Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 18



CLAW MARKS


There is a brackish river whose current changes direction twice a day. Its bed is well washed on every side. It begs the question: which way is downhill? There are times I struggle uphill in both directions. There are times I slip from every slope. What was up is often down. Judgment of topography requires distance. Scaling the surface takes tenacity. I plan on leaving my mark as I go, life’s residue staining my fingertips.


Design caution signs for your emotions.
*


What I Take from Laban’s House


If I have the audacity to have a problem
I must provide the instantaneous solution
or be the cause of world-wide panic.
Additionally it is the height of rudeness
to have open-ended dilemma.

It makes the gods uncomfortable,
makes them shift in their seats
and wish me away.

I prevent banishment
by either being problem free
or solution-full

When the answers are not to their liking
I exile myself saving them the inconvenience
and me the embarrassment.

It is never good to implode the household deities,
you never know when you might need one
for historic perspective or a door stop.




You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

[Loren_Q]

Yesterday I had a run-in with someone, someone who knows exactly how to get to me. In the past, run-ins with this person made me want to drink (I never did though). Full disclosure: I had in the past done a grave disservice to this person; I did make my amends but it was too little, too late, they have opted to not forgive.

Yesterday was different, as it started getting heated I did a personal inventory and saw my part in the escalation, maybe for the first time.

Because of that I was able to extricate myself intact, no desire to drink, no desire to argue, just sadness that this happens. I was grateful as well.

I apologized for my part, wished them well and said goodbye.

[LeftWriteFemme]

April 19



DROWNING NAKED


Bare and exposed, I laid myself on the altar of my home group. With AA as my only Source, I emptied the contents of my soul and bore the mantle of overexposure. But vultures lurked in many rooms. I was safely guided, by persons of my gender, to the more secluded and effective place of transmission. I thrust myself into the arms and mind of my sponsor. She escorted me up the steps with the door closed and taught me how and when it could be prudently opened. AA is a power greater than me. So is the ocean. Precaution needs to be taken when wading in. Care must be exercised as to how much to bare.


Wrap your intentions in wool to keep them warm and in gold to keep them untarnished.
*



Bound


The reason the sleeves of my disease
wrap around and tie in the back
is so that I will struggle with change.

Alcoholism is my straightjacket
and my goal is that ‘loose garment life’
I’ve heard so much about.

The sweat I work up
from railing against my confining existence
causes petulance, frothing and enervation,

Defeat is the landing on which I collapse,
acceptance a flight of steps away.
My ailment leads me to believe
I have nothing to hold onto as I adjust.

Though this isn’t true,
the fact remains that this is still
a process of letting go.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault