Progress Not Perfection

If money is the measure, I'm surely no model of D.A. recovery. I'm no closer to being debt free than when I came into program. I'm badly behind on my taxes and late on more then one bill. I'm still struggling with underearning, too, and despite my job hunting efforts, I somehow don't ever quite seem to get a "B" job, which my sponsor keeps urging me to do. But my sponsor always reminds me to just keep working my program and stay out of the results. And I do work a program. I get to my home meeting whenever humanly possible. I bookend. I have regular PRGs and slog throught the action plans. I do service when I can. I give PRGs. I'm available to sponsor. And oh yeah, I'm working the Steps.

Most of all, I am working to not debt, on day at a time. I haven't used credit in 3 1/2 years. That hasn't been easy, either. There were days when I had less than a dollar to my name. I spent the better part of a year house-sitting or sleeping on friends' couches. There's more, but you get the idea. Along the way though, I got clear about one thing: for me debt is a drug, as dangerous as alcohol is for alcoholics. It's a way for me to live a lifestyle I haven't earned—to live in a fantasy and avoid the consequences of my decisions. Debt numbs me out, too, like any other drug. So I miss the pleasures of life just as much as the pain.

Abstinence from debting meant facing some tough times, but without debt, I also began to rediscover little joys I'd forgotten. When I didn't have money to eat out, I remembered that I like to cook. When I didn't have money for gas, I remembered that I love walking and cycling. When I admitted I couldn't afford to go out to dinner, people offered to buy me a meal. My relationships improved. Perhaps more importantly, abstinence forced me to get out of vanity and shame and be honest about who I am and where I am in my life. Instead of hiding from creditors, I had to get honest with them and explain my situation, offer payments I could afford and admit I couldn't pay more than that. Without exception, they've thanked me for my honesty and done their best to work with me while I get back on my feet. There are still days when I'm frustrated or afraid, days when I feel hopeless. But those days are fewer and farther apart now. I know that I'm not in this alone. If I don't like living this way, I can make different decisions and somehow, some way, the universe responds. It's all king of humbling. But I'm enjoying that humility and I'm prepared to face my future, whatever it holds.

—David C.