to identify the source; other times the fear is more elusive. Yet I can always hunt it down if I am diligent in my quest.
Sometimes I must get more honest with myself than I would like. I must face some facts about myself that I don’t want to face, and admit that I am afraid of something I would not like to admit—even to myself. But it helps me locate the core of the problem, which helps me find a solution. Today I’m all about solutions, so I’m willing to make the admission, at least to myself. After all, I want life to be enjoyable. I despise being angry, and I dislike feeling depressed. Therefore, I have spent a lot of time looking for ways to defeat these two thieves of my time and life-energy.
Depression
When my first sponsor died in 2006, I fell into a mild depression. I call it mild because it seemed moderate for losing someone who had been such a tremendous help to me during my early years of recovery, someone with whom I had become so close. Someone I loved. As it turns out, it was a rather mild case, too. I cried only once. As I look back on this time, I can see that my grieving was reduced by the fact that he was old and his death was imminent. However, the greatest contributor to the mildness of my depression was the fact that we had a wonderful relationship. We never argued, we did many things together, he taught me a lot about staying in recovery and about life itself, and I truly loved him.
While death is a permanent loss, I knew he would live on with me, in my heart. Still, there was depression, albeit mild considering the occasion. I stopped to look at the reason for the depression. This was a case where it was easy to identify the cause. I had lost a great friend, but it didn’t stop there. The fear ran through me because I was uncertain of how life would go on without my sponsor. Whom would I turn to when I needed to talk? Who would provide me the advice and love that I got from him for five years? I had doubts about the future, and fear took advantage of this by slithering into my being and rocking my foundation. I had another sponsor lined up, but the fear of losing something I didn’t want to lose rode me hard, and the fear of not getting what I thought I might need in the future cracked the whip to egg my fear on.
I was amazed at what happened next. The grieving process was short and disturbed my life very little, even though I was distressed over the loss of a loved one—the one closest to me outside my immediate family. However, I had identified my fear, and I had discovered that I really only had to grieve for my loss and my fear of filling his shoes because of the wonderful relationship we had over the years.
While it may sound as though I am making this process of grieving rather simple, it was even simpler than I expected, and fear took advantage of that, too. For a time I was concerned that I wasn’t grieving properly. I thought that maybe I had lost my ability to grieve properly or that I was growing cold-hearted. My sponsor was my first close personal loss since entering recovery, so this was new turf for me. Then I got an email from a friend whom my sponsor had also sponsored. She wrote:
Mark,
How are you doing? Several times, I think, I am going to pick up the phone and call Chauncey, then I remember, damn, I can’t. I know he is with me and my spirit can call him, but have you felt that way? I know he wanted to go [he was in a lot of pain] and I was happy for him. I also know he didn’t want to leave his wife Viv, but he has been ready for some time now. How lucky we were to have worked with the best. 1941 [the year he got clean], wow! I feel extremely blessed to have had him in my life. He came at a very crucial time. I will miss him.
This helped me to feel a little better, but it also got me thinking. This is when I truly discovered the how and why of the ease of my transition through my depression over losing a loved one. I learned even more than that, though, and I will discuss that in a moment, but first let me show you how I responded.
I wrote:
I am doing very well. For a while, I was getting a little out of sorts around 9:00 every night because that was when I called him. I have overcome that with the knowledge that I can talk to him anytime now—just like I talk to God—and I call Vivian every night.
I have responded overly well to his passing, and I was even worried about how easily I have taken this whole thing, but I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I have no regrets about my relationship with him. I got to do a ton of stuff with him; I talked to him every day for over four years—more often than I talk to my own family members—and I shared my life with him. And now I do the best I can to honor him by living up to the things he taught me.
We were truly blessed by his presence in our lives. There is no doubt about that, and now it is our turn to bless others. He loved to say, “I got mine, you get yours,” and there are many ways that can be taken. Today I take it to mean that he had his journey, and now it is up to me to enjoy mine. In fact, I believe that if I don’t enjoy my life I am wasting my time.
I miss Chauncey on occasion, but I don’t spend a lot of time dwelling on that in a negative manner. Instead I do my best to remember to do what he would have me do, and it isn’t very hard to know what he would advise in most situations—the next right thing. As long as I keep it simple and keep my hand out to help the next person, I am carrying the message. And that is what Chauncey would have me do—carry the message!
Love,
Mark
While writing this email, I learned some very important things about grieving, especially when it comes to losing a loved one. I can lessen the depression by living well and maintaining my relationships while my loved ones are still alive. I have discovered that much of my grief and depression when someone close to me dies comes not from my sense of loss, but from my guilt over the things I wished I had done differently—my regrets—and the fear that builds in me from the fact that I will no longer have the opportunity to make things right.
I never had to make things right with Chauncey because we got off to a good start. We kept our relationship in proper working order throughout the remainder of his life. I have had to do some work on other relationships, which I neglected for a long time while I was drinking and drugging, and that is putting it very kindly. Today I do my best, on a daily basis, to live a good life and carefully maintain relationships with those I love.
I have taken the long way around the block to learn this important lesson, but I think there was good reason to take that little detour. I hope this little side trip will encourage us all to put more effort into the relationships that mean the most to us. Identifying fear in the midst of depression can be the last thing I want to do; however, if I can dredge up the will to look at the real cause of depression—fear—I can usually take the necessary steps to relieve its severity. In fact, quite often, simply taking some action in an attempt to come out of the depression will help me feel better. Many times doing something is better than doing nothing, but other times there is another solution.
Enjoying Depression
“Enjoying” depression may sound a little crazy, but it works for me every time. Of course, I’m not talking about clinical depression or anything that might require a doctor’s help or medication; I’m talking about regular, run-of-the-mill depression—what the experts call “dysthymia.” I discovered that enjoying my depression worked for me after talking with my sponsor.
One night when I called Chauncey, I was in a foul mood; I was depressed after having a bad day and didn’t know what to do to feel better. I can’t recall the exact reason for my mood, but I know it was real, and I know I was quite sad. After our usual cordial greeting, I started to talk about my bad day. I told him about my issues and said I was depressed. He replied, “Well, enjoy that.”
I said, “Enjoy it? What are you, nuts? I’m feeling depressed. How can I enjoy that?”
His reply was simple
