Tag: SLAA

  • How to Keep Your New Year's Resolutions, Ten Minutes at a Time

    How to Keep Your New Year's Resolutions, Ten Minutes at a Time

    You can keep your New Year’s resolutions just by devoting ten minutes to certain simple daily tasks. I’ve seen people build websites in 10-minute increments, write screenplays, do taxes, and even date!

    I want to work out more. I want to lose five pounds. I want to drink less. Have better relationships. I used to love making New Year’s resolutions. I would write my list, check it twice, and write another one, and another, and another. I loved writing lists. It made me feel productive, organized, on top of things; in control. I can’t tell you how many lists I wrote that had “drink less” on it. Or “save money.” “Get in better shape.” I wanted to be perfect because I thought that would get rid of the anxiety and the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

    The only thing that worked for me was recovery. AA, DA, SLAA, and Alanon have become my cocktail of choice. But as they say, “program” is not self-improvement, it’s self-acceptance and, of course, surrender.

    I was talking to a friend yesterday who was chowing down the candy at a SLAA holiday potluck. She laughingly said she was out of control. She’s in a few programs and goes to OA occasionally; she’s not sure she really identifies.

    “I really want to lose some weight this year,” she said. I asked if she tried Weight Watchers because it seemed to work for some people.

    “I’ve tried everything. The only thing that works for me is self-will. It may not sound program to say that, but it’s true. I just set my mind to it and I can control my food and lose weight. All on the strength of will.” She helps herself to another cookie.

    “Is it sustainable?” I ask.

    She looks at me then sighs. “No. It works for a time – even a long time, but then eventually I give up.”

    I understood. I tried to quit drinking or “drink responsibly” so many times and then, like my friend, eventually gave up and went back. I could not do it on my own will. Some people can. And based on un-scientific observation, a few of them are sorta happy and not complete assholes. I have a friend who quit drinking without any program in his 20’s and never looked back. He may be a little workaholic-y (not like I’m taking his inventory or anything) but he seems pretty happy, and not, as they say, “dry.”

    I can’t speak for other people’s process, but I can say that now that I’ve found recovery, I don’t drink (aka I’m sober), I have an IRA, and I don’t use unsecured debt. In terms of SLAA, I don’t have sex outside of a committed relationship. I also meditate regularly and exercise maybe three times a week, sometimes more, sometimes less.

    I still do love the illusion of being “perfect” but I have to admit that as I get older, or perhaps accumulate more time in recovery, it compels me less. When I first got sober, I would think of myself conceptually, like I was a conceptual art piece. It wasn’t conscious and it was only in retrospect that I noticed it. It was like I was outside my body and I looked at myself like a piece of clay that I wanted to mold. It was an idea of me. Just like I had an idea of who my boyfriend was, or what our relationship was going to be or “should” be. Or just like I had an idea of who my dad was supposed to be. Or what life should be like. They were all concepts. Ideas. Fantasies. And they all were outside of me. From me, but looking in from the outside.

    I am learning to trust myself more. I think that’s hard for an addict. That still small voice – is it safe to trust her? But as I get to know the lay of the land of my dis-ease and recovery, and I do it within a community, I find that, yeah, I can trust her and wow, I can maybe even trust life. And if I want to make sure that life doesn’t get dry and brittle, I’d better start listening to that inner voice because that voice is deeply connected to my higher power. And that higher power is intrinsically linked to the life around me.

    And to that end (here come the lists!):

    I want to be more present
    Find work that is more rewarding
    Reconnect to my creativity
    Date in a fun and juicy way
    Furnish my new apartment
    Continue to expand my community
    Volunteer

    So how do I do it?

    In my local Debtors Anonymous, a guy named Chris created the DA Tools Game. It is brilliant. Everyone gets into teams of about four and you play for four weeks against the other teams. The team with the most points wins. You gain points by taking four daily actions. And each action you do for exactly ten minutes, not more, not less.

    The first action is making an outreach call to one of your team members to check in. The second action is spiritual/financial (which is usually recording what you spent your money on or opening your bills, etc.) The third action is self-care (stretching, taking a walk, listening to music). The fourth action is income expansion so that can be sending out a résumé, following up on a lead, or updating your website. Once you choose what your action is going to be, you have to commit to it for the whole month otherwise you lose points. This is to avoid the monkey mind that wants to switch things up all the time – especially when things feel uncomfortable. So if you choose taking a short walk as your self-care action, you can’t, after week one, switch it to yoga – unless you check in with your team first. And the consequence is losing 100 points (ouch!).

    The brilliance of this game is that you get to see how much can be accomplished in ten-minute segments each day. Some people will have decluttering as their self-care action and will spend the ten minutes every day that month decluttering their home office and then, lo and behold, they find themselves in a new relationship, or career path, or, at the very least, a clean office! The phone calls keep us accountable and provide support. I’ve seen people build a website in ten-minute increments, write a screenplay, do their taxes, and even date!

    Every action gets 25 points so if you do all your actions in a day, you get 100 points and the team with the most points at the end of the month wins. It’s a great way to accelerate one’s recovery: “Just for today, I will do my numbers for ten minutes. Just for today, I will work on my résumé…for ten minutes. Just for today, I will listen to music. Just for today, I will make a phone call to a fellow.” It cuts right through the obsession of perfection, the obsession of self-will, procrastination, and isolation.

    Granted, there are those who are able, through the sheer force of their own will, to change their lives. There are a ton of YouTubers talking all about that. I think that’s awesome. But that has never worked for me. And when it did (for a time), I was not a very fun person to be around. There wasn’t much room for intimacy when I was like that.

    But just for today… I will not drink. I will not debt. I will not act out. I will call a fellow. I will meditate. I will take actions to increase my earnings. And other “top line” behaviors (as they say in SLAA) would be: having fun, dancing, singing, going to yoga, cooking, sponsoring, being sponsored, doing the steps, reading literature, and practicing gratitude. A lot of those actions were on previous New Year’s resolution lists but, prior to recovery, the chance that they would become a part of my life was close to zero. 

    Let me know your thoughts on how your life has changed and what resolutions you’ve made in the past or want to make today. I would love to hear your experiences with this stuff because there are as many approaches as there are people. Let me know in the comments.

    And Happy New Year! Happy New Day.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Dating While (Newly) Sober

    Dating While (Newly) Sober

    When my sponsor told me about the suggestion to not date for a year, that I should just concentrate on getting sober, I said: “I’m a really good multi-tasker.”

    I thought that when I got sober, I’d get into the best shape of my life, start going to the gym all the time, train for a triathlon, become super successful and meet the man of my dreams. Basically, my version of what advertising says is the perfect life. I wasn’t thinking along the lines of what some people say: the gift of sobriety IS sobriety. Boring. I mean, I was and I wasn’t; I mostly just wanted to stop being miserable. I did a 90 and 90, got a sponsor, joined a gym, took a class in my career of choice, slept a lot, and met a guy.

    When my sponsor told me about the suggestion to not date for a year, that I should just concentrate on getting sober, I said: “I’m a really good multi-tasker,” and “I can get sober and date at the same time.” Luckily for me, she didn’t say it was a rule, because there are no rules in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. Nowhere in the Big Book does it say: “no dating allowed in the first year.” It just talked about some people prefer a little more pepper in their sex life or whatever (page 69) and who are we to tell people what spices to proverbially cook with?

    So thank god for that because in my first 90 days, I met a guy. He was a friend of a friend and when we met, he told me that he was going through a big transition in his life.

    “What kind of a transition?” I asked, while thinking Oh my God! We have so much in common! We’re both going through transitions! As if a relationship could be built on that alone. Or even a marriage, because I thought that now that I had opened the book of sobriety, everything would change in the blink of an eye. It would be like I just woke up to a new life. That’s how it happens, right? I mean, don’t you kinda hear that all the time? The person’s life was shit and then they got sober and now they’re in this awesome marriage/job/house/car/babies and it all like happened in a year or maybe two? I’m smart and attractive. That shit should happen for me too! I can make that happen. I. CAN. MAKE. THAT. HAPPEN. Higher power who?

    So, when I asked the guy what kind of transition, he said poetically, “It’s like my house was taken away so now I have no house, but at least I can see the moon.” And I was like “Wow, coooooool. I totally love the moon.”

    For our first date, we went on a bike ride along the river, had lunch where I did not order a glass of wine (the first time that has ever happened) and ordered a coffee instead. I didn’t tell him that I was newly sober. I just told him I didn’t drink, and he said that was cool and he’s thought that maybe he should quite drinking too (uh oh); that he meditates and when he meditates, he feels super clear and drinking gets in the way of that (uh yeah). Then he walked me home and I remember feeling very sensitive and insecure. It was like I was eight years old again with a crush on a boy at school and I forgot how to walk my bike. Or talk. I felt awkward. Which is why, at 16, drinking and boys went hand in hand. Less feeling. More yay.

    When I got home, I realized there was no way I could date right now. I knew that if I was rejected or even felt rejected, it would probably cause me to drink. I didn’t have the emotional tools. I talked to my sponsor about it and then called him up and said, “I really like you, but I’m going through something right now where I need to take a year off of dating. I hope you understand.” And he said, “Wow. I should probably do that, too.” Turns out he was going through a divorce and was in no place to be in a relationship or be the man of my dreams/dysfunction right now.

    For the rest of the year, I concentrated on going to meetings, fellowship, making new AA friends, eating cookies and milk, binge watching Netflix at night, and it was the most awesome/horrible year of my life. I highly recommend it. I gained 10 or 20 pounds which was weird. Dudes can go through a rough time and get fat and grow a beard and still be considered likeable — but as a woman, it’s harder to hide behind a beard and 50 pounds and be cool. But a girl can dream.

    So, a year later, guess who I ran into? No-house-moon dude. And yay! I was like a year sober so totally awesome and fixed, right? It. Was. On. We went on a few dates, and I honestly can’t remember if we had sex. It was only seven years ago and I know we did sexy things but I cannot for the life of me remember. I don’t think we did, because we would have needed to have the talk and well, let’s just say that the time I chose to have the talk was not a good time to have it. Take it from me when I say DO NOT ATTEMPT TO HAVE THE TALK WHEN HIS HEAD IS BETWEEN YOUR LEGS. That should be in the Big Book. It’s a real buzz kill for one and all. And our relationship (if you can call it that) ended shortly thereafter which was okay because he was seriously still mourning the loss of his ten-year marriage.

    So that’s my take on dating in the first year. I do know a couple people who hooked up in their first year of sobriety and 30 years later are still married. That might happen to you. I knew that wasn’t going to happen for me. It wasn’t until year two that I met the man of my dreams AKA qualifier who really brought me to my knees (not in a good way) and into Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous which is like the nicest thing a guy can do. Kidding. But not in a way because Girrrrrrrl, I needed some of that SLAA in my life. Since then, I’ve moved to a place that I am happy to call home, am “healthy” dating and more will be revealed. But the best thing is that I like myself – dare I say love myself? I love my friends, my career, and my life and I don’t expect a man or any person or thing to save me. Because I don’t need saving any more. Thank god. Thank HP. Thank program. And thank you.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • How I Conquered My Relationship Insecurity

    How I Conquered My Relationship Insecurity

    I didn’t engage in behaviors like calling or texting multiple times—if anything, I did the opposite, out of fear of being perceived as needy—but the thoughts alone, their irrationality and all-consuming anxiety, caused me a lot of pain.

    Fear of abandonment, jealousy, and general insecurity in romantic relationships leads many in the dating scene to be labeled the dreaded “needy.” It’s a pejorative that’s especially used to describe women, an insult that dismisses someone as being “crazy” for simply needing reassurance and consistent contact. Of course, men can suffer from the “needy” label too, but they often fall into the “unavailable” camp—aloof, distant, indifferent, and detached, which can quickly earn them the title “asshole.” Sadly, most folks don’t know the roots of these behaviors, so we’re left throwing insults at fellow daters rather than understanding that these traits date back to childhood.

    For years I thought I didn’t fall into the “needy” camp. Many of my past relationships were with men who bordered on needy themselves, so I never needed to feel insecure—if anything, they were the insecure ones, always vying for my time and attention. There was little reason to fear abandonment. It wasn’t until this past year that I discovered that if I’m invested in someone who is a bit more independent, my anxiety and fear of rejection can become nearly intolerable.

    Enter the man who is now my partner, Matthew*. The day after our first date, he sent me a very sweet text complimenting both my personality and appearance while adding that he would love to see me again, and soon. Just a few days later, we had our second date, and a few days after that, our third, and by that time I realized I could really fall for him.

    After our fourth date, I was officially hooked, and that’s when the anxiety hit. Now I was invested, and that meant that if a few days passed and I didn’t hear from him, I assumed he was over it. And I was so terrified of seeming needy that I rarely initiated a text. When I did, it would sometimes take hours for him to respond; that’s just his nature, being a very busy person, but when he didn’t respond right away, I’d once again assume he was over it. Despite all the fear, I’d always hear from him, often with a “Sorry, hun, wish I could have gotten back to you sooner!” text.

    At the time, I thought I was going slightly crazy. Part of me knew I was just being paranoid, and part of me kept buying into the irrational thoughts telling me that he was going to drop me. I knew that ghosters—people who vanish from seemingly stable dating scenarios for no reason whatsoever—were everywhere. But Matthew hadn’t given me any reason to think he might leave; all of his words and actions displayed evidence that he wasn’t going anywhere. Still, I worried and worried—every day waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Matthew to show some sign of disinterest.

    I comforted myself with thoughts like “Once we’re exclusive, this anxiety will go away.” Well, we became exclusive, and the anxiety did not go away. Even after he said “I love you,” I was still fixated on the fear that he would leave. No, I didn’t engage in “crazy” behaviors like calling or texting multiple times—if anything, I did the opposite, out of fear of being perceived as needy—but the thoughts alone, their irrationality and all-consuming anxiety, caused me a lot of pain.

    The pain prompted me to do some research on relationship insecurity—I had to know what the hell was wrong with me. That’s when I learned about attachment styles and the important role they play in romantic relationships. My fear of abandonment is a classic sign of an anxious attachment.

    British psychologist John Bowlby began exploring what he termed attachment theory in the 1960’s, and he conducted further research alongside psychologist Mary Ainsworth throughout the second half of the 20th century. According to Bowlby, the ways in which primary caregivers relate to infants and children greatly influence how they relate to others in their adult lives. Contemporary psychologists have expanded on Bowlby’s theory, many writing about the huge impact our attachment styles have on our romantic relationships and even how we perform at work. There’s also a study underway to determine what role, if any, attachment styles play in opioid addiction.

    Attachment theory posits that adults with secure attachment styles—around 50 percent of the population—had parents who were attentive, nurturing, calm, and, most importantly, consistent in this behavior. Those with anxious attachment styles usually had caregivers who were inconsistent, sometimes attentive, loving, and nurturing, and at other times distracted, distant, cold, or unresponsive to the child’s needs. Anxious attachments can also result from having overly-anxious or intrusive caregivers (this is probably how I wound up with an anxious attachment, as my mother often became too worried that something bad might happen to me.) Children who grew up with mostly aloof and detached parents typically wind up with an avoidant attachment style, those who crave intimacy but push it away out of fear.

    Unfortunately, people with anxious attachment styles often gravitate to those with avoidant attachment styles, and vice versa, and this causes all sorts of heartache. Those who have secure attachment patterns are often already paired up—they’re the folks who are content in long-term relationships and forging lasting intimate bonds. This explains why spending lots of time on dating apps can sometimes lead to crushed hopes over and over again. If all the healthy folks are already in relationships, what’s left are a lot of people who may have some emotional baggage that begs sorting through.

    If you’ve ever attended a SLAA meeting, you’ve probably heard of the “love addict” and the “love avoidant.” In many ways, the love addict mirrors someone with an anxious attachment style—the deep need for connection and intimacy is a quality inherent in both personality types. Naturally, the “love avoidant” described in SLAA mirrors the avoidant attachment style.

    According to SLAA philosophy, the antidote to love addiction or love avoidance is the 12 steps, steps that require faith in a power greater than oneself, the admitting of character defects, and turning over one’s will to God as we understand Him. Though I’m not anti-SLAA per se, I do find it interesting that the terms “love addict” and “love avoidant” actually have roots in psychological theory, so the cause of the insecurity may have less to do with character defects and more to do with the way we were parented.

    Though an insecure attachment style may sound like a curse for anyone who’s looking for long-term love, there’s good news: anyone can change their insecure attachment style to a secure one through psychodynamic therapy, being in a healthy relationship with a securely-attached partner, and also by becoming a parent.

    It took a combo of consistent psychodynamic therapy and my relationship with Matthew, who has a secure attachment style, to help ease all of my anxieties. They haven’t gone away completely, but I have seen demonstrable improvement since I started working on them. I realized how far I’d come when he took a second business trip for a few days. The first time this happened, I grew anxious when I didn’t hear from him; this time when he went out of town, I didn’t fret once during his entire week away. Sure, I missed him, especially since we’re now living together, but I wasn’t ruminating on the idea that he would never return, and I actually ended up having a great week just hanging out with my friends.

    For someone with an anxious attachment style, behavior like calling or texting the object of their affection repeatedly throughout the day, or prying into their personal business, can emerge. Not surprisingly, all these attempts at reassurance turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy—they push the other person away. If the partner is avoidant, he or she can get angry, dismissing the anxious person’s needs. If the partner is securely attached, they are more likely to be reassuring, but not if the behavior is continually hostile, accusatory, or pathological. In the event that this behavior surfaces, odds are the securely-attached partner will withdraw.

    Though I didn’t engage in destructive behaviors with Matthew, my anxiety did reach a point where I had to share this struggle with him. There was no way around it—if I didn’t open up about my insecurities, which were causing me so much psychological pain, then I feared a wedge would stand between us, creating distance. What’s the point of being in a relationship if you can’t unload all your fears on your partner?

    I felt humiliated voicing my insecurity to him for the first time, which happened right as I started therapy, about six months into our relationship. Admitting to him that I was often preoccupied with the status of our relationship rather than prancing around Los Angeles “doing me” with a big fulfilled smile across my face, loving life and living big, which, apparently, is what single people are supposed to do at all times in order to be happy and to find a partner, terrified me. I figured fessing up would scare him and push him away.

    But Matthew was very reassuring. He told me: “Your needs are your needs, and there’s nothing wrong with them.” He did explicitly state that it’s up to me to find emotional balance when I get anxious, but he’ll meet me halfway as best he can if I need a little extra reassurance. On my end, I’ve had to learn to tolerate my anxiety, to sit with it and surrender my need for control. Since Matthew’s an introvert, he tends to withdraw when overwhelmed, which can come across as distant. This can certainly make me anxious, but I have had to learn to surrender my fears of being rejected and abandoned. At this stage, when I do get anxious, I have to resort to a kind of Buddhist mentality—nothing is permanent, I have no control over Matthew or over the longevity of our relationship, and everything will be okay even if things do end.

    It’s remarkable progress that I doubt I would have made without facing my insecure attachment head-on.

    View the original article at thefix.com