First of all, the job went VERY well. I was welcomed back with open arms, have wonderful projects to work on and, hell, it was almost like walking into an AA meeting. I got handshakes, hugs, tea... I have a cold, probably due to the stress. It was incredible. I was ordered to "mend". You don't find too many jobs like that, which means I had better not screw this one up (and, again, I don't need others saying, "Yeah, you better not"; it's not constructive. I already KNOW this.)
Tonight, coincidentally, the meeting topic was on trust, which I've already admitted to be struggling with. I can understand my family having their trust issues, as well as my son's mom, because of my relapses. It's not something worth getting into again. They're hurt, they don't completely understand that I'm hurt... we'll talk about it another time.
But what's killing me, yet again, is that I hurt people IN the program. I mean, it's absolutely eating me alive inside. All I had to do was make ONE phone call and I wouldn't be feeling this way. Again, I've gone into this. People are trying to help me through it, yet the ache is AWFUL. I was listening to Blue October in the car this morning on the way to work (which is all about psyche issues and relapse) and found myself with tears down my cheeks while listening to "Hate Me". I don't want to feel this way. But when you find yourself at the package store at 9am, buying 3 liters of vodka to make it through the day, and not picking up the phone... well, what do you expect? You're going to cause people pain! Lots of pain! Maybe I shouldn't be listening to this music right now, but it's what I need, just like writing. "Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you..." (That hurts... the abandonment that I dished out.) And there's far more music like it that's getting to me. "Miss Me", "Loving the Alien", "You Look So Fine". UGH. My cousin says it's cathartic and she's right. I'll get through it, but I need to talk it out. Just wish I could do it NOW (remember, I'm an alcoholic - I want things NOW).
Remember the title, though - Hope and Her Power. Well, I'm going to call this woman Hope (obviously not her real name). I was at a meeting last night (wonderful meeting, saw the same speaker I saw on Saturday and got to speak privately with him) and had a good talk with someone at break time. I took my seat after break and I got a tap on my shoulder. There was a woman sitting next to me that I didn't quite recognize... however, I knew she was sober. You can tell, by the way. The bloat leaves your face, you're not quite as flushed, your eyes have a glow about them that just says, "I'm trying my best." She said, "HI! Don't you recognize me?" I was embarrassed (always embarrassed, always worried about what others are thinking, right?) that I didn't and admitted it. It took me a minute and then it hit me - REHAB!! Not a rehab that I was in - but I spoke to this woman just a few months ago AT a rehab while doing a commitment! Well, we had a nice talk and I discovered that what I spoke to her about "gelled" and she's been sober since. I'm not taking credit for it, of course, because she admitted that it's been a rough road, but something that I said (and my sponsor) really hit her. She's been busting her ass and now has five months clean.
It made me recognize that, when you're sober, you're available. You have something to offer people. You have light in your eyes and a spark in your soul that makes people think, "You know what? I want that, too." I had been feeling pretty low before I saw her... ashamed, again, because I couldn't pull it together myself. But after seeing her, it got me out of my seat and talking to others - telling them, again, what I did, what I plan to do, what THEY thought about my feelings and how I should proceed at the moment. After all, they've ALL been there. Of course, I got the same stinkin' advice from everyone that I got from my friend the day before, "You need to give it 'time'." I'd say, "God dammit, I HATE TIME!!" But another gentlemen also told me, "Well, if you don't like it, I have a drawer full of white chips (24 hour chips) and you're welcome to more of them if you'd like." Um, no, thank you. If I get any more, I might start tiling my floor with them. While it would look sparkly, it would get boring reading "To Thine Own Self Be True" every time you sat on the toilet.
So I would very much like to thank Hope for her power last night - the glow, the smile, the hug. I hadn't been to that meeting in almost two years, so don't tell me it was coincidence. And it's her home group, so I will see her next week, as well. I offered something important just a few months back and didn't even realize it. I could spin it, of course! I could say, "Shit, I couldn't follow my own advice... what an asshole!" That's the alcoholic speaking... the guy on my shoulder whispering in my ear, "If you had skipped a meeting tonight, you would've had more time to relax... why not skip tomorrow night?" To that man, I say to you... Fuck Off. I don't need you. You hurt me and, worse, you hurt my closest friend. You hurt my family. Hell, you even hurt my credit score! FUCK OFF.
Two more things - one, I can feel how badly my friends must've felt because I'm very worried about someone right now. I won't say who, but I haven't heard from him and I'm wondering if I'll have to make good on my threat to bust down that door (also, there's a woman who I know is missing and is drinking again, which is a shame... she really is wonderful, but she's probably sitting on a bar stool).
Second, and I won't name names... but I have a friend who has dealt with an alcoholic family for a very long time. She sent me an e-mail with great advice, but what hit me the most was this line, "Congratulations on not drinking in the ten minutes it took you to read this e-mail." And, so far, she's reminded me every e-mail, "Hey, it's 11:29 (for example) and you haven't had a drink. KEEP GOING."
That's someone who gets it. She's probably been through a TON of pain, gone through the trust issues and the fear, been pissed off and hurt (just like I hurt my friend)... but she gets it. And that's the kind of support that I need.
It's 10:30pm and I haven't had a drink. I went to work, had a great day, heard from someone specifically very special to me, made a meeting... and tomorrow I'm going to rinse and repeat. And I'm going to keep repeating it, GOD WILLING, over and over again. If I have to simply say, "Please, Lord, just give me ten minutes of strength," then I'm going to do it. I'll tell you that I had my 24 hour chip near my chest all day long and I must've gripped it a dozen times... most of the time thinking about what my friend wrote - KEEP GOING.
Hey, maybe Hope is my Higher Power? Who knows? I was reminded that God was often referred to as feminine in early passages... compassion and open arms. Cradling.
Thank you, Hope. And thank you #@!^^ (anonymity, remember) for telling me to KEEP GOING. You made me feel understood and dignified. I haven't *truly* felt that way in a long, long time.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
The Jay-walker
First of all, I would like to thank everyone for the messages that were sent regarding my last entry (oh, and you should be able to comment now). The support, for the most part, was amazing. I was not entirely impressed with the responses of those closest to me, but self-preservation must be observed and respected. I have also been accused of blaming others for this disease, which (I assure you) is not the case. Yes, I have had trauma in my life, but people deal with it differently. Me, I chose to drink (not exactly intentionally and in the way it ended up, but that's what I chose)... that's how several people in my family have chosen to deal with their problems. And I'm sure I'll get shit for saying that, too. But this is my outlet, not theirs. This is the therapy that I have chosen and it may just save my life. And am I ready to bring the rest of my family into what I consider the "sacred halls" of the woman that I confide in ABOUT them? HELL NO. I'm not declining family therapy, but I'm certainly not about to do it under these conditions. I don't even know who *I* am yet! I'm 35 and I have no idea who I am! Thankfully, I know I'm not alone with that issue.
By the way, why the hell is this called Wellbits?? Several years ago, I registered for a site that would allow me to blog a little about my interest in wellness... anatomy, physiology... my real passions. Wellbits sounded like a cereal - like Cheerios! You'd get a little bit of wellness at a time. Not enough to overwhelm, but enough to fill you up when you read it. Wellbits stuck and it seemed appropriate for this new occasion. So there ya go.
I would like to say that today was better. I'm still looking for a roof (although I am blessed to have two friends assisting me at the moment), I'm still jittery about my job (even though I've been specifically told that I could come back... but that's the neurosis in my head), and I'm still very crushed that I blew the trust of some special people. However...
I made two meetings today and it was exactly what I needed. I saw my friends again. I heard the no-nonsense bullshit of people struggling, people dying, people losing it all because drinking seemed like a better choice than living life. Tonight, I was a little late getting to the 8pm meeting (which I usually don't go to - why? Because it's from 8pm to 9pm and that's just FAR too late to make a meeting. Good excuse, right?). But because I was late, I found a table with several people who were there from a local rehab facility. We introduced ourselves and spoke for a bit during break. And I could see it. 3 days sober. 8 days sober. The look of fear in their eyes. The trembling in their voices. It was exactly how I felt when I came back to AA after being in rehab myself (not this time, thankfully... this time I was lucky to have my legs on auto-pilot to get my 24 hour chip and it felt GOOD). But to see and hear how they felt scared me. I've been in their positions at least half a dozen times and it always feels the same way... dark, scary, nauseating. So I told them that, while I had spoken at their rehab several times, I was feeling the same way. And it was that sharing that wiped the nerves and the tears right off the table. That's what this fellowship is all about.
Several other wonderful things happened today as a result of my meetings. Mind you, due my relocation and the amount of work that I have to do, I considered putting the meetings off. Instead, I ran from the house and made both. I spent half an hour standing in the cold after the noontime meeting talking... just talking. We froze our asses off, but we laughed - hard. We told stories about our insane thinking, the stupid things we've done, the awful lessons we learned. It's something that I need to do more of - because, like the sharing we did during evening meeting - this program is NOT about the meetings themselves. It's about the friendships and support groups that you create outside the meetings. You connect with people that know what you're going through and can truly help when push comes to shove.
I was able to see my son this evening - the little monkey. After only a few weeks away, he gets bigger and bigger. I'm tired of missing those moments. Coincidentally, though, I also bumped into an AA member that I consider a friend and a mentor... someone who doesn't sugarcoat things and tells me exactly what I need to hear. I may have missed some time with my son (which I was rather crudely reminded of), but I needed to bump into this person. For some reason... don't ask me why... she's had my back since I came into the program. I truly consider her one of my AA "insiders". She gave me some wonderful advice regarding something that's been bothering me badly and, while she used an awful four letter word ("time"), she was dead-on. I'm also very proud that she recently had an anniversary. Cliche, but one day at a time. And she calmed my stomach regarding the awful betrayal and trust issues I've been facing.
Regarding those issues, I was surprised tonight with a few very tight hugs. Things won't be back to normal for a very long time, but I savored them. I didn't think, "Dammit, she was only being polite," or, "Well, that won't last... she was only being nice." I took them for what they were. And they were very special to me. That's really an understatement. They meant the world to me.
I'm going to end tonight with this story... it's from the book of Alcoholics Anonymous and helped me understand a little bit about what we go through as addicts or alcoholics. It's the jay-walking story. I'm not writing this from the book - I'm pulling this from a site so it may be a bit paraphrased:
"Our behavior is as absurd and incomprehensible with respect to the first drink as that of an individual with a passion, say, for jay-walking. He gets a thrill out of skipping in front of fast-moving vehicles. He enjoys himself for a few years in spite of friendly warnings. Up to this point you would label him as a foolish chap having queer ideas of fun. Luck then deserts him and he is slightly injured several times in succession. You would expect him, if he were normal, to cut it out. Presently he is hit again and this time has a fractured skull. Within a week after leaving the hospital a fast-moving trolley car breaks his arm. He tells you he has decided to stop jay-walking for good, but in a few weeks he breaks both legs."
"On through the years this conduct continues, accompanied by his continual promises to be careful or to keep off the streets altogether. Finally, he can no longer work, his wife gets a divorce and he is held up to ridicule. He tries every known means to get the jaywalking idea out of his head. He shuts himself up in an asylum, hoping to mend his ways. But the day he comes out he races in front of a fire engine, which breaks his back. Such a man would be crazy, wouldn't he?"
"You may think our illustration is too ridiculous. But is it? We, who have been through the wringer, have to admit if we substituted alcoholism or any addiction for jay-walking, the illustration would fit exactly. However intelligent we may have been in other respects, where alcohol has been involved, we have been strangely insane. It's strong language but isn't it true?"
Maybe, just maybe, that will help to illustrate exactly how we think. I have been told to "knock it off" and even to "pull my head out of my ass" (thanks, by the way, that was truly appreciated and great constructive criticism). That's not how this thing works. If you are very, very lucky, you'll get it on the first or second try. But even that scares me because I know the odds. So to those friends of mine who have been lucky enough to pull together a few months more than I ever did, please be careful (and I am SO proud of you, by the way). Know that I think about you every second of the day and pray that fire engine never hits. But if it does, I'll be there for you. I pushed you away when I got hit, but I promise (as I said in my last post) that I will come crashing through that door to pull you to safety. Whether you're a sponsor, a sponsee, my dearest of friends (and you know who you are) or just an acquaintance who shares this affliction - I will pull you out. I may not be able to do much more than that, considering my head is clearing once again, but my legs are under me and, while I may look scrawny, I'm a pretty strong guy. I WILL pull you out.
There are too many people to thank specifically tonight for all of the responses I received for my last entry (considering it's 2:30am), but I will get to you... don't worry, anonymity will be kept. Also, thank you to all those who welcomed me back today at noon and 8pm with open arms.
I look forward to a new day and a new week. It won't be easy - probably one of the toughest weeks I'll experience - but I know there's an entire network that has my back. I can do this. As long as I remember those surprise hugs that I received tonight, I know I can do this.
You're the best friends I've ever had. Somehow, someway, I will repay you.
Goodnight.
By the way, why the hell is this called Wellbits?? Several years ago, I registered for a site that would allow me to blog a little about my interest in wellness... anatomy, physiology... my real passions. Wellbits sounded like a cereal - like Cheerios! You'd get a little bit of wellness at a time. Not enough to overwhelm, but enough to fill you up when you read it. Wellbits stuck and it seemed appropriate for this new occasion. So there ya go.
I would like to say that today was better. I'm still looking for a roof (although I am blessed to have two friends assisting me at the moment), I'm still jittery about my job (even though I've been specifically told that I could come back... but that's the neurosis in my head), and I'm still very crushed that I blew the trust of some special people. However...
I made two meetings today and it was exactly what I needed. I saw my friends again. I heard the no-nonsense bullshit of people struggling, people dying, people losing it all because drinking seemed like a better choice than living life. Tonight, I was a little late getting to the 8pm meeting (which I usually don't go to - why? Because it's from 8pm to 9pm and that's just FAR too late to make a meeting. Good excuse, right?). But because I was late, I found a table with several people who were there from a local rehab facility. We introduced ourselves and spoke for a bit during break. And I could see it. 3 days sober. 8 days sober. The look of fear in their eyes. The trembling in their voices. It was exactly how I felt when I came back to AA after being in rehab myself (not this time, thankfully... this time I was lucky to have my legs on auto-pilot to get my 24 hour chip and it felt GOOD). But to see and hear how they felt scared me. I've been in their positions at least half a dozen times and it always feels the same way... dark, scary, nauseating. So I told them that, while I had spoken at their rehab several times, I was feeling the same way. And it was that sharing that wiped the nerves and the tears right off the table. That's what this fellowship is all about.
Several other wonderful things happened today as a result of my meetings. Mind you, due my relocation and the amount of work that I have to do, I considered putting the meetings off. Instead, I ran from the house and made both. I spent half an hour standing in the cold after the noontime meeting talking... just talking. We froze our asses off, but we laughed - hard. We told stories about our insane thinking, the stupid things we've done, the awful lessons we learned. It's something that I need to do more of - because, like the sharing we did during evening meeting - this program is NOT about the meetings themselves. It's about the friendships and support groups that you create outside the meetings. You connect with people that know what you're going through and can truly help when push comes to shove.
I was able to see my son this evening - the little monkey. After only a few weeks away, he gets bigger and bigger. I'm tired of missing those moments. Coincidentally, though, I also bumped into an AA member that I consider a friend and a mentor... someone who doesn't sugarcoat things and tells me exactly what I need to hear. I may have missed some time with my son (which I was rather crudely reminded of), but I needed to bump into this person. For some reason... don't ask me why... she's had my back since I came into the program. I truly consider her one of my AA "insiders". She gave me some wonderful advice regarding something that's been bothering me badly and, while she used an awful four letter word ("time"), she was dead-on. I'm also very proud that she recently had an anniversary. Cliche, but one day at a time. And she calmed my stomach regarding the awful betrayal and trust issues I've been facing.
Regarding those issues, I was surprised tonight with a few very tight hugs. Things won't be back to normal for a very long time, but I savored them. I didn't think, "Dammit, she was only being polite," or, "Well, that won't last... she was only being nice." I took them for what they were. And they were very special to me. That's really an understatement. They meant the world to me.
I'm going to end tonight with this story... it's from the book of Alcoholics Anonymous and helped me understand a little bit about what we go through as addicts or alcoholics. It's the jay-walking story. I'm not writing this from the book - I'm pulling this from a site so it may be a bit paraphrased:
"Our behavior is as absurd and incomprehensible with respect to the first drink as that of an individual with a passion, say, for jay-walking. He gets a thrill out of skipping in front of fast-moving vehicles. He enjoys himself for a few years in spite of friendly warnings. Up to this point you would label him as a foolish chap having queer ideas of fun. Luck then deserts him and he is slightly injured several times in succession. You would expect him, if he were normal, to cut it out. Presently he is hit again and this time has a fractured skull. Within a week after leaving the hospital a fast-moving trolley car breaks his arm. He tells you he has decided to stop jay-walking for good, but in a few weeks he breaks both legs."
"On through the years this conduct continues, accompanied by his continual promises to be careful or to keep off the streets altogether. Finally, he can no longer work, his wife gets a divorce and he is held up to ridicule. He tries every known means to get the jaywalking idea out of his head. He shuts himself up in an asylum, hoping to mend his ways. But the day he comes out he races in front of a fire engine, which breaks his back. Such a man would be crazy, wouldn't he?"
"You may think our illustration is too ridiculous. But is it? We, who have been through the wringer, have to admit if we substituted alcoholism or any addiction for jay-walking, the illustration would fit exactly. However intelligent we may have been in other respects, where alcohol has been involved, we have been strangely insane. It's strong language but isn't it true?"
Maybe, just maybe, that will help to illustrate exactly how we think. I have been told to "knock it off" and even to "pull my head out of my ass" (thanks, by the way, that was truly appreciated and great constructive criticism). That's not how this thing works. If you are very, very lucky, you'll get it on the first or second try. But even that scares me because I know the odds. So to those friends of mine who have been lucky enough to pull together a few months more than I ever did, please be careful (and I am SO proud of you, by the way). Know that I think about you every second of the day and pray that fire engine never hits. But if it does, I'll be there for you. I pushed you away when I got hit, but I promise (as I said in my last post) that I will come crashing through that door to pull you to safety. Whether you're a sponsor, a sponsee, my dearest of friends (and you know who you are) or just an acquaintance who shares this affliction - I will pull you out. I may not be able to do much more than that, considering my head is clearing once again, but my legs are under me and, while I may look scrawny, I'm a pretty strong guy. I WILL pull you out.
There are too many people to thank specifically tonight for all of the responses I received for my last entry (considering it's 2:30am), but I will get to you... don't worry, anonymity will be kept. Also, thank you to all those who welcomed me back today at noon and 8pm with open arms.
I look forward to a new day and a new week. It won't be easy - probably one of the toughest weeks I'll experience - but I know there's an entire network that has my back. I can do this. As long as I remember those surprise hugs that I received tonight, I know I can do this.
You're the best friends I've ever had. Somehow, someway, I will repay you.
Goodnight.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
My Poison - Version 1.0
I'm an alcoholic. I've never admitted that publicly - I mean, openly, without reservation, without question. I AM an alcoholic. I'm not a successfully recovered alcoholic (if there is such a thing). I'm a relapser. I'm a binger. You put one drop in me and I become unintentionally suicidal. I'm also dual diagnosed - depressed, anxious... but what came first? Was is it the depression that caused the alcoholism or was it the other way around? I'm not sure it matters at this point.
The reason I'm writing this is because I'm tired of secrets. I'm tired of cover-ups. I'm tired of holing myself in hotel rooms, drinking 3 liters of vodka in a day, having to call 911 and then being told by the hospital that they can't treat me anymore because I've been there 5 times in 2 weeks.
I've been drinking for ten years now. My ex-wife left me years ago and I can very clearly tell you that's when I crossed the line. It wasn't her fault... she had her own issues. But I took it hard. One bottle of scotch in a weekend quickly became a half liter of vodka each night. That quickly become one liter a night. That became a drink in the morning just to function... until I got off the train, ran home for another drink before I got sick.
After five years of this (I was a daily drinker in only six months), I knew I had a serious problem on my hands. I wasn't choosing to drink. I HAD to drink. And I did ask for help, but I was asking in all the wrong places. AA was too spiritual. I was too smart for RBT. Therapists simply didn't understand the abuse I endured as a kid from my step-dad; that my mom was enabler; that my real dad left when I was little. There was always an excuse. I should mention, to be fair, that my parents were only acting the way that they learned from their own parents.
But that's history. What's gripping me now is that I've been trying hard for three years, through AA, to get sober. I get three months and I relapse. I get four months and I relapse. Each time I rebuild my relationships - whether with friends, family or coworkers - I then relapse and destroy them again. It's gotten me into legal trouble, six detoxes (at least), three "sections", countless hospital visits and admissions. When does it end? When I'm underground?
I have a son... a three year old who lives with his mom because his dad is too irresponsible to take him unsupervised. I try to keep up with child support, but eventually I'm going to lose my job again and all of that will be in jeopardy. Long term - I want to see him grow up, be successful, graduate, make something of his life. And, hopefully, skip this disease. His mom is wonderful, too. She's done her best, endured my relapses, and tried to stabilize a loving home for this little boy of mine. But it's been a roller-coaster.
What's really destroying me this time is that I had a friendship that was like no other I've had in my life. I had a real connection with someone special - someone who shared my experiences and who trusted me... trusted my advice, trusted my ability to listen. I grew close to the family, I made sure the person knew that she wasn't alone and that we would, if we worked at it, get through this. In fact, we made a pact - should either of us be in trouble, find that we couldn't handle the stress, couldn't handle family or relationships or life - that we would immediately call each other and find help. I broke that pact in a big way.
Rather than ask for help, I pushed her away. I pushed my sponsor away. I pushed my family, my son, my ex away. And all my friend wanted to do was help - to save my life. But I wouldn't allow it. I was ashamed, embarrassed, drunk... and I didn't want my friend to experience any of that. Had I simply picked up the phone, I would've had help at my door within minutes. Instead, my disease had already taken over and told me - No. I feel like I broke her heart. The remorse is overwhelming.
I had a slight disagreement this evening with my ex. She said that no one put a gun to my head and made me drink. Well, I don't believe that... not entirely. And I think that's what's misunderstood about addiction. For some of us (not all), the choice isn't there. When you've been drinking for years, wires criss-cross. There is no choice. When the brain tells you that you're going to drink, there's no arguing. Not only have I experienced it, I've seen it with many of my friends. Ask an alcoholic, "why did you pick up again?" The answer is usually, "I don't know."
But again, whether we know why we relapsed or not, we still have to face the consequences (should we survive). And I'm having a real problem with this one. I violated a trust that took months to build and, only if I'm lucky, will rebuild. And for that, I am incredibly sorry. I can hear the hurt in her voice and the look in her eyes is entirely different. There's no more talking like we used to and the confidence is gone. I'm crushed and I'm sure she is too. And don't think I'm claiming to be the victim here - this was my doing. There are no words to truly express how horribly I'm feeling right now.
I do know one thing... mending can happen IF you're willing to work at it. I asked a dear friend of mine tonight what to do. I admitted (VERY unusually for me) how I felt. The advice went beyond "one day at a time". She told me to let someone else row the boat for a while. I hadn't thought about doing that... to sit in the middle, meditate, heal my own heart and then let my navigator take me to my destination when, and only when, he or she thought that I was ready. Scary thought for an alcoholic or addict - because we want things NOW. I want the pain gone NOW. I want to hit landfall, leap from the boat and have everything perfect NOW. But that's not how life works.
There's so much work to do, yet all I can do is put one foot in front of the other. Slowly, surely, the solutions will come. Things will mend. Patience, however, is not one of my best virtues. I had better start practicing, though.
If you've read this far, then you now know my story.... or parts of it. You know why I disappear the way that I do and why I'm high one day and low the next. I don't mean to be this way. I didn't choose this lifestyle and I need to learn NOT to be ashamed of this. Yet, I still have to take responsibility. I need to work at this, just like any other medical patient, to keep this in remission so I don't betray the people I love any longer. My heart is broken to know that I violated my friend's trust the way that I did. Who knows how long it'll take to mend? My hope, however, is that coming clean will be the first step in the process. And to ALL those that I've hurt, I apologize.
Lastly, I'd like to thank a certain nurse that planted this seed in my head. She took the time to sit, talk candidly about her own experiences, and it made me want to open up. No more secrets. No more lies.
I recently posted on my page the song "You Got No Right" by Velvet Revolver. One of the most powerful lines, I believe, is "Funny when I'm here I find myself... inside a paper cup. Without a warning or a reason it's a treason with no answer." I'm tired of the paper cups, the detox drugs, the foggy head, the librium legs - and especially the treason of this disease. I know myself when I'm clear headed and that, frankly, I'm a pretty damn nice guy. I simply need to maintain that. And if I can maintain it, then I have a pretty good shot at life.
To my family, friends, and especially the one I betrayed - I am deeply, deeply sorry. Like she said, "Forgiven, but not forgotten." I understand that. But I'm willing to work at this. And I feel like I just took a big step. If you want to judge me for my actions, that's you're right. I'm putting my bat down, though. It's time to stop beating myself up, to admit what I am without shame, and move forward while asking for help. For once, I've hit something that I just can't beat solo. I would never suggest anyone else try it alone. So why have I been? It's impossible.
Time to drop the pride, the ego, the over confidence... and admit, for once, that I can ask for help and "that's okay."
The reason I'm writing this is because I'm tired of secrets. I'm tired of cover-ups. I'm tired of holing myself in hotel rooms, drinking 3 liters of vodka in a day, having to call 911 and then being told by the hospital that they can't treat me anymore because I've been there 5 times in 2 weeks.
I've been drinking for ten years now. My ex-wife left me years ago and I can very clearly tell you that's when I crossed the line. It wasn't her fault... she had her own issues. But I took it hard. One bottle of scotch in a weekend quickly became a half liter of vodka each night. That quickly become one liter a night. That became a drink in the morning just to function... until I got off the train, ran home for another drink before I got sick.
After five years of this (I was a daily drinker in only six months), I knew I had a serious problem on my hands. I wasn't choosing to drink. I HAD to drink. And I did ask for help, but I was asking in all the wrong places. AA was too spiritual. I was too smart for RBT. Therapists simply didn't understand the abuse I endured as a kid from my step-dad; that my mom was enabler; that my real dad left when I was little. There was always an excuse. I should mention, to be fair, that my parents were only acting the way that they learned from their own parents.
But that's history. What's gripping me now is that I've been trying hard for three years, through AA, to get sober. I get three months and I relapse. I get four months and I relapse. Each time I rebuild my relationships - whether with friends, family or coworkers - I then relapse and destroy them again. It's gotten me into legal trouble, six detoxes (at least), three "sections", countless hospital visits and admissions. When does it end? When I'm underground?
I have a son... a three year old who lives with his mom because his dad is too irresponsible to take him unsupervised. I try to keep up with child support, but eventually I'm going to lose my job again and all of that will be in jeopardy. Long term - I want to see him grow up, be successful, graduate, make something of his life. And, hopefully, skip this disease. His mom is wonderful, too. She's done her best, endured my relapses, and tried to stabilize a loving home for this little boy of mine. But it's been a roller-coaster.
What's really destroying me this time is that I had a friendship that was like no other I've had in my life. I had a real connection with someone special - someone who shared my experiences and who trusted me... trusted my advice, trusted my ability to listen. I grew close to the family, I made sure the person knew that she wasn't alone and that we would, if we worked at it, get through this. In fact, we made a pact - should either of us be in trouble, find that we couldn't handle the stress, couldn't handle family or relationships or life - that we would immediately call each other and find help. I broke that pact in a big way.
Rather than ask for help, I pushed her away. I pushed my sponsor away. I pushed my family, my son, my ex away. And all my friend wanted to do was help - to save my life. But I wouldn't allow it. I was ashamed, embarrassed, drunk... and I didn't want my friend to experience any of that. Had I simply picked up the phone, I would've had help at my door within minutes. Instead, my disease had already taken over and told me - No. I feel like I broke her heart. The remorse is overwhelming.
I had a slight disagreement this evening with my ex. She said that no one put a gun to my head and made me drink. Well, I don't believe that... not entirely. And I think that's what's misunderstood about addiction. For some of us (not all), the choice isn't there. When you've been drinking for years, wires criss-cross. There is no choice. When the brain tells you that you're going to drink, there's no arguing. Not only have I experienced it, I've seen it with many of my friends. Ask an alcoholic, "why did you pick up again?" The answer is usually, "I don't know."
But again, whether we know why we relapsed or not, we still have to face the consequences (should we survive). And I'm having a real problem with this one. I violated a trust that took months to build and, only if I'm lucky, will rebuild. And for that, I am incredibly sorry. I can hear the hurt in her voice and the look in her eyes is entirely different. There's no more talking like we used to and the confidence is gone. I'm crushed and I'm sure she is too. And don't think I'm claiming to be the victim here - this was my doing. There are no words to truly express how horribly I'm feeling right now.
I do know one thing... mending can happen IF you're willing to work at it. I asked a dear friend of mine tonight what to do. I admitted (VERY unusually for me) how I felt. The advice went beyond "one day at a time". She told me to let someone else row the boat for a while. I hadn't thought about doing that... to sit in the middle, meditate, heal my own heart and then let my navigator take me to my destination when, and only when, he or she thought that I was ready. Scary thought for an alcoholic or addict - because we want things NOW. I want the pain gone NOW. I want to hit landfall, leap from the boat and have everything perfect NOW. But that's not how life works.
There's so much work to do, yet all I can do is put one foot in front of the other. Slowly, surely, the solutions will come. Things will mend. Patience, however, is not one of my best virtues. I had better start practicing, though.
If you've read this far, then you now know my story.... or parts of it. You know why I disappear the way that I do and why I'm high one day and low the next. I don't mean to be this way. I didn't choose this lifestyle and I need to learn NOT to be ashamed of this. Yet, I still have to take responsibility. I need to work at this, just like any other medical patient, to keep this in remission so I don't betray the people I love any longer. My heart is broken to know that I violated my friend's trust the way that I did. Who knows how long it'll take to mend? My hope, however, is that coming clean will be the first step in the process. And to ALL those that I've hurt, I apologize.
Lastly, I'd like to thank a certain nurse that planted this seed in my head. She took the time to sit, talk candidly about her own experiences, and it made me want to open up. No more secrets. No more lies.
I recently posted on my page the song "You Got No Right" by Velvet Revolver. One of the most powerful lines, I believe, is "Funny when I'm here I find myself... inside a paper cup. Without a warning or a reason it's a treason with no answer." I'm tired of the paper cups, the detox drugs, the foggy head, the librium legs - and especially the treason of this disease. I know myself when I'm clear headed and that, frankly, I'm a pretty damn nice guy. I simply need to maintain that. And if I can maintain it, then I have a pretty good shot at life.
To my family, friends, and especially the one I betrayed - I am deeply, deeply sorry. Like she said, "Forgiven, but not forgotten." I understand that. But I'm willing to work at this. And I feel like I just took a big step. If you want to judge me for my actions, that's you're right. I'm putting my bat down, though. It's time to stop beating myself up, to admit what I am without shame, and move forward while asking for help. For once, I've hit something that I just can't beat solo. I would never suggest anyone else try it alone. So why have I been? It's impossible.
Time to drop the pride, the ego, the over confidence... and admit, for once, that I can ask for help and "that's okay."
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Does It Happen Now?
After almost five years of misguided attempts at a blog, does it happen now? Am I sure? Do I really want to use the web to broadcast in essay form my deepest and darkest feelings? Why did I call this blog Wellbits?? Will my tongue ever stop aching from the two hundred Sour Patch Kids that I've consumed this weekend?
And, most importantly, will I be honest about what I post, regardless of what others think? I feel the answer is Yes. I have to. If I don't, I'm likely to explode and leave traces of fruity, Sour Patch digestables all over the room. That's not healthy for anyone.
And, most importantly, will I be honest about what I post, regardless of what others think? I feel the answer is Yes. I have to. If I don't, I'm likely to explode and leave traces of fruity, Sour Patch digestables all over the room. That's not healthy for anyone.
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