3.6.2024 Broken Promises and First Steps

He carries around the 30 day chip I received when I went to a 30 day alcohol treatment program in April 2019. I had given it to him last year, promising him Mommy wouldn’t drink anymore, that Hurricane Jenni wouldn’t be wreaking havoc anymore. I didn’t think he realized the significance until today, when his father told me he still has it, and my son knows all too well exactly what I have done.

The idea of letting him down like this, the broken promises, weighs on me. I’ve already written about this, and I know now after going to 6 meetings (4 AA, 2 NA) yesterday and today, that the only thing that matters right now is that I see that I am worth fighting for, and that no one is coming to save me from myself. Nor should they.

I thought I could get healthy for my sons, but over the last 5 years, I’m realizing until I do it for me, it won’t stick.

One speaker tonight said the first three words on page 112 of the Big Book are all I need to do. So here in this cozy studio Air BNB in downtown Bangor, a room and a bathroom that reminds me of my room in my Dad’s basement, I can almost pretend like I’m back in Montana, close to the ones I love…I’m ready to learn what I have to do.

I flip to page 112. Well, that’s simple enough. I flip to Chapter 5, “How It Works” and read Step One. “We admitted w were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.”

How am I really doing in life. Well, I have no vehicle. Technically I’m homeless, but I have a little money saved up from working. That won’t last forever. I am epically failing as an adult.

I think back to my life when I started drinking heavily. I was married, lived in a nice house on 80 acres in Montana, had a good job with steady income, and had had my own vehicle since I was in high school. I was checking all the boxes. For some reason I self sabotaged everything, digging a hole deeper and deeper, to today.

So maybe the first step is to stop digging. I know I’ve hit rock bottom, yet I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can’t help thinking about the parable of the donkey stuck in a hole:

One day, an old donkey fell down into a deep hole. The animal couldn’t get out, and the farmer tried his best to figure out how to get his donkey out of the hole but he also couldn’t. Finally, the farmer gave up and decided to bury his donkey alive in the hole. 

The farmer called a few friends to come over and help him burying the donkey. They all started shoveling dirt into the hole.

After a while, they stopped to take some rest, and they were all surprised to see that, whenever dirt was piling up on the donkey’s back, the donkey would shake it off and take a step up. They all continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, as the donkey continued to shake dirt off its back, then take a step up. After a few minutes, as more dirt was filling the hole, the donkey was able to step up over the edge of the hole and got free. 

During our life, as we go through some difficulties, we should always figure out how to get over difficulties and move on. We should never give up, and we should never allow challenges to discourage us. 

I realized I need to self report to my Board of Nursing. I resigned from my ER position in anticipation of moving to Montana, and I was sober when I worked, but the moment I got out of work at 6am most of the time I was looking forward to getting high on my days off. I need this accountability, and if I’m honest, no one can shame me, including myself.

I signed up to volunteer at the Barn, as it’s called, for Sunday, which happens to be St Patrick’s Day. They’re holding a speaker jam, where people share their stories. The man who runs the volunteers said he’ll help me get into a sober living house…paying $1500 for an Air BnB for the month is too pricey, and I like the idea of being able to form more connections.

The meetings give me a purpose, and it’s like the Universe is speaking to me through these people I’m encountering, encouraging me, inspiring me.

As for my first step out of this hole, I can honestly say I am Jenni, and I am an alcholic/addict. I anesthetized my anxiety with alcohol, and abused cough syrup, marijuana, LSD, whatever hallucinogenic I could get my hands on to get high. I thought it made me more creative, more closer to God. When I was high it was like God was so close I could touch the Presence, but now I know that chasing that high meant losing touch with reality, with everything that grounds me and makes me truly happy.

I think better when I write, and honestly I hope a year from now I can come back to my writings and realize how far I’ve come.

If anyone wants to find an AA meeting near them, click this link: Find A.A. Near You | Alcoholics Anonymous (aa.org)

If someone you love is struggling with addiction, and you would like someone to talk to, click here: Al-Anon Meeting Search - Al-Anon Family Groups

So much love and appreciation to you, for sticking with me this far. <3

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