This is day two of feeling nothing. Yesterday, I opined that I didn’t feel good or bad; that neither emotion was making itself known, and that I was okay with it. I mean, isn’t the point of peacefulness not to run to extremes? Shouldn’t I be striving for that comfortable middle ground, where outside circumstances aren’t interfering with my serenity?
Step Twelve: having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
In theory, that all sounds wonderful, but the thing is, I lied yesterday. Feeling nothing doesn’t register as nothing: it registers as bad, negative, failure. I’m forever judging my attitudes and emotions. There’s a whole bunch of “supposed to’s” in my head, and whenever my actions don’t jibe with what I think is right, depression follows. The general malaise of foggy emptiness rolls in and I’m stuck inside another self-made sarcophagus filled with pity, and I start doubting that I’ll ever get this program.
So, what I’m hearing myself say is that I need to focus, pray, meditate and apply the Serenity Prayer to situations that normally wouldn’t warrent such introspection in the past. Nothing, for me, is a warning sign.
As is so often the case with the Twelve Steps, what I need to do is the last thing I want to do: engage. Get involved. Though I don’t like interaction, it’s essential to my sobriety. The longer I hole up in my own head, the worse I am when I step outside. Other people, for good or ill, keep me involved. Connecting with someone, just talking about their weekend, then my weekend, is all that’s required to bring me back into the world: one I haven’t mutated into a giant mass of black.
Today: Be part of what’s going on around me. Whether I like it or not, it’s healthier than crazy-brain isolation.