Retreat

I've been putting off writing about my experience at the last Spiritual Retreat I went to the weekend of the 18th. It's not a religious retreat, but a 12-step recovery one. I've been going to it ever since it's inception 18 years ago. It's funny, though, how the years I've come close to not going have turned out to be the ones that I needed the most. Go figure. This year was one of those times. If it hadn't been for my friends from out of town who were also going, I might not have gone. Dumb me. After 20 years of sobriety, I still have self-destructive instincts.

We stay in fairly rustic type cabins. Each one is CBS; I think sometime along the line they finally put something over the bare cinder blocks (though not in the bathrooms). The cabins are divided in half, with 10 beds each side and a bathroom on each side. Bunk beds. 5 per side of the cabin. Can you see 10 women sharing one bathroom for a long weekend? It should be total chaos, but believe it or not it's never really been a problem in all the years I've been going. Weird.

Anyway, I had to work Thursday, so got there that night and my wife and friends had registered me and grabbed a bunk for me, so I was all taken care of. There are a lot of people I only see at the retreat, and spent some time saying hello to them. I'm like one of Pavlov's dogs; just getting to the retreat grounds makes my mind and body relax to a great extent. Still, I felt off and not quite "there."

We have "cabin meetings" at retreat where the whole 20 people in the cabin hold a recovery meeting for 2 hours. Many times it's longer than that. In the evening meeting on Thursday, I started to get an inkling of what I was really feeling. At the cabin meeting, I was finally able to acknowledge it. I was (am) angry. No, I mean ANGRY!! ENRAGED!! FURIOUS!!! I think I've been angry, enraged and furious for a long time. I thought I was sad and depressed. And I suppose I am those things, too. Why, I wonder, has it taken me so long to realize (and accept) that I'm over the top MAD?!

What I found out about what was going on inside me was that: I'M FUCKING FURIOUS THAT MY FUCKING MOTHER ABANDONED ME!! SHE LEFT ME!! ALONE. HERE TO DEAL WITH EVERYTHING . . . HER HOUSE THAT SHE LET MR. ADDICT ALL BUT DESTROY AND I HAD TO FIGURE OUT A WAY TO GET HIM OUT OF THE HOUSE AND GET THE HOUSE CLEANED UP AND GET IT READY TO SELL. HER CLOTHES AND BELOVED THINGS THAT BROKE MY GODDAMN HEART TO HAVE TO SORT THROUGH AND DECIDE WHAT TO KEEP, WHAT TO GIVE TO MY SISTER, WHAT TO SAVE FOR MY FUCKING BROTHER MR. ADDICT. ALL THE WHILE MY HEART'S BEING RIPPED OUT OF MY CHEST BECAUSE MY MOTHER LEFT ME!! SHE COULD HAVE STAYED, I JUST KNOW SHE COULD HAVE, BUT SHE DIDN'T. SHE PROBABLY THOUGHT I'D BE FINE, BECAUSE TO HER I WAS ALWAYS THE STRONG ONE WHO COULD HANDLE ANYTHING. BUT I CAN'T HANDLE EVERYTHING. Didn't she know that I only handled everything for her?? I'm mad because she's gone. I'm mad because I got stuck with all the leftover crap. I don't even really KNOW WHY I'm so goddamn mad. I've been so angry at God. Now, THAT I WAS aware of. Who better to be angry with? And underneath and through it all, I'm angry with myself for not saving her. I could have, should have done something different. SOMETHING. Something so that it would come out different and she wouldn't be dead.

It felt better to admit that I was that mad at life. No one condemned me. I think a few actually understood. Maybe more than a few. All I saw was love and acceptance in that circle. And I was going to deny myself this healing. Geez.

We have a campfire meeting every night, but a special one on Saturday night. It's called a "letting go" ceremony. Every person finds a pine cone. Into that pine cone they put anything, everything they want to let go of/leave behind/change. Then they step forward at the bonfire and tell the group what that pine cone represents; what they're getting rid of. Then they throw it into the fire and let the flames take it. This year I told those at the campfire that I wasn't ready to let go of my mother, or even my grief for my mother. Not yet. I told them that maybe I SHOULD throw my resentment for Mr. Addict in the fire, but I wasn't ready to let go of that yet, either. Maybe next year. But I knew one thing that I needed to let go of and was ready to let go of, and that was my desire to leave this world. I told them that I was throwing away my thoughts of suicide and letting go of my desire to check out. Those thoughts would not be entertained (or "romanced" as my wife says) by me anymore. I got loving hugs from several people, then I took my chair by the fire to watch and listen to the others as they made commitments to leave various troubles behind.

An old friend - more of an acquaintance, really; someone who's been around the rooms of recovery about as long as I have - stepped up to the fire with a giant pine cone in his hand. He shared about the size of it representing some things he wanted to let go of. I wasn't paying real close attention until I heard him say, "but I'm not throwing it in the fire, I'm giving it to Rose to bring back with her next year." So saying, he stepped over to me and whispered that he expected me to take good care of that pine cone and bring it back next year so I could let go of the things I wasn't ready to leave behind this year. He made me promise. Twice.

I was dumb with shock. It took me a little while to understand that it wasn't just about him wanting me to let go of my Mom and Mr. Addict. In fact, it might not have been about that at all. He was trying to make sure that I would be around to come back next year. Wow. We really don't know the effect we have on other people. I like to think, when I'm buried in my self-pity, wanting to die, that it wouldn't affect that many people. That's the addict part of me who wants what I want and doesn't want to fully realize the impact my actions might have on other people. How selfish and self-centered.

I feel humbled by their caring. I felt safe in their love and acceptance. That was all waiting for me, but I'd cut myself away from most of it. If I believed I wasn't important and nobody cared, I could wallow in my misery with no thought of anyone else. And, ok, maybe I needed to wallow awhile. But after Spiritual Retreat, I can't lie to myself anymore.

I put the pine cone up on the bookshelf where I'd see it constantly. God willing, I'll be there next year. It's a reminder that if I feel cut off (from the fellowship; from God) it's that I'VE cut the communication lines. Me; nobody else.

I'm glad God saves me from myself sometimes.