Surrounded: A Story of Relapse & Return

with a visit from Elk — and some thoughts about Armadillos

The relapse had been building for months and I wasn’t even aware of it.

I’m sitting on the couch at my family cabin outside of Bend, OR looking out of the picture window at the ponderosa pines swaying in the warm breeze. The Deschutes River slowly curving up towards a snowy Mt. Bachelor. The sun dancing across the water. Canada geese flying by. Songbirds and warblers fill the air with music. It’s a postcard in real life. I breathe it in.

I’ve got my journal on my lap.

This is the day before a long weekend with my AA Women’s Group. A getaway for us to spend time together, make food, create art, play music, and just hang out and enjoy the space and our company together.

I’m here alone for most of the night before they get here.

I love this space. I love taking the time to write. I start a journal entry about my current feeling of disconnection from myself. While I’m writing, I’m distracted by the call I need to make later this evening to my nesting partner.¹

He’s asked for a daily evening check in so we have regular connection while I’m away. I feel some resentment about the requirement — I know it’s my defiant internal 14 year-old showing up. I tell her we are making that call even if she doesn’t want to.

Then I look up.

There is an elk right outside of the window. Foraging.

If I could reach through glass, I could touch her. I look out the window on my right and there are three more standing there. One of them staring at me. The other two grazing on the lawn. It takes me a minute to register that this hallucination is reality! It doesn’t seem right. I’ve never experienced this in the decades I’ve been at the cabin, but here it is.

I spot a herd of elk in the distance, making their way along the gravel road. Forty, maybe fifty of them, slowly, majestically heading my direction.

I have never ever used the word “majestically” in my life, but there’s not another word I can think of to describe what is happening in front of me!

---

Crap! I’m supposed to make a phone call right now.

I call my partner: “Hey, um…., I’d like to chat but I am currently surrounded by a herd of elk and I’d rather just sit in this space and take it in.”

He says: “Wow. OK. Enjoy. I’ll talk to you later.”

My 14 year-old needs to calm the fuck down sometimes.

---

I sit there for over an hour watching this herd of elk through the window as they graze. I imagine I am a wildlife photographer and I make an attempt at going outside to take a closer picture. The one buck of the herd sees me instantly, shakes his head my direction and grunts. The herd rustles, and I slowly back myself inside the house and just let the situation be.

I am clearly not a wildlife photographer.

---

The sun sets as the herd walks towards the river and disappears along the bank.

I look down at my journal.

I don’t pick up my pen.

I don’t want to write, because if I do I am acknowledging that I have been in a funk since November. If I write it down, it’s real.

Why am I still in this slump? It doesn’t make sense! It’s spring! There is so much good in my life recently. I have some financial freedom this year. I'm part of the founding group of 'Sensitive Souls Creating with Integrity' through The Creator Retreat, where I connect and meet with twenty magical, talented humans from all over the world weekly, if not more! I recently had the gift of experiencing Portugal and Malta. I have an amazing group of women that I will be spending time with at this cabin and still…

There has been this slow turn from my usual schedule of waking up, writing down gratitudes, and jumping into my art studio for a couple of hours before starting work. In these last few months, I have been lying down on the couch in my office in the dark, under a blanket, binge watching murder TV while playing Two Dots on my phone, with my cat cuddled up against my body. A few hours of that and then I’d start work on a job that ended on April 30.

The light in my days was figuring out my Substack, weekly Creator Retreat meetings, and occasional hangouts with friends and family. Other than that, I was isolating.

---

Ironically enough, I am part of a smaller group within The Creator Retreat called the Armadillos. Each group has a mascot and that is ours.² Armadillos ball up into their hard shells and isolate when they feel threatened.

What am I feeling threatened by?

• Challenges with my nesting partner since the holidays. We were having trouble coming back together. We were working on it, but progress was slow.

• Feeling into this new, unknown chapter of my life is exciting, but also scary. What if I fail? What if I’m not interesting or talented enough as a creator?

• Putting my life and my ideas out in writing so publicly creates a new kind of vulnerability. It also opens doors for genuine connection. This is scary too. Still, I feel drawn to follow this path.

• And then there was the drinking dreams and the constant thoughts of drinking just coming in out of nowhere.

I wasn’t letting anyone in my life know what was what was going on for me — not my sponsor, my friends, my partner, myself. I thought that with four years of sobriety, I was fine. This is just a blip and I can handle it. I stayed sober for a year on my own before AA. Of course I can do this on my own, I’ve done it before, and I don’t need to make my current spiral public. I’ve got this.

Or maybe I just didn’t want to be told what I knew was true — I’m an alcoholic and I can’t drink. Ever.

I would rally when needed. I would show up in my joyful and seemingly-centered self. There wasn’t any reason for anyone to notice this gradual descent. I was clearly fine.

I’m good at appearing fine, I’ve been a performer since I was a teenager.

---

A couple of hours later, my friends arrive.

They missed the elk, but liked the story. We went to bed.

I was the first person up in the morning and at 6am. We were once again surrounded by elk! It didn’t feel comfortable to wake anyone up that early, so I let it be. Maybe they’d wake up on their own. If not, maybe the elk would be back tonight.

I made coffee.

There’s a bar at my family cabin. I cover it up with a blanket when I’m there. But in this moment I think: “Hey a little whiskey in your coffee might make this experience even more enjoyable!”

And that is exactly what I did. Without even a pause. I just did it.

The parasite in my brain said: “You have four years of sobriety. You’re fine. It’s just one drink. You can handle this. It’ll be relaxing fun while you enjoy the elk again.”

Any alcoholic will tell you, it’s never just one drink. And it wasn’t. And then…

My higher power, Flo, slapped me right across the face.

She gave me a quick reminder that I don’t have the option of disconnection or taking a first drink. One drink was followed by more. The parasite in my brain had a party!

This disease is no joke.

My AA friends saw it as it happened and gently called me back in. Subtly, calmly, kindly, and without judgment.

• “Hey, let’s go to a meeting together.”

• “How are you feeling this morning?”

• “Let me know if you wanna chat.”

And I was back.

Now I’m counting the days again, going to meetings, talking with my sponsor, and leaning in to speaking my truth even when it’s not pretty.

I’m grateful to Flo that I had my relapse in the best possible location for me. I was obviously going to be ‘caught’ by my AA women. They understand the disease. They love and support me. They want me to have the life I deserve.

And I couldn’t lie to them for long!

I regret that I put them through that experience, and I am grateful that they still stood there and held my hand.

---

Today I’m thinking about elk.

I asked AI what the significance might be based on my story and Claude provided several responses including:

• Community support - Elk travel in herds for protection and survival. This could represent the importance of maintaining your support networks during this challenging time, particularly for your sobriety journey.

• Gentle strength - Elk embody powerful grace. This could symbolize finding balance in your relationship challenges - standing firm in your needs while approaching situations with sensitivity.

• Transformation - In many traditions, elk symbolize regeneration and rebirth. Their visit during this transitional period might represent the potential for personal growth through these challenges.

That herd is a reminder that I am not meant walk alone. My community didn't scatter when I stumbled; they simply moved closer. That’s true not only about my AA women, but also my partners and my family.

Now, as I count days again and feel the familiar rhythm of meetings, creating art, writing, and honest conversations, I'm grateful for this lesson. The elk came to remind me that isolation isn't protection — it's the thing I need protection from.

And armadillos remind me that I don’t need to ball up into my hard shell. This armadillo needs to recognize that there is no immediate threat. This is life. This is just another step towards getting closer to Essential Mel.

And so I step into the herd and the roll³ and I lean back into Flo, humbled by the journey, but not alone in it.

1. In polyamory, a nesting partner is someone you share a primary living space with, essentially your "home base" partner. They don't necessarily have to be your primary partner in a non-hierarchical relationship, but they are the person you cohabitate with and build a domestic life with.

2. One of the members of our group,

Eddie Burns

, made this image for us when we were just beginning our journey as Armadillos.

3. A roll is the collective noun for a group of armadillos.