I’ve Been Praying to a Higher Power to Let Go

It's kind of working

I’ve been praying a lot lately. I was never very religious or spiritual but It’s growing on me.

I think it’s an important step in letting go and surviving the randomness of life.

By giving it all up to some form of higher power we can let go of all the things we can’t control instead of worrying about them constantly, thinking it will somehow give us power over the unknown.

I’ve always had trouble with this and I recently learned I know absolutely nothing about this stuff so I’m opening my mind and I’m accepting new ideas into my life.

I don’t really know where I started, where I’m going, or where I’ll end up with this but I guess nobody’s spiritual path is the same.

There is no guidebook despite all the ones that have been written.

How has spirituality affected your life? I’d love to know how it helped you, what you practice, or anything at all.

This video makes me want to cry. It’s Richard Feynman talking about beauty and how science is beauty and there’s a spiritual element to it. It’s a beautiful video. You can hear the excitement in his voice and it reminds me of a child lit up with excitement.

“I think it’s more interesting to live not knowing than to have answers that might be wrong!” - Richard Feynman

I hope you enjoy :)

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A Silly Online Collectible Card Game Is Giving Me Peace

Thats right! Hearthstone is saving me daily

If you have depression you know how hard the mornings are, and the days and nights.

But getting out of bed in the morning is especially hard.

But this silly little game. I found that if I get out of bed, wash my face, hop on the PC with a coffee and play a game, I’m ready to face the day.

I don’t know why. Maybe it gets my day off to a happy silly little start which just boosts my mood.

They also say showing up is half the battle. So maybe just getting up at the computer ready to do something is my way of showing up.

I don’t just wake up and game all day either. After a game or two, I’ll go to a meeting, work out, write, or do something productive and have fun with it.

Do you guys have anything like that that works for you? Maybe it’s just getting up with a coffee and writing that gets your mojo going in the morning.

In the summer it used to be coffee outdoors with the dog at 6 AM but those days are gone as we are in the middle of crappy Canadian weather.

What gets you out of bed in the morning?

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My Story Of Addiction For New Subscribers

This is a copy of an earlier post but I think it’s important to look back on where Alcohol takes me so I don’t go back and I can appreciate how far I’ve come

Pat vs Addiction

I guess I always did have a problem with alcohol. The first time I ever drank at a young age led to a blackout. So did most of the other times when I came to think about it.

I suspect genetics, bad choices, and a little childhood trauma mixed with an addictive personality are to blame here, but who really knows?

I guess it doesn’t really matter, I just have to deal with it now.

In high school, alcohol was a way for me to feel “normal” at parties. I had always felt quite awkward in social situations, and alcohol completely rid me of all self-consciousness. It felt like the missing piece to the puzzle. I could go have fun without the awful social anxiety that plagued me.

This lasted into my early twenties and was exacerbated by the university lifestyle. Sure, I was always getting too drunk, but drinking felt like a competition in those days, and I was good at it. If I wasn’t out at a bar or house party, alcohol was still always on my mind.

Life was a series of parties with this depressing and boring part I had to go through until the next opportunity to drink. I remember wondering how people could have fun without drinking. I had lost that ability somewhere along the way. I lost interest in all other things. My life started to revolve around alcohol.

A catalyst for the progression of my addiction was when I realized all of the shame, guilt, and sickness from heavy drinking the night before could be cast away with a few drinks the next morning. This is kind of when I lost the “off” button for my drinking. I eventually realized alcohol was just borrowing happiness from the next day and I had accumulated a significant amount of debt.

As this went on, alcohol robbed me of any ambition I had left. Work became something I did to pay for alcohol. I didn’t progress in my work life; I was stagnant. I was barely capable of doing my low-paying job so how could I expect to go after a more fulfilling and higher-paying position?

I had no interest in school anymore; it was just something I did, and it kept me close to the party scene. The school also made me feel less guilty about my stagnant work life because I was still a “student” and didn’t need to grow up yet. However, all things come to an end, both good and bad.

School ended, and university friends all moved on with their lives in different cities. I hid myself from the friends who stuck around. I felt “less than”. I didn’t want them to see how much of a problem I really had, so I isolated. I made new friends with the same hobby as me, drinking. I also made friends with the drugs. This sped up the downward spiral, and there was no looking back.

I eventually ran away from my problems to a different part of the country. This was probably one of the worst choices I’ve ever made, as if a different city would cure me of all my problems and give me a fresh start. I was a little naive at the time, but it seemed like the only plausible option. I got a job and lived with my aunt while I got myself set up. Once again, I aimed low when it came to finding work, and I was not even making enough money to afford all the alcohol I was consuming.

I was completely hopeless. I admitted at this point that I was indeed an alcoholic/addict, but I had no idea how to stop it. I didn’t think I could. Every moment outside of work, I was drinking. The physical symptoms of addiction started to catch up with me. I would wake up every morning sweating and shaking. I would throw up every morning from the hangover, nausea, and anxiety attacks. I could barely drive to work because of the panic attacks.

Making it through the day was unbearable. I looked horrendous. I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. Busted blood vessels in my eyes from vomiting made me look like I was dying. Eventually, my aunt found an embarrassing amount of my hidden liquor bottles, my shame stash. I was also throwing a lot of my empty bottles in the work trash as well so she only found a small number of my bottles.

My aunt kicked me out of the house, but she said if I went and got treatment, I could live there after, as long as I got some help. This was probably one of the most important moments of my life. This was the moment I started to fight back and decided to give sobriety a chance. So thanks, Aunt Judy, it was the tough love I needed.

I flew straight to an in-patient treatment center for thirty days. It was the best decision I ever made. It didn’t last; once I got out, I relapsed within two weeks, but I will say that it got the ball rolling. I now wanted to be sober. So, my dad drove me back to rehab again for another thirty days. I learned so much about myself. Both of those thirty-day stints in the treatment center were the longest stretches of sobriety I had ever had. I had hope once again.

However, life outside of rehab is a different beast altogether. I relapsed again and ended up in the psych ward because I literally had no other options. Somehow, I managed to sober up again, and I stayed sober for an extended period.

I was pretty much sober for the best part of three years, with a few small slips. I got a good job, had hobbies, and started working out. I even started dating again and hanging out with friends. I started to build a life for myself. Things really did turn around for me.

The evil thing about addiction, though, is that it’s the one disease that convinces you that you don’t have it. I let my guard down. I guess you could call it a perfect storm. I was in a depressive episode, extremely anxious, and triggered by something I couldn’t control. I gave in, and I relapsed once again.

This relapse was quite a bit bigger than a slip. It’s been a year since I first relapsed, and I am only now getting back to a good place where I think I can stay sober and rebuild my life. I will go into this relapse in more detail in a separate article.

For those three years (minus the few slips) where I didn’t drink, my addiction was growing inside of me. I would say within two weeks, my addiction was worse than it had ever been before. It returned with a vengeance.

I had six visits to the five-day in-patient detox center. I ended up in the psych ward more times than I went to the detox center. I had ambulances and cops show up and take me to hospitals for risk of overdose.

I blew all the savings that I had built up over the last three years. I eventually lost my job. I lost everything, including any self-respect and self-confidence I had found along the way.

Two months ago, I got into another thirty-day in-patient rehab center. I completed the program once again and gave it all I had. I go to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings every day and another group therapy once a week. I am actively looking for work again. I meditate every day and practice different mindfulness techniques. I go to the gym every day. I pray to a God I may or may not believe in. Most importantly, I’m opening up to people and learning to express myself. Writing has become very therapeutic for me.

I feel like this is my last chance at life. There isn’t much more I could lose. Every time I relapse, it ends up being worse than I could have ever imagined.

I don’t think I could mentally or physically survive another relapse, so I have to remain on guard and stay vigilant. I know I have another relapse in me, but I may not have another recovery in me. This is life or death for me, and I choose life.

So here I am, living my life one day at a time, doing everything I can to not take that first drink. I am optimistic, and I once again have hope. I will do everything in my power to stay sober.

It’s going to take a long time for me to get back what I’ve lost, but I am going to do it. I’m also going to try to use my experiences to help others. I hope my story can help someone. Maybe my story can make someone else who is struggling feel less alone or avoid the mistakes I have made.

Thanks for reading my story.

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