My baseline thinking as an addict is usually me. I want the universe and all of its' atoms formed or random to revolve around my plans. Whoever came up with the expression "there is no ME in team" was not an addict. I can say that with almost complete certainty. It is not that we don't have feelings for others but that our addiction demands 100% percent of our attention.
In recovery I have found that the biggest problem that fueled my years of self-destruction was the love-hate relationship I had with myself. I would wake up each day and hate myself more and more and my addiction LOVED it. The more I hated me, the more I would turn to chemicals and booze to try to temporarily escape myself. The next day I would wake up with an extra slice of self hatred and some physical pain, guilt and shame to throw into the party mix and the games would begin again for another 24 hours.
For years I thought I was using because the world was all wrong! I realize now that I was using because I was all wrong inside. It was my thinking. I had a twisted perception on reality. More precisely, I used because the people and atoms of the universe didn't act in a fashion that met with my satisfaction. As I grow in sobriety I have learned to like myself by letting the world do what it is supposed to do. I accept others as they are. Most importantly I try not to spend too much time alone in my head. It can become a Wall Street riot up there in a jiffy.
Now sober I work a lot with other alcoholics and addicts new to recovery. I donate time to fundraisers and causes because I am grateful to give back this gift that was freely given to me. I will never give back enough. God and recovery groups gave me my life, family and a purpose to live.
Squeaky and I had been going through a rough season leading up to the "Rally Round Recovery 2011." I was working on a film. I had just returned from California after a week shoot for an "Animal Planet" series. I am in final editing of my book Soul Parole: Making Peace with My Mind, God and Myself. I am about to start 2 new films. I was working to promote the premier of "Chasing Hollywood." I was in hyper mode. This happens in sobriety and reality.
Squeaky's kidney surgery was scheduled for 2 days later. The doctors were not sure if they were going to take a portion of her right kidney or the whole thing. I cleared my schedule of EVERYTHING. I thank God for giving me the sense to do that. I did bring a galley copy of the book that I intended to read as Squeaky lay in recovery. I made arrangements to stay with her while she was in the hospital. They were very accommodating. I never once opened my book.
As the time passed all I could think about was the stupid arguments leading up until that day. Why is it that we have to be in a big pile of shite with a loved one, or their in an operating room or funeral parlor for us to look at how truly dear they are to us? It boggles my mind! We fight about wrapping paper and who ate my cereal? For the love of GOD who cares?!
The surgery went better than we could ever have imagined. They were able to use the Da Vinci robotic method on her and as the doctor said, "if her kidney were a hamburger we only had to take two pickle slices." It was the greatest horrible analogy I had ever heard. It did make me a bit crazy that they assign patients numbers now and have a television you can check like an arrival board at the airport to see if they are "boarding," "on the runway," "ready for takeoff," "inflight," "on the tarmack" and "safely on the ground."
He said she would be staying for 2 nights. That was okay with me. They would know if it was cancer later in the week. She was medicated. Her family was there to support her and me during the day. It kept me calm she smiled and mumbled in post op. She looked glorious. Every time she moved I jumped afraid she was in pain or going to fall out of bed or needed the nurse. I contorted myself up in the tiny Hobbit like chair and slept with one eye open grateful we dodged a bullet.
Being the real alcoholic I am I spent the hours beating myself up a bit. I also reviewed my behavior and realized I was not sharing enough of the projects I was involved in with my wife. I am proud she appeared with me in "Chasing Hollywood." My Squeaky is on IMDB as Pina Connor. That is the Cats Pajamas! But I used to read scripts to her. I used to read all my blogs to her. I used to tell her every career move I was making as I was making them.
I can't tell you what we talked about during her 60 hour stay there. I honestly don't remember. We just talked like we are supposed to when we are focused on each other and I am not so danged worried about the future. We laughed at stupid stuff. I fetched ice chips and cups of coffee. She is a java junkie. I can live with her addiction. I started calling her sliver kidney. She chuckles at the nickname.
Everything I do is for the betterment of the family and out marriage. The problem I have OFTEN is that I have a grand plan inside my head. It is carefully crafted and at the end of the rainbow she will not have to work. We will work together spreading a message of hope and recovery to alcoholic/addicts and their loved ones. She can't see my thoughts. She sees my head hunkered down in front of this laptop like a man possessed. Period. Actions speak louder than thoughts.
Oh! by the way we both stopped smoking. She had to for the surgery. I suggested she had a new lease on life. My birthday was coming up in a week so I said let's quit TOGETHER. Right when my boat starts sailing straight I shoot a cannon ball right through the bottom. Yep! I'm a genius!
In recovery I have found that the biggest problem that fueled my years of self-destruction was the love-hate relationship I had with myself. I would wake up each day and hate myself more and more and my addiction LOVED it. The more I hated me, the more I would turn to chemicals and booze to try to temporarily escape myself. The next day I would wake up with an extra slice of self hatred and some physical pain, guilt and shame to throw into the party mix and the games would begin again for another 24 hours.
For years I thought I was using because the world was all wrong! I realize now that I was using because I was all wrong inside. It was my thinking. I had a twisted perception on reality. More precisely, I used because the people and atoms of the universe didn't act in a fashion that met with my satisfaction. As I grow in sobriety I have learned to like myself by letting the world do what it is supposed to do. I accept others as they are. Most importantly I try not to spend too much time alone in my head. It can become a Wall Street riot up there in a jiffy.
Now sober I work a lot with other alcoholics and addicts new to recovery. I donate time to fundraisers and causes because I am grateful to give back this gift that was freely given to me. I will never give back enough. God and recovery groups gave me my life, family and a purpose to live.
Squeaky and I had been going through a rough season leading up to the "Rally Round Recovery 2011." I was working on a film. I had just returned from California after a week shoot for an "Animal Planet" series. I am in final editing of my book Soul Parole: Making Peace with My Mind, God and Myself. I am about to start 2 new films. I was working to promote the premier of "Chasing Hollywood." I was in hyper mode. This happens in sobriety and reality.
Squeaky's kidney surgery was scheduled for 2 days later. The doctors were not sure if they were going to take a portion of her right kidney or the whole thing. I cleared my schedule of EVERYTHING. I thank God for giving me the sense to do that. I did bring a galley copy of the book that I intended to read as Squeaky lay in recovery. I made arrangements to stay with her while she was in the hospital. They were very accommodating. I never once opened my book.
As the time passed all I could think about was the stupid arguments leading up until that day. Why is it that we have to be in a big pile of shite with a loved one, or their in an operating room or funeral parlor for us to look at how truly dear they are to us? It boggles my mind! We fight about wrapping paper and who ate my cereal? For the love of GOD who cares?!
The surgery went better than we could ever have imagined. They were able to use the Da Vinci robotic method on her and as the doctor said, "if her kidney were a hamburger we only had to take two pickle slices." It was the greatest horrible analogy I had ever heard. It did make me a bit crazy that they assign patients numbers now and have a television you can check like an arrival board at the airport to see if they are "boarding," "on the runway," "ready for takeoff," "inflight," "on the tarmack" and "safely on the ground."
He said she would be staying for 2 nights. That was okay with me. They would know if it was cancer later in the week. She was medicated. Her family was there to support her and me during the day. It kept me calm she smiled and mumbled in post op. She looked glorious. Every time she moved I jumped afraid she was in pain or going to fall out of bed or needed the nurse. I contorted myself up in the tiny Hobbit like chair and slept with one eye open grateful we dodged a bullet.
Being the real alcoholic I am I spent the hours beating myself up a bit. I also reviewed my behavior and realized I was not sharing enough of the projects I was involved in with my wife. I am proud she appeared with me in "Chasing Hollywood." My Squeaky is on IMDB as Pina Connor. That is the Cats Pajamas! But I used to read scripts to her. I used to read all my blogs to her. I used to tell her every career move I was making as I was making them.
I can't tell you what we talked about during her 60 hour stay there. I honestly don't remember. We just talked like we are supposed to when we are focused on each other and I am not so danged worried about the future. We laughed at stupid stuff. I fetched ice chips and cups of coffee. She is a java junkie. I can live with her addiction. I started calling her sliver kidney. She chuckles at the nickname.
Everything I do is for the betterment of the family and out marriage. The problem I have OFTEN is that I have a grand plan inside my head. It is carefully crafted and at the end of the rainbow she will not have to work. We will work together spreading a message of hope and recovery to alcoholic/addicts and their loved ones. She can't see my thoughts. She sees my head hunkered down in front of this laptop like a man possessed. Period. Actions speak louder than thoughts.
Oh! by the way we both stopped smoking. She had to for the surgery. I suggested she had a new lease on life. My birthday was coming up in a week so I said let's quit TOGETHER. Right when my boat starts sailing straight I shoot a cannon ball right through the bottom. Yep! I'm a genius!
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