I don't know what to say anymore.

My title sums it up, really.  After several weeks of not feeling inclined to write, I decided I would just tell it like it is. 

I have no answers.  I have no idea if I’m handling this all well.  I have no clue who is right.  And I’m tired of listening to both myself and others, but I must.

I have anger, just as much as I have hopeful faith.  I have contentment, just as much as I want more.  I have acceptance, just as much as I want to change anything and everything about what’s happening in my own little world.

And yes, I want to drink.

I want to get the fuck away from dissension, apathy, doubt, boredom, fear and any kind of “new normal.”  I hate all the sayings.  I hate parades.  I hate the news.  I hate Facebook.  I hate not being able to share a bottle of wine with my husband.

Each time that I’ve uprooted my life and had to recreate my own happiness, I’ve had a “new normal” to contend with.  What will I accept?  What will I change? 

When I moved to London, I knew what was bothering me.  I knew that I wasn’t crazy and that there were things that weren’t being said. I knew that isolation was bringing pain, and I knew that drinking wasn’t helping.  But I was also discounted and shamed, so I had to expend energy where it shouldn’t have been spent.  Instead of focusing on the destructive behavior at hand, I was forced to listen to someone who declared that I was “sick” and couldn’t see things clearly.  Um…I have news for all of you.  It’s entirely possible for someone to drink unhealthily at night and STILL be able to see MANY things clearly.  It just depends on what we’re all talking about.  What are we trying to SEE? 

You can’t change the behavior if you disregard the importance of the symptoms.  You can’t treat the “disease” with blatant disregard for the person.  And you can’t cure anything, if you make judgements of treatment based on ignorance.

I had a dislike for AA from the very beginning.  I went to my first meeting in a basement level of a church in London.  And yes, I stopped and had two glasses of wine before I even went.  If you are surprised by this action, just think about it. 

“Jen, please go and talk to other shameful people, who meet in a dark room, proclaiming their failures, who are known by their first names only…and get the help that you need.” 

“Yeah, I know, not a single one of them is a doctor or psychiatrist, but that’s okay.  At least they have a book to read.  It was written by one like you.  You’re different, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I have one more request.  Let’s just keep this a secret.  Okay?  Yes, you are fighting a DISEASE and it will be hard, but it’s not anything that others need to know about.”

“What’s that again?  Ummm…no, I won’t stop drinking in front of you.  It’s not my problem.”

And AA didn’t help. 

Yes, it’s true.  I didn’t stay long enough to hear all the wise words, but they lost me at the get go.  They lost me at assuming I should be embarrassed to give my full name…to be segregated from society…to profess a label…to read ONE piece of literature in order to heal. 

I gotta tell you.  I’ve made the best decisions of my life when I have taken in the words of many smart and trusted individuals.  And unfortunately, I usually have to sort through a lot of horse shit, before I know whose words I can trust and whose I cannot.  That takes time.  It takes patience and determination.  And it takes a clear commitment to personal betterment and honesty in where I’m at, in whatever moment someone else asks me.  Or I ask myself, for that matter. 

To be able to say…”I don’t know.”

Or…”That sounds really smart.  I think I’ll try that for a while.”

Or…”My core says NO to that.  I don’t believe your words.”

Or more importantly…”I don’t believe YOU.”

People don’t like these kinds of answers.  They usually cause a fight, or at least dissension.  But it’s the healthiest place to be, in my opinion…because it means that I am listening.  It means that I’m trying.  It means that I don’t let others decide how I should feel or what I think, because that’s giving away power. 

And if anyone declares knowing it all, it’s usually a reason for me to distrust them.

When I was in rehab, the actual facility itself was a follower and promoter of AA principles, but I didn’t shut the door on AA entirely, due to my past experiences.  Instead, I decided to listen.  I decided to say, “I don’t know.” 

In that sentence, I started healing.  Usually, there’s a lot of RIGHT in things that aren’t holistically agreeable. I started to re-prioritize and use my own core values to search for who I paid attention to, who I listened to, and who I stayed away from.  I started to form a tribe of people that I could count on, and by watching them in action…I decided what we might be if we banded together, if we listened to one another, if we all helped one another to heal.

I was annoyed at those who didn’t think they needed to be there, who professed to know better. Lord have mercy…if you land in rehab, you likely have something you need to work on, but okay, just take those 4-hour naps and I’ll see you in the cafeteria at dinnertime. 

I never voiced my initial feelings about attending AA meetings.  Not then. 

I participated in each daily meeting, gave my input and also listened…and continued to say, “I don’t know.”  I was in a place of learning, exploration, openness.  And that’s why I hold those four weeks up as…precious time.  Precious learning. 

Why didn’t I say then, that I hated AA?

Because I wanted to UNDERSTAND…much more than I wanted to be right. 

And who the hell am I to tell someone else what might work for them? Nah, it was important to respect everyone else’s journey, just as I was expecting them to respect mine. This concept is more than golden.

That was my number one priority: to learn.  And at the same time, I stayed resolute in making sure that I still had an opinion, that in the listening, I was still a thinking human being. I had spent way too many years listening to one, who did NOT understand me or addiction or how those two entities connect. 

I balanced humility with pride…listening with speech…and patience with action.

If you’ve read most of my writings, you know that I talk about this time with affection.  The counselors.  The friends I met.  The meals I shared.  The music I sang with others.  The pains I voiced.  The connections I made. I came home with a real respect for many AA philosophies, enough for me to continue to delve into the concepts and begin to live by many of the principles.  They are ones that we should all live by, frankly.  If you think they are for “special people” or “alcoholics”, then I guess this is the one time, I’ll say that I am both of those.

I’ve already said that I don’t attend AA.  I also don’t attend church.  And if you’ve read my writings regularly, it’s very possible you may have assumed otherwise.  There are many things regarding spirituality that I don’t know, but there are many things that I know for sure.  I’m still in that space, really.  The exploration, the learning, the unknowing…and quite content to remain there.

But it all started because I said that I wanted more.  I wanted to understand myself and others, but I didn’t know how to achieve that, so I opened my ears.  There was intention. And that opening of my ears, led to the opening of my brain, heart, and yes…soul. But it was a process.

I’ve always loved reading essays of older people who write about the “things they know for sure.”  I find it fascinating that many of them ring true for myself, and I’m always hopeful that I may read some new insight that makes me ponder.  I wish we all did this kind of writing every few years.  Perhaps that’s what I do when I write.  I decide what I know for sure, what I still want to know and in doing so, I find that this honesty brings clarity that is otherwise unspoken.

I hope we all are listening…to ourselves and to others.  I hope we are taking the time to connect our core values with whatever actions we are making.  I hope that we aren’t checking our brains at the door, and letting untrusted individuals tell us what to do…when we ourselves know that THEY DON’T KNOW EITHER.  I hope we are willing to sit in the fact that many things are unsure…so we better figure out what the hell we DO know.

I know that I don’t like having other people avoid me in the grocery aisle, because I’m not wearing a mask.  And so, I do.  It’s a really simple action that’s better than physical avoidance.  I prioritize how I connect with others, because I think we need it now, more than ever, so if this simple action alleviates fear, then I do it.  In this way, yeah I guess I’m “doing it for others,” but honestly, I’m doing it because it connects with a core value that is important to me.  And more than anything, I hope that the very little time that we spend with strangers, are not times of conflict. My respect for others is more important than my level of personal fear.

I know this virus will be here much longer than I would like.  I don’t think we will have real answers on the spread or how to contain it for months, maybe years…so I make sure that I continue to listen to different perspectives and make decisions on who I find trustworthy.  This is difficult, to say the least, so I’ll just be honest for now and say, “I don’t know.”

I know many people are hurting, unable to pay their bills, and that I’m not one of those people.  I know that I do not know their fear.  I do not know their anger.  And I do not know what is best, so I must figure out how I can best help.  I will support local businesses re-opening and making decisions on what kind of social distancing they will allow in their space…and then I’ll decide if I go there. And since I don’t have to work outside the home, I will lift up all essential workers as more important than myself…and respect their own fears by wearing a mask. Because at least they know by my covering and by my pleasant greeting, that they are appreciated by me.

I will respect the fear that resides because of the unknowing.  To do my best at this, means that my actions better represent my core values and what is prioritized by our household right now. That means being aware of my outings, because our family is trying to have contact with several sets of aging grandparents in the coming weeks.  That is more important than my getting out on a regular basis and more important than whether or not anyone is trying to tell me what to do. No one told me anything. This is my choice, because we DON’T KNOW.

I know that the media is addressing the spread of the virus, much more than they are addressing the mental and emotional affects of these weeks of isolation.  That is of grave concern to me.  From week one, we all noticed that grocery stores and liquor stores were still open.  Um…yeah.  If you thought that was for all the millions of Americans that drink casually, you are wrong.  That was for the millions of Americans who are dependent, who risk major health issues like stroke and heart attack if they stop drinking abruptly.  That’s not just a cute selfie with your wine on the porch, that’s the reality of millions stepping further into addiction.  I can’t imagine the influx of rehab patients after the worst of this is past.  That will be interesting.  I know that if someone already struggled, their condition is even more acute at this very moment.  I know that if they were early in recovery, the likelihood is that they started drinking or using again during this time.  And I know that the millions who depend on AA as a vital support system, are now without this regular support. 

I know that I could just say…I don’t want to drink right now, but that would be a lie.  Of course, I do.  Mike has an evening drink a couple of times a week, and I so wish I could join him.  Nope, this isn’t unhealthy at all, because I’m also absolutely aware that the feeling is fleeting.  It’s even healthy, because I’m honest about it, and I know my core values include not drinking on my part.  This, I know for sure.

We made this decision together, because I was honest about not knowing at the beginning of recovery. For months, he abstained out of love for me, and also because we both still had fear. We respected that fear and respected the other person. That fear has waned, so we can now resume our “new normal.” We choose what that is, and we redefine it as necessary.

I sat through the months of unknowing, I listened, and eventually I had new things that I knew for sure. Yes, it’s that easy. At this point, it’s really no different than me saying that I want a greasy breakfast burrito this morning. Not wise, so I decide differently.

I’ll keep listening to myself and others, and I’ll be honest about where I am.  That’s my best effort at keeping it together.  I’ll tell you when I don’t know, and I’ll confirm my core values by my honesty and by my actions.

Mike and I took a walk around the neighborhood the other day, and in walking by one of the homes who clearly had a child with a birthday inside, I exclaimed, “Fuck yard signs!”  Yeah, a little crude, but also very true to what I know for sure.  I decided it was the new way of having custom water bottle labels at a toddler’s birthday party, a way to outwardly show the love and care for our children.  Pretty silly. Yes, of course I know that this is not all bad, but I wonder what that says about us all. 

And that exclamation made us laugh, so it was worth it.  I mean, 4 months ago, who would have thought the yard sign businesses would be thriving right now???  Absolutely no one.

And the irony is, as much as I’m annoyed by it all…Grace’s birthday is next week, and I may make one.  “Honk, if you love Grace…and Honk, if this sign annoys you.”

So yeah, I just don’t know what to say anymore.

We’re all doing our best, right?

The smartest thing I can say right now is, “I don’t know.”