For those of you who have missed a few blog posts, there have been some big events happening for the Grateful Nuts. We celebrated out first year as recovery bloggers, and we are getting close to finishing a remodel of our about a quarter of our house. In my last post, I covered the joy of completing one year of recovery blogging. This week, I wanted to focus a little more on our remodeling project. When I say we are remodeling, what I mean is that a crew of professionals are remodeling, and I get to watch in awe. In many ways, the project has been an unexpected gift of recovery treasure.
For the last few weeks or so, I have watched carpenters, painters, electricians, plumbers, and drywall finishers, speed through tasks that would take me hours to plan let alone attempt. I would come home from work and see an entirely different house than the one I left each morning. My awe of the precision and speed of the crew has never wavered. I admire the crew even more for how they embrace change directly without complaint. Please understand, that these guys thought they were signing on for a small, two-week job.
Not A Simple Project
The project started simply. My wife, Nina, and I needed a new shower in our master bath. The idea was to put a four-foot-by-four-foot tile shower into the corner of the existing bathroom. We also had a dip in the floor on one side of our bed that needed attention, and hoped we might could have a closet organizer built for the bedroom closet if it wasn’t too much to ask. However, the shower was the priority. Repairing the floor? Bonus. If the closet organizer didn’t make it into the project, not a big deal, we could tackle it on our own, if necessary. Little did I know that small start would lead to recovery gold.
That small plan evaporated as soon as the contractor and my brother-in-law began jumping up and down on different parts of the bedroom floor to check for other weak spots. My wife and I quickly realized that removing the floor of the bedroom would come next. What followed after the carpenters carefully lifted the first hardwood plank out of its resting place was a combination of necessity and “since-we-have-to-do-that….”
For example, the suspected single floor joist problem was an entire floor system problem demonstrated best when one of the carpenters dropped his hammer on to the subfloor where our bed used to sit and watched the hammer fall straight through to the ground underneath.
He looked up from the hole and calmly told my wife, “One maybe, two years, and your bed would have fallen through the floor, but we will get it fixed for you the right way.”
The necessary replacement of the entire bedroom floor led to a “since-we-have-to-do-that” (replace the floor), we might as well replace the 1970s wood paneling on the walls. The removed paneling showed wall studs that had previous termite damage, which also needed to be replaced. Then, the “since-we-have-to-do-that” approach led to the inspection and eventual replacement of ceiling joists. By this point, there was no longer a need for a closet organizer because there was no longer a closet.
Finding My Role
Still, the guys kept working on the next issue of the ever-changing job like it was no problem. They stopped to answer questions I had. If they found a new problem, they would bring it to my, or most often, my wife’s attention. Nina, who despite working four to five days a week, made time to be around most often during construction and did an awesome job of communicating changes and making decisions that kept the now large project moving. I often came home in time to see what happened during the day and that is about it.
At some point, knowing I was completely out of my depth as far as the construction project, I began to look at things I could do. First, it was simply cleaning up piles of yard trash that had lingered, slowly rotting while I worked two jobs and made excuses to avoid yard work. One large pile of logs and limbs sat in the way of a planned place for an additional car shed. I moved that and began prepping the site.
With the help of my wife and brother-in-law, I began removing hedges that were in the way of the blossoming construction project. That kick-started an idea for a major over-haul of the yard in general. I simply found something I could do to help, and started doing it. None of it was easy. Along our entire house are overgrown hedges that have been in place at least 20 years if not 50. Each foot of freed flowerbed came with a cost of dirt and sweat coated clothes and hours of struggle. There were several bouts of frustration, a little bloodletting, especially in a battle with a large holly bush, and a few broken tools, but I kept making progress.
My Recovery Remodel
In many ways, the whole project has reminded me of my battle to get clean and sober. I knew in the last months of my drinking that I had some type of physical ailment. Taking a few drinks was the only thing that stopped my nearly hourly nausea and vomiting. I honestly did not think I was an alcoholic despite all of the glowing neon signs pointing out that I had every symptom of alcoholism. Instead of continuing to battle with a disease that clearly had me whipped, I finally called on experts to help me fix a small problem.
Admittedly, I went to rehab instead of having rehab come to the house, but you get the picture. I needed professionals to take a look at all that was wrong and offer suggestions of how to fix it. Just like the carpenters who could tell what changes needed to be made and how bad of shape our house was in, doctors and substance abuse counselors took one look at me, and knew I was not a small, two-week project.
Those professionals went to work on the worst of my physical and mental health problems. As new problems were revealed, they didn’t panic. They adjusted course and kept working. Like most alcoholics, on the surface, I didn’t look terrible, and when I finally took a shower, got a haircut, and shaved, I looked almost respectable. Much like the hardwood floors in our bedroom, once you looked past my outsides, you could see I was literally about to collapse. Exactly like the bedroom renovation, there was no way I could fix me. I needed professionals to get that job done. However, there were things I could do.
Changing the Things I Can
In rehab and after, I got to work on the little things I could do to get better. I read every piece of recovery literature I could find, and I listened to the advice of others who had learned to live sober. Instead of hiding from possible triggers, I began the work of removing decades-old character defects that had led me back to the bottle, repeatedly. I changed my behavior and pried open my mind to the possibility that someone other than me had better ideas about how to live life. Instead of hoping that someone would “fix” me, I took action when and where I could. I did little things to improve my daily life while the big things, such as the obsession with drinking and making amends, slowly improved with professional help.
Much like the project on the house, my own work continued long after I finished treatment. I had to keep improving little by little each day. Some days were easier; others required sweat and lots of tears. Once of I was out of rehab, I relied on others for support and direction. Much like having my brother-in-law and Nina pitching in to help remove shrubs around the house, I didn’t have to recover alone. I had a sponsor to guide me through the steps and friends in recovery who shared their experience.
Similar to my time in rehab, I am beginning to get a little sad about the renovation project ending. Don’t get me wrong, I will be super happy to be back in our bedroom sleeping in our bed. Even more so knowing I don’t have to worry about falling through the floor. I was also grateful to be out of treatment and back into the world so to speak. But, I miss the counselors and doctors I met there, and I will miss seeing the construction crew each day. I will miss sharing a smoke break with them, joking about fishing trips or talking about their families or next projects. In a way, these guys have become friends. The impact they made on my life I will treasure for years to come.
Lessons Learned
Much like my many friends in recovery, I learned from this construction crew. They work hard to be the best at what they do. None of the guys are arrogant about how skilled they are at their jobs. They don’t try to hide how good they are either. If they make a mistake, they correct it. (Honestly, they rarely make mistakes because they have spent hundreds of hours doing the same tasks.) When they see something needs to be repaired, they fix it instead of hiding the problem with new construction. If they are unsure what needs to be done, they ask questions. They are what I hope to become in recovery.
If I continue to practice the little things I do each day, I will stay sober. I have no reason to brag about being clean and sober, but I don’t have to hide my success either. Sober is not a dirty word. When I make a mistake, I need to acknowledge it immediately and fix it. I am getting better about this. Still, I often don’t realize my mistake until someone else shows me. Then, I do, with a shocked look on my face, work to fix it. The last part continues to be my biggest hurdle. If I don’t know what to do, I will ask a question or ask for help. Unfortunately, I do this when I have exhausted every other option. In that respect, I have a long way to go to be more like the construction crew.
As I have continued to grow in sobriety, I realized I can find recovery treasures in every part of my life. Sometimes I find those recovery treasures when I see people who are being poured into a car after drinking too much at a concert. They remind me of who I was and the burden I was to others.
The best recovery treasures I find have nothing to do with drinking at all. They come from people who are like the guys on this construction crew. They have shown me who I want to become. I will never be a skilled carpenter. However, the life lessons I have learned from this crew can help me develop into a better person. I just need to implement them one day at a time.
