Sober House Quarantine Confidential

this is not my sober house

I live in a women's sober house. It's a beautiful property, with horses, goats, a hog named Grandpa, a few cats and a litter of kittens. There are a lot of us here. The women are, for the most part, wonderful people who are supportive of each other's efforts to get and stay clean and sober.

But you see that picture up there? It's definitely not that.

I was fortunate enough to come in well before the current quarantine directives were put into place. I have an outside network of strong women that I can call upon when the going gets tough, or even when it's going pretty smoothly. But I can't go to outside meetings, and I really can't socialize with my people. And although I am, by nature, a recluse - I was honestly happy when they closed my outpatient program and went to video visits- I miss that personal contact more than I  thought I would. In fact, I relapsed a short while into it, double-dosing my Neurontin one day just to see how that would feel (it felt stupid and it forced me to change my sobriety date; I didn't even get high and do not recommend). So I can't even begin to imagine the challenges faced by the women who arrived at the height of this plague.

To say that the house has changed during all of this would be the understatement of the year. Not that we ever had pillow fights and pajama parties, and of course it's never going to be all rainbows and unicorn poop, but when you flood a structure with this much estrogen and no vent holes, it's kind of like filling a balloon with a few drops more water than it can hold. Every once in awhile, shit explodes. And it gets all over everyone.

Take, for example, the food thing. We share refrigerator space. It's not uncommon for someone, on an almost daily basis, to use "just a drop" of someone else's creamer in their coffee (we care about coffee creamer above all other food products). Normally, this results in the owner of said creamer saying something like, "Please ask before you use my creamer." These days? It's more along the lines of, "If one more bitch uses my creamer without asking I'mma tell her about herself." And it is definitely said in bold italics.

The food is only one example of the seemingly endless ways we can get on each other's nerves. It can be pretty much anything at this point: dishes left on the table or in the sink, makeup on the bathroom counter, someone's mail being moved, someone dipping out of a meeting to go to the bathroom ... people, in general, tend to take each other's inventories, but when you're with the same people 24/7, you start not only taking their inventory but obsessing about it. Not your own, though.

So I've had to find ways to keep growing in my sobriety during the plague. Of course, there are online meetings. But we have two mandatory meetings a day in the house - one in the morning with just the women of the house, the other in the evening via Zoom or Meet - so it's not always feasible to stick a third meeting in there. You would think two meetings a day would be sufficient, wouldn't you? 

Think about it, though; we live together, eat together, sleep together (not like that, don't be filthy), and now we're sharing together. Many of us also have work, counseling appointments, step work, or naps to take and television to watch. So squeezing in a third is often just not possible. I do try, though. Because I find myself editing my shares when I'm with the rest of the house. People feel like you're talking about them, even when it has nothing to do with them, and I suppose that's natural. So I don't share about my feelings in those meetings. I try to share what I'm doing to stay sober that day. But then I get called Pollyanna, or Miss AA, or a few other choice names (the latest being "Wannabe House Manager," which I find wildly amusing). Damned if you do, damned if you don't I suppose.

That's where my sponsor comes in, and thank God I have a really good one. She hears from me throughout the day and, I'm sure, thinks I'm crazy as a shithouse rat most of the time. But I get great feedback from her. We do step work, we read from the Big Book, we have random conversations about cake and books. She has saved me from myself, probably without even knowing it, many times during all these periods of self-created drama. She keeps me humble and she keeps me grateful. If you don't have a sponsor, I strongly suggest you get one (but I'm not sharing mine, sorry).

Speaking of gratitude, that goes a long way towards putting things into perspective. As I said earlier, we live in a beautiful place, and initially it was really easy to find things to put on my gratitude list every day. I mean, we have horses, for God's sake. But my sponsor has me writing a gratitude list every day, with no repeats. And it got interesting pretty fast. I actually started doing it alphabetically, which forces me to dig a little deeper every day than the usual, "I'm grateful for food." Not that I'm not grateful for food. I love food. Probably to an unhealthy degree. But I think you know what I mean.

Step work has actually been somewhat easier, believe it or not. My sponsor and I have a set time to read every week. She's scheduled a Google Meet and we do a video chat, read The Book, and talk. It doesn't require me to put on makeup, do my hair, and prepare for time outside the house (again, I'm a hermit to begin with). But we can still see each other, and that's super important to me. We did my 5th Step in her car, and it was beautiful; it started to pour down rain, and it felt like we were alone with God inside a cocoon. I felt utterly safe, and when we were done, I felt utterly free. 

And then there's prayer and meditation. Don't get all freaked out, you guys, I'm not talking about religion. I'm talking about having a continuous dialogue with my Higher Power (whom I call God, but that's just me and it doesn't have to be you), and listening for the answers. That's what prayer and meditation are to me: talking is prayer, listening is meditation. And being open and willing to listen to the answers, particularly when the question has to do with my HP's will for me. I always know what my own will is. I also always know that it's probably not in alignment with my God's will for me. Cultivating the willingness to ask for guidance and then follow it has been an exercise in self-discovery, and an important factor in my ability to roll with the punches. Not that I roll with the punches effortlessly all the time; but at least I'm willing to try. Fighting it is exhausting. And usually futile. If you don't have a Higher Power, you can borrow mine. But, as my house manager says, He's a gentleman, so He will only enter if you invite Him in.

I feel like it's all a matter of perspective at this point. None of this has been easy on anyone, even in the best of circumstances. But I have to realize that if I were living on my own, I would probably be drunk right now. Or high. I certainly wouldn't be sober, I'm almost 100% sure of that. 

If you're struggling in your quest to get and stay sober, please don't give up. There are still so many resources out there and, in many ways, it's easier to get connected. Video meetings have made AA so much more accessible to those looking for the solution. And if you need help, you can always reach out in the comments. One of the best ways for me to stay sober is to help someone else.

I wish you all peace, love, and gratitude, now and when the world resumes. Maybe we'll have learned a thing or two at the end of this.