Answer Addiction

Tag: joy

  • 10 Steps to Leaving Your Joyless Job and Finding Your True Purpose

    10 Steps to Leaving Your Joyless Job and Finding Your True Purpose

    I used to pray for a small enough car accident in which no one got hurt, but my car would need work and I’d get out of the office for a day.

    No Addiction Is Ever as It Seems 

    I’ve heard people say “the problem is never the problem.” No addiction is ever as it seems. In terms of my drug and alcohol addictions, the problem was an inability to cope with the realities of life: The smell of springtime, the first fireflies of summer, all of Earth’s elements struck me with the desire to drink and use. If avoiding “people, places, and things” was going to work for me, I’d have had to relocate to a new, less intense planet.

    Instead of avoiding life, I had to learn new skills to deal with it. I had to have new thoughts. I had to create new neural pathways that made my hand reach for my phone instead of a bottle. I learned to share openly and honestly about the way I felt instead of shoving my feelings down. The root of my drug and alcohol addictions was a fear of being open and vulnerable. By facing that fear, my need to drink and use dissipated. The problem was never the substances themselves.

    Through this process, I learned that I had other problems, with their own underlying problems! I learned that I am also a sex and love addict. Orgasms were never the problem. Sleeping with a married man is ethically unsound, but really wasn’t it more on him than on me? He’s the one who’s married! Morally wrong or not, the weight of the disgust I had for my actions brought me to my knees once again, wherein I learned the real problem: intimacy.

    After working on my intimacy issues, I uncovered another problem:

    I was staying in a job that I hated, and it was making me miserable both in and out of the workplace.

    When Your Job Negatively Affects Your Health

    Most of us have seen Office Space. The truth in life is that most people have to work, except for a few kids with trust funds who never seem all the better for it. But what happens when our work is affecting us negatively? How do we confront this beast while keeping a roof over our heads?

    Working itself is obviously not the problem. Working provides us with money for our homes, our families, our needs and hopefully some wants. Having a strong work ethic is a good thing. The name of the game at this level of recovery is self-worth, and not even so much in terms of money. Money comes and money goes, but how you value yourself, your time, your health, your emotions, and your priorities should remain constant.

    Pay close attention to the way you feel when you wake up in the morning on a workday. Are you looking forward to it? I used to pray for a small enough car accident in which no one got hurt, but my car would need work and I’d get out of the office for a day. It’s so obvious to me now that that was another subtle form of insanity. I thought everyone felt that way. I thought the daily grind was supposed to make you miserable, because if it wasn’t miserable, how would you be able to commiserate with people, and if you couldn’t commiserate with people, what would you even talk about?

    I had no idea that personal development, self-care, growth, fulfillment, and joy could be a part of a career path, or anything my friends would want to talk about. I realize now that constant complaints about hating work are boring, and banter about projects that light us up are a welcomed breath of fresh air.

    If you are stuck in the wrong job, your inner dialogue probably sounds something like the following:

    “I need this job. I’m not really good at anything. I’ve been here a while. I’m not qualified to do anything. I hate my boss, but where else am I going to go? Ugh, today sucks. I’m so over today. I bleeping hate this place.”

    How to Change Your Life

    If you want to make a change, you can, but it will require work, introspection, courage, faith, and, initially, some pain. The following steps got me out of a job I hated and onto a career path meant for me:

    1. Meditate every morning. Listen to your inner monologue from the witness seat. Hear the sounds around you and feel your full feelings as they bubble up in your body.
    1. Set an intention to check back into this quiet part of you three times during the workday. Set alarms on your phone to do it. Ask yourself, “Do I feel healthy? Does my body need anything? Am I happy?”
    1. Write a letter to your boss. Don’t give it to them, but write it. Write all the things you’ve never said but always wanted to, and read it every night for one week.
    1. Decide how you want to feel. For example, I wanted to feel respected, confident, creatively free, relaxed, and motivated. Decide how you want to feel and assess if your needs are met in your current workplace. (For help figuring out how you want to feel, I recommend The Desire Map by Danielle LaPorte)
    1. Journal. After you’ve gotten used to morning meditation, add journaling afterward as part of your morning ritual.
    1. Set a date—one that intuitively speaks to you, and on that day, write down what you really want. No limits, no judgment, no fear. Maybe you want to be able to work from home and raise a family. Maybe you want to be able to travel the world while you work. Maybe you want better health benefits and more beneficial perks. Whatever it is, get it down on paper.
    1. Let go. Affirm that the Universe has heard you, that it is an active forcefield of energy and working on your behalf. Create a ritual to do this. If you pray, say it in prayer. Write it down and burn it. Write it down and stick it under your pillow. Speak it out loud to an understanding friend. Whatever resonates with you, do it.
    1. Follow the clues. Signs will appear. You will be inspired to take actions that may seem crazy, weird, or out of your natural rhythm— you should probably take them anyway. I know you’ve heard that the magic happens outside of your comfort zone, and now is the time to get uncomfortable. For support in taking scary leaps of faith, I recommend reading The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, by Mark Manson.
    1. Listen to “9 to 5” by Dolly Parton. Sing it in your car at the top of your lungs. Actually, forget that—sing it at karaoke. This one’s not just for fun—singing and dancing release your heart vibes into the world and create feel-good chemicals in your brain. Plus, at karaoke, you’ll be uncomfortable, confirming your commitment to 8. Go. Sing.
    1. Continue following the clues and report back. Keep us posted. This process may take days, weeks, months, or years, but set it in motion now and see where you’re at in one year, five years, and ten years. Remember—the best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The second best time is now.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • 4 Important Reasons to "Keep Coming Back" to AA, Even When We Don't Need To

    4 Important Reasons to "Keep Coming Back" to AA, Even When We Don't Need To

    Don’t underestimate just how powerful your presence at a 12-step meeting can be for another person’s recovery.

    More than I care to admit, my usual 12-step meeting times will pop up on my calendar and I’ll think to myself, “Can I get away with skipping this one?”

    A lot of folks in the rooms will tell you that you shouldn’t skip meetings because relapse happens when we get lax in recovery. You get out of recovery what you invest into it, and the practice of consistently showing up makes your program stronger.

    I don’t disagree with that. But even so, when I’m having a good day, going to a meeting sounds like a drag — and one meeting, I figure, is not going to make or break my sobriety.

    Besides, I’ve earned a break, haven’t I?

    There are four simple words that snap me back into reality, though: It’s not about you.

    Put another way, we show up to these meetings because we’re building a community of support. But when we feel the temptation to not show up, it’s easy to forget the bigger picture.

    So why go to that meeting, even when your recovery doesn’t depend on it? It’s pretty simple: recovery is about so much more than not picking up a drink. The next time you’re thinking about missing out on a meeting, consider these four reasons why showing up still matters.

    1. Someone might need your presence or your story.

    You might be the one familiar face in the room that reminds someone that they’re in the right place. Something that you share might be exactly what someone else needs to hear. You never know what your presence is bringing to the table — and how valuable it might be to someone else.

    When I finally went back to AA after two years of relapses and denial, I can’t express just how comforting it was to see people I could remember. They were still there (and amazingly, still sober) and genuinely happy to see me again.

    Their presence was a reminder that AA wasn’t just a gathering place for sad drunks — it was a community. It was a place where warmth, compassion, and laughter could always be found. At times, it was really the only place where I could laugh.

    Many of us arrive at our first meetings unsure of what we’ll find and afraid to speak up. And often times it was hearing “our story” — seeing ourselves and our struggles in someone else’s share — that gave us the strength to keep coming back and truly commit to our recovery.

    Despite numerous therapists, social workers, and loved ones urging me to get help, the only thing that pulled me from my deep state of denial was listening to other alcoholics. As one old-timer explained to me, “This fellowship is the only mirror in which I can see myself clearly.”

    To this day, I can remember those people’s stories, even if they never noticed me hiding in the back of the room. They may have spoken casually without any thought of reaching anyone, but their words had an unforgettable impact on me.

    Tonight, someone might show up to the rooms, not sure if they belong or if they want to stay. Your smile, your energy, or your words could be the anchor that grounds them. Don’t underestimate just how powerful your presence can be for another person’s recovery.

    2. 12-step meetings can only thrive if everyone commits to showing up.

    Think about it: if we only showed up when we were feeling terrible, what would meetings look like, exactly? They’d be pretty dismal places. There’d be experiences to share — but where would the strength and hope come from?

    On chip nights, when I saw members getting their chips for five, ten, even twenty years, I used to wonder why they bothered to show up. “Do they really think they’re going to slip up at this point?” It’s true, they might, but when I listened to the responsibility statement, I realized that it wasn’t just for them. They showed up for the fellowship, and for the alcoholic who still suffers. Their presence was an act of gratitude.

    Members who show up consistently, even and especially when they don’t “need” to, are the heart and soul of 12-step meetings. The program only truly works when people are willing to build a lasting community together.

    AA isn’t just the couch you crash on when you’re down on your luck; these rooms represent a safe haven that should always be there, and will be — as long as we keep coming back.

    3. Sobriety is an ongoing practice — not a destination.

    I’ve often joked that alcoholism is a form of amnesia, but there’s some truth to that, too. Without a consistent practice — in which we repeatedly confront, accept, and reflect on our condition, while building up the coping skills needed to manage our lives — it’s all too easy to return to our old ways.

    I don’t know about you, but my old ways weren’t exactly charming.

    I could be resentful, self-centered, and impulsive. Like many alcoholics, I’ve fooled myself into thinking I had more power over situations than I actually did. I’ve been the bull in the china shop, barreling my way through life. I much prefer the acceptance, grace, and warmth that I work hard to embody today.

    Left to my own devices, though? I fall out of the routine that helps me sustain my recovery and keeps me accountable. The resentments start to pile up. My stubbornness comes to the surface. My sense of gratitude diminishes.

    Sobriety is not a point at which you arrive. Personal growth is a direction we move in — not a finish line we cross. Think of a fellowship, then, as your compass, helping to direct that growth.

    Sobriety is a practice, and when we regularly attend meetings, we flex the muscles needed to strengthen and maintain our coping skills. The more we flex those muscles, the more intuitive those skills become. And as the Ninth Step Promises state, we “intuitively know how to deal with situations that used to baffle us.”

    Developing that intuition means reinforcing it, and meetings are a consistent and reliable way of doing this, with a community that supports you unconditionally through that process.

    4. Joy is an incredible contribution.

    I’m an optimist and an extrovert by nature. When I first started attending meetings, I very seriously wondered if my personality would be “too much” for a space like AA. Was I too happy? Would my upbeat nature be grating in such an emotionally-vulnerable space?

    But each time I shared my experiences, there was a chorus of gratitude that followed — the energy that I brought to the rooms was appreciated and seen. That’s when I finally understood something: authentic joy is an amazing gift to bring to my community.

    So when I’m especially happy on any given day? I make an extra effort to show up to meetings. I let my smile signal to others that there is joy in sobriety. I let my laugh remind newcomers that there are better days ahead.

    And I let my excitement and enthusiasm lift up those around me, especially those who might be wondering if there is a place for them in AA. When I show up authentically, it allows others to do the same. It makes those rooms a more welcoming place.

    I may not feel motivated on a given day to show up to a meeting. But when I can’t show up for myself, I do it for my community.

    And inevitably, when I do, my joy only seems to multiply. It seems that — at least in 12-step programs — what you give to others always comes back to you in spades.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • All My Friends Are Junkies

    All My Friends Are Junkies

    Once we switched our attention away from getting high and learned how to stay sober, we quickly realized that if we put at least one percent of the same effort it took to get trashed into other areas of our lives, the results were astronomical.

    All of my friends—each and every last one of them—are junkies. I’m not talking about your run-of-the-mill junkie. You know the one: steals your purse and helps you look for it. No not that kind. Not even the one that bangs four bags of boy then tells you five minutes later that they’re dopesick so you help them out by splitting your shit. Not that type of junkie. I mean yeah, they meet that criteria, but I’m talking about the other type, the been-there-done-that kind of junkie.

    All of my friends have been to hell and back. They’re the type of junkie that society labels as hopeless. But for whatever reason, they’ve found a way out of their living hell and have begun living and pursuing a life worthwhile, a life greater than anything imaginable. Any goal they set, anything they dream of, it comes to fruition and then some! It’s unbelievable, very encouraging, and, from my experience, it’s very contagious. Words like: seductive, attractive, inviting, enticing, alluring and captivating come to mind.

    They’ve entered into a lifestyle that appears to be nothing but hope to any outsider looking in. So much so, even “normies” wonder what the fuck my friends are on. It’s next-level type shit.

    I bet you’re wondering why I still refer to my friends as junkies if they no longer get fucked up. It’s a valid question. Why would someone call their friend a junkie when they have years sober? Why would someone use a word that carries such a bad connotation when describing another individual that they themselves currently see as the opposite of that word? Why the hell does Walmart only keep two check-out aisles open on a Saturday afternoon?!

    To answer that first question, let’s break down the word “junkie.”

    According to Webster:

    Junkie

    noun |  junk·ie | \ ˈjəŋ-kē \

    1. a narcotics peddler or addict
    2. a person who gets an unusual amount of pleasure from or has an unusual amount of interest in something

    Okay, that first definition sounds about right. My friends sure as hell qualify as addicts/alcoholics. They also know how to acquire and distribute their drug-of-choice quite successfully until that dreaded day comes where they break the cardinal rule, “don’t get high on your own supply.” If you’re a junkie like me, then you know we have another term for that rule: “mission impossible.”

    Now, let’s take a look at what good ol’ Webby had to say in that second definition: A person who gets an unusual amount of pleasure from or has an unusual amount of interest in something. Sexy, right? Did you hear it? Did you relate when the word “unusual” appeared twice in that definition? Did something deep inside you begin to stir when the words “pleasure” and “interest” hit your shot-out way of thinking?

    I hope so. If you’re fucked up the way I am, then you felt something. I also know from a personal collective experience that once my friends and I got sober, the world became our oyster. What I mean by that is, once we switched our attention away from getting high and learned how to stay sober, we quickly realized that if we put at least one percent of the same effort it took to get trashed into other areas of our lives, the results were astronomical. It’s like a one thousand percent return on our investment. Crazy, right? Sure. Sounds like bullshit? Fuck yeah it does. It took me a while to grasp it, understand it, appreciate it and then cultivate it.

    When I see the word “unusual” appear in that definition I can’t help but laugh. I know that my friends and I—or any junkie I know, for that matter—are far from normal. When I think about “pleasure” and “interest,” I think about all the dreams that I had shit on in the past as a result of the bridges I burned. Now, those dreams have come back, I have goals that appear to be attainable, relationships that bring my life an overwhelming amount of joy, and opportunities to take part in unimaginable endeavors. Sound good? Sign me up!

    I geek out over music. Since my money ain’t going to the dope man anymore, I’ve been able to create some really dope recovery-based music. I’m a music junkie. And I got friends that have turned their attention to their physical health and wellness, and they’re seeing amazing results. They’re fitness junkies. I got this one friend who’s got the “lick” on all the best spots to eat around town. I mean you can pick an ethnicity, voice your preference and he’s got a spot for you. My little, hipster, foodie junkie. He’s adorable.

    Do you get it now? My friends and I are still junkies. We find ridiculous amounts of pleasure doing the things we love and pursuing the things that interest us. We enjoy it so much that you might call it unusual. Crazy ass ex-dopefiends turned into super-cool people. 

    I know we all have a million stories of where we’ve been and what we’ve done to get high and stay high. I know what it’s like to be in rehab and exchange “war stories” with the guy next to me. After a while it gets old. If you’re a repeat offender like me, then you know it gets old really fast when you check back in and hear the same shit again. It’s the same story with a different face. I get it.

    Having said all that, I want to let you in on a little secret: I’ve solved my existential crisis that I’ve always run into when trying to stay sober. I never found my purpose before, that “something” that brings me an unusual amount of pleasure… until now.

    It’s in these stories. It’s in the telling you, the reader, what my junkie friends and I have done, where we’ve been, what we’ve seen, what we’ve felt, how we’ve died, how we’ve lived, how we’ve found relief, how we’ve recovered, how we’ve relapsed, how we’ve come back and how we’ve survived one day at a time. If The Fix allows it, I’d love to share with you some of these “ghost stories,” as I lovingly refer to them these days. It would bring me an unusual amount of pleasure to get some of this shit off my chest and outta my head.

    I want to let you into my world, tell you why “All My Friends Are Junkies” (and I’m pretty sure all your friends are, too). I want to take you through drug court, through my first time in “the rooms,” through my first love in recovery, through that heartbreak, through that first relapse after believing I’d be a one-chip-wonder. I want to take you through that probation violation, that geographical change I thought would help, and holy shit, I want to bring you to that six-month inpatient rehab I went to that turned into a 13 month stay, the place I “loved so much” that I went back for another six months. I want to tell you about the relationships I made in these places, the fun we had, the crazy cool road trips we took. I want to tell you about all the musical gigs and the junkies I met there. I feel like recovery has brought me around the world while my lifestyle of addiction brought me to the deepest darkest areas of Satan’s ass crack. I want to tell you about that too.

    So for now, I’ll leave you with this: If no one told you today that they love you, fuck it, there’s always tomorrow.

    Check back next week for the first Ghost Story, “A Dopeman’s Grocery List.”

    View the original article at thefix.com