On Jello, and Recovery

I can't help it, I've always been an observer, and I have a tendency to search for patterns subconsciously. (If you want to make me insane, put me in a room with wood-grain paneling, or paisley draperies. My mind tries to make sense, find cohesive images in the swirls, and drives itself to distraction seeking visual meaning where there really isn't any.)

One pattern I see in the rooms is temperaments that are disproportionately reactive. I was in a meeting the other day, and a woman visiting from out of state spoke. She was in town visiting family, and was so agitated she shared first at this meeting; she needed to vent.

Not surprisingly, she originated from a severely dysfunctional family. Also not surprisingly, she reported being unable to hold still as a child - likely ADHD. And of course, here she was in recovery, for other resulting compulsive behaviors. Her story could be the story of many I've seen, in the rooms. Doesn't even matter which rooms.

She shared, squirming in her seat, eyes bouncing around the room nervously. Her body was curled up fetally, knees pulled up to her chin on the sofa. She held her arms up, demonstrating boxer fists, saying she always just wanted to FIGHT in the face of a threat, that she could never seem to outgrow her rebellious pattern, her innate reflex to be defensive.

That as a small child, she had been forced to learn offense, as a defense, to survive. As she spoke, she gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowed, and her voice cracked. One could see the hurt, angry, frightened little girl sitting there, half a century later. Such is the depth of pain some of us carry around, trying to fix, after our substances are taken away.

What the heck does this have to do with Jello?

I was thinking about this characteristic, the walls we build to defend our inner children, to survive. The vestiges of which we are left to deal with as adults in recovery, that get in the way of healthy living. And I realized that early in recovery, when we are trying to rid ourselves of destructive compulsions, we have a double risk. First, we remove what coping mechanisms we were using (the compulsion, whether it be substance, behavior, etc.), and second, we have no inner solidity to hold us up. It is our walls that contain us, early on.

The process of recovery is like the making of Jello. We are but formless liquid held in by our walls - the mold - initially.

Recovery puts us through the heat of rigors, just as one needs boiling water to dissolve the Jello. (We build, or discover, ourselves through the work of the steps.) The Jello then must stay encased within the mold, until there is a cooling period, and then the process of polymerization takes place, where things come together at the molecular level in one phase.

Once the gel is set and cooled, then the mold can safely be removed, and the shape will hold on its own. This is "stable" recovery, when solid state is achieved. (about 5 years on, according to this article, http://alcoholism.about.com/od/faq/a/recovery.htm)

Here I must digress a moment and speak of black and white, and grey. For me, the process of "cooling" has to do with the personal growth that occurs such that the ability to modulate, and compromise, is developed. The addict mind has a tendency toward extremes, polarization toward one end or the other - behaviors, opinions, etc. There is a paucity of middle ground, grey zone. One of the developments of mature recovery is this middle ground. The ability to navigate without the need to polarize. To see solutions in the middle, win-win situations, that sort of thing.

I think one of the reasons long-time sober folks display that aura of serenity, that calmness, is that they know they will not be forced into a corner, to choose black OR white, anymore. That they now have the option to navigate an infinite spectrum of choices, in between. They have a lot more choices, period.

What we curse and wish to rid ourselves of quickly - our molds, our walls - we fail to recognize as primitive tools that were also gifts of survival, early on. The task is in the timely removal of the obsolete. The challenge is the patience for the correct timing, and then the courage to unmold, when the timing is correct.

My point here being that the combative temperaments of compulsive-types tend to fight against the big picture and try to expose themselves prematurely, rather than work within it, and allow the gradual transition into the grey zone. Either by rushing the timeline (impatience), attempting shortcuts (laziness, complacency), skipping steps (fear, avoidance), or some other means. It's always much harder, that way. Again, it points to turning over, surrender. Acceptance. Patience. So simple, so hard.

Is it any wonder we need a Higher Power, to help us through? And Sponsor? And network of peers?

Those that "go out" find quickly that they are puddles of red goo.

Such was my waking thought, yesterday. I'm gonna skip the discussion of custard, as enough food analogy is enough.

-The Traveler