes, no signal, and no shoulder check. Me.
This is where without recovery I fall apart. The fact I had made a mistake and someone confronted me about it would have eaten me alive a year ago. I would have beaten myself up and replayed the incident over and over and over again, haunting me into the evening and disrupting my sleep.
However with recovery, even though I did replay it in my head on the way home, my inner dialogue was completely different. I didn’t berate myself; I calmed myself. I chose to focus on forgiving instead of condemning. I chose gratitude it ended peacefully and no one was hurt. I kept repeating “It was a mistake, you’re human.” There was nothing else I could have done in the situation but apologize repeatedly – done, check. I let him express his emotions, held space for him which he seemed to need because when he was done he was much more relaxed so the interaction didn’t end hostile but as peacefully as it could have. Every time I went to negative self talk. I vocally forgave myself – “Its okay, no one was hurt. Everyone has cut someone off once, right?”
Yes, I still think about it but I think that’s healthy, its slowed me down, when I get in the car I tell myself to be present – I’m driving now. Also, it has made me more aware of what power we have in deescalating a situation just by acknowledging our mistakes and allow others to speak their truth.
He came out of the car I’m sure looking for a fight. I don’t know what he was expecting, maybe an argument, a defense or simple a person who was unaware of what they had done. Either way it didn’t matter because he was met with full acceptance and like magic there was nothing more to say. Nothing to fight about.
It’s been a really good feeling knowing my anxiety level isn’t what it once was. And I am astounded at how I’ve been able to move past it without reliving it until I feel I’ve beaten myself up sufficiently or until some other bone head move I’ve done has replaced it.
I was reminded of another time I had an altercation 8 years ago. I was newly sober, maybe a month, so really, really raw. Again I had an angry older man at my car window knocking on it except this time I had no idea what I had done. I rolled down the window and he just went off on me, yelling in my face that I was parked in a fire zone (I wasn’t) – it was the kiss n ride at my kids school, I was waiting for my daughter to get out of school as was everyone else. I was beyond flustered by this; he was verbally spewing negativity, insinuating I was an entitled snob in my face, with my young son in the back seat. I had no recovery back then, I didn’t know how to respond so I told him to, “Fuck off,” (as you do) and rolled up my window. He continued to rant for a couple more seconds. I eye balled my son in the rear-view mirror and his eyes were as big as saucers. I was left shaken and angry at myself for not handling it better. I wanted a drink immediately. I thought about this encounter for weeks. I replayed, relived and analysed it. I thought of all the things I could have said and done to show him how wrong he was. But mainly I just couldn’t get it out of my mind. I mean, it was years ago and I’m still writing about it.
So there you have it. My recovery is well and good. I just have to be open to recognizing it. The remarkable thing about this whole thing and it didn’t occur to me until days after… I didn’t even think about having a drink. Amazing. I did come home and stuff two handfuls of Doritos in my mouth but I’m pretty sure we have already established that I’m not perfect, right?
One vice at a time people… one vice at a time.