Abstinent, not sober

As much as I'm enjoying the fruits of my TV abstinence -- mainly how much more I'm able to accomplish -- I'm also aware that all this new energy doesn't feel sober. It feels nervous, unsettled. I suppose that, like all else in my recovery, I shouldn't depend on it. It's a gift from God, and I'll use it as well as I can, as long as I can. I need to be here now. And take it one day at a time.

Links

This is the first in what will be an ongoing series of links, with comments, to things around the 'net that I find interesting and/or useful re. TV addiction. Mindful that one person's trash is another person's treasure, I am trying to keep my comments positive, pointing out only what I liked, not what I didn't like. I wouldn't want to be the one standing between an addict and a resource that might benefit her.

I invite you to post your links and comments as well. The links that seem to have enduring value will eventually find their way into the Links list on the sidebar.


A Twelve-Step Program for TV Addicts from TV Addicts Anonymous (a site for trading TV episodes, not a recovery site)

Nothing to do with the 12 Steps of AA. But it is 90% thoughtful reflection, 10% tongue in cheek. (Though that becomes 5%/95% when you consider the overall site.)


Let's Talk: Procrastination, by Kat, from her blog The Soapbox

(SOMETHING IS WRONG with the formatting on this site; on all of the pages I viewed, most of the text is obscured by what should be just the background. There are two ways around this: one, click Ctrl-A, which will highlight all text on the page and make it readable, and two, use your browser controls to turn off all page formatting. In Firefox, that's View -> Page Style -> No Style.)

Covers procrastination and Internet addiction in addition to TV addiction ... but then, they're all closely related. Two of Kat's comments especially struck a nerve for me:

I turn on the T.V. when I wake up in the morning and as soon as I get in the front door after work.

Boy, is that me -- only worse. When I'm not abstinent, I turn on the TV very first thing after I get up. (OK, maybe I take a leak first, then sit down at the computer -- which is conveniently positioned so I can see the TV at the same time -- then turn on the TV.) And since I work at home ... the TV just stays on the rest of the day.

Usually, by the time I'm done doing all this ( and mind you, I sign on at least 3 times daily ), it's bed time. Or pretty close to it. By this time, my brain is sleepy and I'll suddenly remember, "OH, I was supposed to write today." Eyes go to the clock at the right hand side of the screen. "Oh, but its too late now. I'm too tired." Shut down CPU. Crawl into bed.

Here Kat is talking about time soaked up by e-mail, blogging, and other Internet use, as well as TV. But that same pattern is also me -- I have my own long list of addictive and procrastinating behaviors. (I'll get to that in a future post.) Point is, I am so wearily familiar with that feeling of "OH. I was supposed to write today." When I think of how many days of my life I've burned through -- with the help of TV -- instead of making money, studying, writing, tending to my relationships with family and friends, playing with my dogs and cats, taking care of my health, gardening and cooking, working on a mountain of important spiritual and social justice issues, and all the other things that I care about ... well, I'm tearing up just writing about it. I'm sad, ashamed, frustrated, furious. How could I have let this happen?


Confessions of an Addict, part one, by Bill, from the Challies.com community blog

This post and the comments that follow it are honest and thoughtful, even though they're not about TV addiction or even addiction per se. Four things in them particularly struck me.

The first four paragraphs describe exactly why, since I began my 12-Step recovery 8-1/2 years ago, most churches have seemed shallow and ineffective to me -- including those that I've joined and helped run, and one that I co-founded. There's just too much looking-good in churches and not enough honesty for much real spiritual growth to happen. (From time to time I toy with the idea of starting a 12-Step church. :o)

When Bill calls himself a church growth addict, he's serious. And I agree with him. The more general point is that anyone can use any substance or process (activity) addictively. So when someone calls himself a gaming addict, or an organizing addict, or a gardening addict -- and I detect that little bit of unhappiness showing through his words -- I know he means it.

Bill tells how easily he was led off the spiritual path by his ego, by his desires to be successful and "look good." It sounds just like the times when I grew complacent about my recovery -- when I felt that I was "better," and didn't need to work the steps, or keep up with my sponsor, or even go to meetings:

I quickly learned that everyone serving in ministry “had it all together” as well.... Everyone was moving forward, living out the vision God had revealed personally to them. And so I learned how to play the game.... After all, God wanted me to be successful, right?

There’s a night that I don’t like to think about and try to avoid in conversation.... Everything was great – I was a success…finally. And I was so far away from God that I didn’t even notice He was nowhere to be found.

Finally, Bill's story reminds me why 12-Step groups need the 11th Tradition: "Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio and films." The first half of the tradition warns us against the dangers of "selling" our way of recovery. And the second half warns us of the dangers of elevating ourselves above our recovery and the welfare of the group. Bill learned both, up close and personal.

This post promises a part 2 ("coming in a few days"), to be titled "Learning to Detox." That was on 11 February 2005, but sadly, there's no sign of the sequel.

Dammit

Yesterday I got excited about a news-documentary program that's running on CNBC, called "The eBay Effect, Inside a Worldwide Obsession." Since I buy and sell every day on eBay, I wanted to watch it. Went to CNBC's website, found the broadcast schedule, and I was all set to watch the program tonight. Then I looked at the site again this morning, and suddenly I remembered.... LOL

So, time for an executive decision. If I thought this program had crucial information that I really couldn't get any other way, then I would have considered breaking my abstinence to watch it. But I've already read news reports and viewers' comments about the program, so I know that that isn't so. Wow, using intelligence and discrimination in choosing TV programming ... what a concept!

Still withdrawing, but light growing at the end of the tunnel

Last night was bad. My fight with my friend came to a head; I had to tell her that I can't be in touch with her until she learns to aim her anger somewhere else besides at me. (Actually, she did; at almost the same time, she nearly kicked her boyfriend -- who is living with her -- out of her home, and he came to me desperate and in tears. He has an open invitation to sleep on my couch ... he could show up any time.) After all that, I was dazed. I wanted to cry, I needed to cry, but I couldn't. I should have called a friend, especially a program friend, but I didn't do that either. I let my shame about feeling so emotionally weak, and my shame about neglecting many of my friends, get in the way. I felt horribly isolated and alone, and so emotionally knotted up that I could hardly think. I got into bed quickly, but I slept pretty lousy. So I spent today tired, touchy, and emotionally hung over.

It would have been a great excuse for turning to the comfort of the TV, but somehow, through God's grace, I didn't. Come to think of it, I didn't even think about turning on the TV, either last night or today. I'm not turning to any of my worst addictions either, though I am still spending more time on the computer than I'd like, and eating things I shouldn't. But hey, I can only deal with so many addictions at a time.

As tough as today was, though, I also spent the day constantly aware of the benefits that I'm already getting from my abstinence. I'm getting a hell of a lot more done: cleaning and organizing, writing, reading, buying new camera gear (film cameras and accessories are dirt cheap on eBay these days), pulling together a meeting of tenants in my apartment complex, sleeping when I need to. There are more important things than all that that I still need to do -- tending to my business, groundwork on a second business, some critical financial things, getting my animals to the vet for annual tests and shots, and keeping up with some new socializing possibilities -- but I'm doing pretty well at not beating myself up over what I'm not accomplishing. Now, I want to do better with prioritizing and doing the most important and time-critical things first.

Today felt just as long as Monday, but not as uncomfortably so. I'm pulling free of my attachment to the TV schedule, less aware of what's on the tube that I'm "missing." I'm shifting back to a better sleep schedule -- about midnight to 8 AM, instead of 3 AM (gotta catch those reruns of Cheers, even though I've seen most of them 20 times) to 11 AM. And I'm feeling less addicted, less "hooked." The hooked feeling is hard to describe. It's almost like being in a trance: eyes a bit glazed over, mind glazed over too -- the time sort of drifting along, and my attention floating back and forth from the computer to the TV. And then when it's finally time to turn off the TV and go to bed, I come out of the trance. That has almost a physical impact: the emptiness and loneliness pile back on top of me, along with the realization of how much time I've pissed away -- AGAIN -- and how many of the things I needed to do, I didn't.

Thank you, God. Again. I can't say that enough times. I didn't achieve this abstinence on my own. It's your grace, your gift to me. I'm doing my damnedest to honor your gift by using it well.

Sobriety

I haven't begun to think much about what sobriety might look like for me. I'm not yet sober from TV addiction; I'm only abstinent. With most of the substance addictions and some of the process addictions -- like alcohol, narcotics, marijuana, gambling -- sobriety equals abstinence, so it's simple. As AA says, you just put the plug in the jug. But with many addictions -- food, sex, relationships, spending, working -- abstinence is either impossible or undesirable. With TV addiction, abstinence is possible, of course, but I doubt that it really equals sobriety for most people. Clearly there is a lot of broadcast TV, movies, and video, that have value. So the issues for me are how I react to TV, what sets off the addictive response in me.

What will TV sobriety look like for me? Will it include commercial TV, or not? Will I find that some genres -- drama, sitcom, documentary, news, movies -- are sober for me while others are not? Or that particular shows are sober for me, and others not? Will a limit on the number of hours per day represent sobriety? Will the way that I watch TV -- in the company of others, while eating, while working at my desk, alone but with full attention, and so on -- make a difference? What about movies on VHS and DVD (of which I have several hundred)? What about documentary and educational videos, of which I also have quite a lot? I can't answer any of these questions yet. Right now I'm just writing down the questions that have occurred to me so far.

Anyway, abstinence is better than active addiction, and I'm very grateful for it. I don't want to spend too much thought on sobriety yet ... I need to be here now, pay attention to how it feels to be abstinent, to how it feels to be without the TV drug.

4 days

I now have 4 days' abstinence behind me, and that feels really good. It's an achievement, and I'm very grateful to my Higher Power.

And, I have to keep remembering not to get ahead of myself. When I start getting comfortable in my new abstinence -- when I start feeling proud of myself -- when I start to talk with pride about the length of my abstinence -- when I start to feel that I've "turned the tide" -- that's when I need to do an ego check, and ask God to help me keep living with my addiction just one day at a time.

I was right ...

... it was a long day. I kept looking at my watch all through the day, always hoping the time would be later, but always it was earlier. When I'm having a good day, when my mood and energy are good, a long day is great; it means more day to enjoy. But when I'm having a bad day, it's not great at all. And this is part of why TV is such a great drug: it makes the time pass faster. With the TV on, before I know it, it's dark out, time to feed the animals, brush teeth, fall into bed.

The day started badly. The morning newscast was appalling (I'm an ultra-blue liberal in an increasingly red era), my apartment manager is leaving pissy notices at my door again, I'm in the middle of an awful fight with a friend, I think one of my cats is sick and may need to see a vet, and my apartment is a wreck. A shower and some time writing helped lift my mood, though. And when I went out about 2:00 PM to do some errands that I expected to be enjoyable, things were looking up. But the temp peaked at 93 today (it felt hotter), and my car's AC is broken, and on the way home I got caught in rush-hour traffic. By the time I got home I was overheated and exhausted, and not at all ready to have my dogs jump all over me, wanting to play. I wanted distraction. I wanted comfort. I wanted some company. And I couldn't have it.

Because I'm in withdrawal from one of my best drugs. I want my TV back. I want the company of Roseanne and Dan; Toby, Josh, and C.J.; Lennie, Jack, and Abbie; and of course Jean-Luc, Worf, and Data. They're such good friends. While they're with me, I get to live their lives and their troubles, and see it all resolved in just an hour or a half-hour (well, usually), and in most cases I also have the comfort of knowing in advance what will happen. While I'm with my friends, I don't think so much about my own life and how much it sucks. I miss my friends. And they're so close by ... the remote control is right here, all I have to do is pick up, aim, and press a few buttons. I could be visiting with Roseanne right now. And after that, twice with Law & Order, and then Everybody Loves Raymond, and then King of Queens, and then Cheers, twice, and then Roseanne, twice more, and then....

I no longer have to look at the TV schedule. I know it, all 24 hours and 7 days of it.

I should have slept after I got home this afternoon. I've gotten a bit of a second wind since then, but I'm still in a bad mood. I was short with a friend who dropped by, and impatient with my dogs. But I let myself get caught up in some computer stuff -- mainly an eBay auction that still had 2-1/2 hours to run -- instead. (Yes, I have a computer addiction too.)

The AA saying is, One day at a time, and that's the only way I can do this recovery. If I have to think about all my tomorrows without TV, I'm sunk. Today was even a little worse than that ... I had to take it about 2 hours at a time. That was all I could face -- getting through the next hour or two.

I'm Chris S., recovering TV addict. Thanks. I'm open to feedback.

Gonna be a long day

I woke up this morning at 9:45, and as I got ready to take the dogs out and get breakfast for the animals, I was rushing a bit, thinking, I want to be back by 10 for ER. ~sigh~ I guess it's going to be like that for awhile. I hear people who are addicted to cigarettes go through something like this.

A first "meeting"

Hi. I'm Chris S., and I'm a TV addict.

And I don't mean that in the everyday, tongue-in-cheek sense of the term. I'm really addicted. Watching TV is a drug for me, and I use it to medicate emotional pain -- the pain of loneliness, of feeling that I'm a failure, of feeling that life isn't worth living.

I'm addicted to other things too, and I've been recovering from them in 12-Step groups for more than eight years now. But TV feeds all of my other addictions, and so it's time for me to face it directly. Unfortunately -- as far as I know -- there is no such group as TV Addicts Anonymous, either one that meets in person or one that meets on the Internet. I can talk about my TV addiction in the groups that I already go to, but it's not the same as talking to someone with the same addiction.

So ... here I am, just me and my blog. I could write my thoughts on my own computer, and private journalling is a great thing. But I'm blogging instead in the hope that others will find their way here, and that this will become more than just a conversation with myself. (And my Higher Power, of course.) I'm not intending to actually start a group called TV Addicts Anonymous, although if that were to happen, great. I just want to find others who are struggling with the same thing, in the hope that we can help each other start to recover. However, I do intend to run this blog in much the same way that a 12-Step meeting would be conducted, with the same traditions about sharing, feedback, and crosstalk. For those not familiar with these traditions, I'll write about them soon, as well as modeling them in what I write and how I conduct myself in this blog.

It's early Monday morning as I write this, and I have just completed two days of complete abstinence from TV. On Friday, as usual, I had the TV on almost the entire day, turning it off only when I left the house, when I slept in the middle of the day, and when a friend dropped by. Aside from those interruptions, I watched TV continuously from about 10 AM Friday morning to 1:30 AM Saturday morning. Deducting that 6 hours of interruptions, yesterday was 9-1/2 hours of TV -- a mighty short day for me.

When I got up Saturday morning, something inside me -- a little voice of disgust and self-loathing, propped up by a little more inner strength than usual -- said, "Don't turn on the TV yet. Just leave it off for awhile." Well, a little while has now stretched into almost 48 hours. I can't take the credit for this achievement ... I know how many times in the past I've tried to break this addiction, and failed. If I could have gotten out of this addiction with will power, I would have done so a long time ago. Besides, I didn't plan this; it just happened. And so I must credit my Higher Power -- my God -- for this abstinence. My God has helped me achieve many things that I couldn't have on my own, especially in the 8-1/2 years since I started my 12-Step recovery, so this is no surprise. But I am incredibly grateful, and I will carry that gratitude into my prayers, thoughts, and dreams tonight.

So, I mean for this blog to be -- even if no one else ever visits or reads it -- a tool for my own recovery from TV addiction. I am committing myself to be radically honest about my addiction: how I struggle with it, what I think and feel, the problems and slips I have along the way, and the insights I have along the way too. Because even if no other person ever reads this, my God will always be watching, and reading, and -- as always -- loving me no matter what happens. The best way I can honor His-Her love and care for me is to be as completely, proactively honest as I can. I'll do my best here, God. Always.

I have much more to write, but it's late ... I'm going to eat, practice my guitar awhile, take care of my animals, and fall in.

God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things that I cannot change
The courage to change the things that I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

I'm Chris S., thanks for listening. And I'm open to feedback.