I've always been ungrateful. I cannot honestly remember many periods in my life where I've been humbly appreciative for what I have.
My grandparents were grateful. Humble, dedicated and happy with their lot. They seemed content. Appreciative of small things. My Mother was/is the same. Grateful people seem to be on the whole happy.
My father wasn't. Everyone was either 'a fucking wanker' or 'tosser'. He was never grateful for anything either. Always wanted to be the big I am, but never seemingly happy. He was an alcoholic see. It seems to be par for the course
I'm the same. I've always believed I deserved something special. Never bothered to put the work in to get it mind, but definitely thought I was destined for greatness.
High expectations and low returns results in frustration. It meant that nothing was really good enough. It meant I have never felt grateful.
Of course going on holiday to poor parts of the world and seeing people who never had much but were humble would make me grateful, only for me to return quickly back to ungrateful as I got back to the real business of being me.
This continued for many years but covering it up, as when you hit recovery your supposed to be grateful. I wasn't. I became A master of the fake humility. Particulary fond of the 'fingers on the chin look'. You know the one, when you put your fingers on your chin to appear more earnest, interested and humble. Deep down you know it's a sham and for image. Yes folks I really have been that shallow and self obsessed at times.
Life has been a collection of happenings designed to get what I want or need. Then of course when I don't it leads to deep resentment of others, myself - a general ingratitude. Dis-ease. It's ugly and not an attractive place to be.
So why am I on about that today?
Tonight after a long day at work, I did the gym and got to my home meeting (late) and settled in to listen. I loved it. I felt calm and at home after a full on working week. it felt as comfortable to me as the pub. I felt at home.
Then a few of us from the meeting went for dinner. It was great to spend time with a bunch of sober lunatics eating olives and being brutally honest about our character flaws. Laughing at them, poking fun at them. It felt good. Really good.
Then after dinner I was struck with a sudden bout of gratitude. Holy fuck what is this? How lucky am I? I mean really. I am so lucky to have the pleasure of company of people trying to do their best, live with a mental illness and have a right royal laugh about it. Like a kinship that's unspoken.
It felt so good to just breath, take off the mask of normality and relax with like minded fruitcakes.
I've never had it so good and tonight I realised that. It's a special gift I have this recovery lark. I may not follow it to the limit but I am in it and without it id be truly fucked. I liked being out with my gang from the meeting. It felt good I realised it tonight.
Most of them one in particular is proper old school recovery. None of this floating in the stars bollock. They carry on the spirit of the old school AA. It's what I like to do and it's tip top to be around people like that. It's a laugh in fact instead of the navel gazing, morose self obsessed therapy based types I avoid. (Shit, sounds like this blog)
What is this thing they call gratitude? A warm feeling of wellbeing born of an internal spirtitual feeling not an outside force. It's the equivalent of a large brandy just in a healthier form. I like it. Who knows I may try a bit more of it. After all I am a greedy bastard.
Together We Are Stronger
Nicholas Evans
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