Well, for those of you keeping up with the posts (I wonder how long I can keep these up??), yesterday was not the best day. I mean, man, 'a day at a time'? What the hell! I was barely making it through five minutes. I did trust that things would be better today, though I accepted that may not be true either, and I was right to trust - things were better. I felt more... stable. Work was a little less crazy, a little more distracting, a little more fun and the right amount of social atmosphere to keep me going. At five o'clock, I didn't say, "I should really catch up on my calls." I said, "See ya Monday... I'm DONE."
I was looking forward to the meeting tonight and it certainly was excellent - I've heard the incoming group several times and there's one person in particular who's always inspirational. I absolutely love hearing her because she makes me laugh and I relate at the same time. But I didn't leave the meeting feeling "good". I'm not there yet. There were some people that I absolutely enjoyed talking to and others that drove me nuts with the unrequested advice. TIME - "Things I Must Earn". It's okay coming from two people... one person who has been writing to me frequently to help me get through this rough patch (love ya!) and also my sponsor. I must've heard it from five other people tonight and I was about ready to throw a punch. The only reason I would never hit my sponsor is because I'm scrawny and he's huge and I would end up with two black eyes and ovaries instead of testicles. I like my testicles very much. I also left feeling lonely, even though I was surrounded by friends. That's the worst part about being an alcoholic. The inner loneliness that you can feel, surrounded by hundreds of people, is monstrous. It's why many people drink in the first place. The distance I'm feeling from very specific people is still killing me. It's a grief thing. Even though I was the irresponsible party, I'm grieving (that's why I was so unstable yesterday). I'm not going through each stage of grief one at a time. Instead, I'm vacillating between guilt, then denial, then guilt again with the loneliness, then anger, then bargaining, then guilt AGAIN. I've got to be honest... it blows. I wish I had something wittier to say about it. It simply blows. Am I drinking over it? HELLLLL NO. Yet, I also don't feel like going to my noontime meeting tomorrow. I absolutely will, but I don't feel like it. Ahhhhh depression, how I love thee.
By the way, my ass looks pretty good in those new jeans. Thank you again, depression!
I thought this was worth mentioning because it was a highlight of being in the hospital (believe it or not, there were highlights while being hooked to a telemetry monitor and being ordered to call a nurse if I needed to take a leak!). I don't know who I was waiting for or if I was listening to Christmas carols, feeling isolated and wondering how the @#%^ I was going to get my life together, and I heard this tapping near my door. It was like a click, click, click, click... very slight. Here I am, thinking the Valium is making me trip out ("What the hell is that?! Wait... where am I? WHO AM I?! OH MY GOOOOOOD!"), and I see a little snout poke around my doorway. I was visited by one of the most well-behaved furry dogs I've ever seen in my life. What a treat! His name was Dana and his trainer led him in and he came right up to me - let me pet him, kiss him, hug him. For at least thirty minutes that day, I felt like I had a friend. It's amazing what animals can do for the spirit. And not only that, his trainer sat down and talked to me... just talked. She knew why I was there and simply wanted me to feel a little less, I don't know, confined? Undignified? Guilty? All of the above? Dana. I will never forget you or your master. Again, for thirty minutes, I forgot that I was 'different'.
And in case I didn't mention this before (I've been writing so much, I'm starting to forget... I feel like I'm repeating myself occasionally), I've never been treated better than I was at this last hospital. A lot of places take in alcoholics and addicts and "treat 'em and street 'em". We don't get the help that we need most of the time. I've been seen by social workers who seem BORED listening to my history. There are a few exceptions and those people have my total respect and my heart. Again, I must say that this last hospital admission was incredible. I spoke to social workers, doctors, Dana (I love Dana!!), but especially to my nurses. *Every* nurse that I had sat with me, listened to my hurt, and even shared their own experiences and how they were able to find the strength to carry on (it seems like everyone has a story about addiction!). I felt understood. And to the nurse who sat with me for nearly thirty minutes, told me about her family, listened about mine and inspired me to start this blog - I will never forget you. It seems that, by sitting with me, you've been helping others in a major way... the e-mails that I'm getting are powerful and inspirational. Again, I WILL get back to you - if I can put down my new addiction called blogging.
Anyway, this was another dual-named (dual-diagnosis??) post. I was thinking about Dana today at work and how much the little clicking of his paws meant to me. I was streaming some music at the time and the song "Simple Man" came on. You know, I have NEVER actually listened to the lyrics to that song. It's like "Free Bird" or "Sweet Home Alabama"... you just roll with it. I was having a good work day, but I almost started crying at my desk (which would have been weird... "Dude, you should hear this song by Leonard someone or other. It's SO touching!"). Between Dana and hearing, "be a simple kind of man / Oh, be something you love and understand," I was on the verge of losing it. "All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied."
Because that's the damned point, isn't it?? What else IS there in life? When you walk into the hospital (WALK, I said... remember that) with a BAL of .44, you should drop to your knees and thank God (or Hope) that you're not in a freakin' coma! That's not satisfying! Work is great, but that's not satisfying. Relationships can be fulfilling, but they're not completely satisfying either.
You know what was satisfying? Look at my Facebook photo today (as of 12/16/11). That was a hike up Mount Monadnock with a friend, stopping to take pictures now and then, but also stopping to simply look out... breathe, take in the scenery, say Hi to fellow hikers, get some exercise, forget about alcoholism and finances and job hunts and family stress. It's what life is all about.
And it made me think about my son, too... what kind of lesson am I teaching my son if I think remoting into work is more important than making Play-Doh pizzas? Do I want to be the dad that works weekends or the dad that suits up during a snow storm to make forts?
For years and years, I've missed Curly's lesson (remember Curly from City Slickers??). Life is about one thing and it's up to you to find it. Well, I think it's about simplicity. As an alcoholic, I complicate the hell out of life. I set the bar so high I can never reach it. I start jobs that will never get finished because they were too complicated to begin with. I become friends with people that are so incompatible with me that we become enemies, simply because I wanted them to like me to begin with.
I feel a little better getting that out tonight. Keep it simple. You'll never enjoy life if you don't. You might have a hard time taking it from me, the guy who thought "simple" was forgetting his friends to live in motel rooms while drinking to pass out. But I do have first hand experience that, when sober, true simplicity comes from looking at the sky with a clear head, taking a deep breath and thinking, "Today is going to be all right with me."
Try it tomorrow. If you don't have a smile on your face after doing it, let me know.
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