My Addiction

So, after losing yet another night of sleep trying to determine what it is exactly that is making my life not as happy as it should be, I came to the startling realization that I have an addiction. My drug of choice (for lack of a better term) is neither illegal nor immoral, but all the same it is something that is hurting me, and I must find a way to let it go and recover.

I looked quickly over the 12 steps that an alcoholic must take to in order to begin his/her road to recovery. While my personal addiction is far different, I believe that it just might be the right place to start. I was surprised to find that step one is not just admitting that I have an addiction, but acknowledging that I have become powerless to that addiction. Everything in me screams out in defiance of that concept. I don't want to admit that I am powerless to anything. However, in a brief inventory of myself and my life, also required in the twelve steps, I cannot deny that I continue to make choices that allow me just a little more time with my drug of choice and less time with the things and the people who are good for me.

In the vulnerability of admitting my powerlessness I find a great amount of freedom and even strength. It is as if I am now saying to my drug of choice, "You have had this hold on me that is strong and powerful and has overcome me...until this moment. I am pulling away, and I am not going to allow you to grab hold again." And with that I become the one in power of me once again.

Do you accept these pom poms?

So the other night, I received a surprising text from a former cheerleader that I used to coach. She was touching base and inviting me to her upcoming baby shower. She's having a boy in November. It got me thinking back to both my time as a cheerleader and later as a coach. This all led to a very interesting dream that night.

In my dream I had the unique opportunity to cheer with my former squad. We were at cheer camp and were preparing for our first night's evaluation...something I used to stress about for months beforehand as a coach. I had to get my brand new squad trained and up to par because that was our first opportunity to introduce ourselves to the staff and the other cheer squads.

I suddenly felt the stress in a whole new way. I kept asking for my schedule and realized I didn't even know the cheer we were about to perform. I then went to my closet and had the sickening realization that I was supposed to put on a cheer uniform! I still remember putting on my varsity uniform on for the first time at 15, such a thrill. Somehow, at almost 30 it had the opposite effect on me.

I walked out of my dorm room and into the cafeteria where my coaches and captains sat. I of course felt that none of them were doing their jobs correctly either (who could possibly live up to the coach I had been...such an ego). But, I told them that my time had passed. I wasn't meant to be down on that floor anymore. They got very angry that I wanted to ditch them after they'd worked so hard to give me this opportunity. But I just shrugged and said, you have to know when a certain part of your life is over, and this one was definitely over for me 10 years ago.