The Sunday round up, 21st March 2010

Now it could well be hormonal but my sap is definitely burgeoning. Or, in infinitely more poetic terms, “seasons change and spring throws off winter’s mantle; colours burst from dead soil, the earth stirs and we, like human vines, bend toward the light.” Thank you GuyinGHo.

Spring is heralded for people in many ways. For Susan it is the flowers bursting through and bringing a renewed sense of hope and colour and sunshine to the world and for Mac it is pondering the potential of getting deep down and dirty with some vegetables.

In my case I know that Spring has most certainly sprung when I find myself facing my annual haircut. Now it is not that I am nursing some strange phobia of all things tonsorial. Although, I don’t think that it is entirely irrational to hold a slight fear of a complete stranger standing behind you with a sharp implement. I mean if someone did it on the bus, or down some dark alley, you wouldn’t just sit their nonchalantly flipping though your Hello magazine sipping lukewarm Maxwell House, would you?

No, my reluctance is all due to the interrogatory nature of salon-related chit chat which fills me with a dread akin to having to watch back to back episodes of Strictly come ice dancing factor. How I want to lie. I plot my ‘cover story’ in detailed intricacy but when it comes to the crunch, I somehow end up telling the truth. I blame Recovery and concur with Wynford that, “The biggest risk in recovery is showing people who we really are.” Although I don’t think he was talking about hairdressers. In the illness works for us (a fantastically positive way of looking at addiction) he also talks about the pain of lying leading to a choice to be honest.

So honesty it is and – while I am able to prolong the moment of truth by pretending to go to sleep during the hair-washing bit, I know that eventually I will have to face the music. And in many ways that’s a good analogy for coming into Recovery. Apologies but that has genuinely just come to me, must be mentioning washing which led to similar thoughts for Adam. We keep our eyes closed for as long as we can but eventually we have to open them and smell the roses.

In Strut’s case, being honest about risk of relapse led to taking action (good on you Strut). For didn’t play well with others it was recognising that suboxone was keeping her safe from a danger zone which is long gone and now she has to convince others of her commitment to breaking the cycle.

So change happens (profound eh! It’s my new hairstyle allowing more oxygen to the brain – for more brain related matters see are we clutching at straws). Sometimes it is good – for Kiri it’s about “living a good and normal life”, for Chris it’s about making headway in his work with veterans and becoming Director of his own Community Interest Company – congratulations – and for Adam change most definitely saved his life.

For some it is not so good, especially when change is not of our own volition. Gareth is feeling the impact of his mother’s health, GuyinGHo has to roll with the punches in “a world of shrinking budgets and extraordinary demands” (featuring soon in an organisation near you).

Sue is experiencing both sides of this change coin. Coping with sadness and the whole unreality of loss, perhaps of a piece of her own soul. ‘Soul loss’ is about a sense that you give away a part of you to someone – your heart, your soul and that you are not the same once they die. This is particularly true in terms of children, where a mother or father gives some of their soul to a child to protect them and keep them safe. Thanks to Phil for writing about this shamanic belief.

Ann Marie gives a lovely perspective, saying, “I am so busy with the support group, that sometimes I think Oh My God, my son is dead, how horrendous. I cry then uncontrollably, but I take it that that is just me having me time with my son.” Kato spreads the word about ‘Mum, can you lend me twenty quid?’ by Elizabeth Burton-Phillips – “a story that is honest to it’s core and is full of love, anguish, horror, compassion, friendship, hopes, shattered dreams and survival.”

On the flip side there are some shoots of Recovery for Sue and some good days. Here’s hoping a few days away will allow for some healing.

And some change is a bit inbetweeny, a bit different but more about moving on than anything else. Chris starts another chapter with the help of Celine Dion and Daily Dose will stop dispensing. It will be missed by many. But as David says we will continue to put all we can into the Wired In community (although some funding would be nice. Perhaps my new hairstyle will help? Probably not).

There is of course another kind of change which Fox Mulder knows all about. This type of transformation occurs when you are abducted by aliens and then return to terra-firma looking the same but acting differently. These individuals can usually be identified by a tiny chip under the skin, much like pets. So if you are in doubt about a loved one I suggest luring them down to your local vets and getting their chip read.

I mention this as it appears that two members of our community may well have been purloined by our extra-terrestrial cousins and I have no choice but to unmask them for the safety of the human race. Matthew, j’accuse. My evidence? Blatant lack of cynicism AND poetry – got ya sir, bang to rights. A more tricky customer is Tony, who started the week fed up, so we know he was ‘normal’ on Monday. Then on Thursday re-engineered Tony makes an appearance, just read his GMW conference blog – untempered positivity – and again today with SMART. Who is next?

Keep an eye on “Peapod”: as I find his willingness to engage with EmoTrance a tad suspicious!

Change of course is a process and for those of you who are interested in an in-depth look at this check out Stages and Processes of Change part one, part two and part three.

And some things never really seem to change. We still think, like Shell, that just one more won’t hurt, like Scott we still ask, “What’s the point?” as another inconclusive and indecisive report is produced and we still wonder, along with Splendidly, “whether practitioners ‘need’ to keep people unhealthy and ‘needy’ to deflect the attention away from their own problems.”

Tesco maintains that restricting the sale of sherry to ageing spinsters will solve Cardiff’‘s street drinking problems, thanks Cliffy (OK, so I made the spinster bit up) for that snippet, and the press continues to misquote with abandon. See Joe Gerstein’s response to PeaPod’s blog and Carl’s entry on the DDN article.

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. Which is French for no bloody change there then. And who said there was a lack of culture on this site?

Now I can feel my sap depleting so I will top it up with some good things. Congratulations to the Basement Project on the launch of their new website. Do check it out and give some feedback. The Serenity Cafe goes mellow with a wii tournament, which may well be an oxymoron (a contradiction – see, this site simply oozes culture) and the UK Recovery Federation have secured a great venue in Preston, Lancashire for the UKRF Conference on 7th May.

Well now, if you cast your mind back to the beginning of this blog I was outlining why a hot date with Jeremy Paxman (and he was so nice on Tomorrow’s World) would be my choice if I was Sophie and the other option was a visit to the hairdresser. This is not maligning Jezza – it’s the questions you see. I was hoping you would forget as I was at a loss as to how to weave (weave, hairdresser, geddit? Honestly,it’s like casting pearls amongst swine) it in but then, and this is spooky, PeaPod blogged. All will become clear, I hope.

OK, so you sit in the chair trying not to look at yourself in the mirror, but doing it sneakily anyway. After establishing that your level of hair awareness stops at saying ‘short’ rather than I want a Cheryl Cole, it starts. In general it goes like this.

‘Stylist’ (S): So what do you do then?
Me: Well, er, actually (lie goes out of head), I volunteer at the moment.
S: Oh, really? What kind of volunteering? (Thinks: Crap tip alert! Minimal effort only)
Me: I, um, work with people with drug and alcohol problems.
S: Oh, really? How did you get into that then (Thinks: Where are my latex gloves?)
Me: I, um, well, I’m a recovering alcoholic
S: Oh, really? (Monologue from S on friend, brother, uncle, partner, mother with drink/drug problem). When this is exhausted switch topic to “Are you married?”
Me: No.
S: Oh, really? Not found Mr. Right yet then (Thinks: Better get a bloody move on, you’re no spring chicken and you’ll never pull without a Cheryl hair-do)
Me: (Depending on bravery levels) No, ha, ha, I’m um, well I’m, you know, gay
S: Oh, really (Steps back and continues to cut hair at arms length). Decides to change conversational tack “Going on holiday anywhere nice this year?”
Me: No, I am a volunteer and can’t afford it.
S: Silence
Me: Silence

The worst thing about this scenario, which is only semi-untrue, is that I always have a little stab of pain about not being ‘normal’. I always feel a bit ashamed, a bit other, a bit weird. I berate myself for this but the feeling is still there. I don’t feel like this on Wired In, I don’t feel like this when I am part of a Recovery community. But going to the hairdresser reminds me that this is not enough, and I want to live in a world where stigma and shame don’t dog my steps.

So I thank PeaPod for giving me an ‘in’ to write about this. I agree with most of what is said and I am indeed deeply proud of my recovery and my sexuality. But still that sense of shame.

And what am I going to do about it? Well, lots of things. But most of all I will be walking on 25th September in Glasgow. We have a new slogan for the UK Recovery Walk, ‘We make the path by walking it’. Well each of my steps will take me closer to getting my hair cut, how often who knows, but when I want to.

Onwards and upwards

Oh yes, the competition. I made an error (yes shockingly I am not perfect) and should have said it closes midnight of 27th March. Whoops. Happy searching.