I Want My Sausage WITH Peppers AND Onions! (Original Unedited)
As a person in recovery, long after the booze and dope is out of your system you begin to live life the way it's really coming at you. The years of escaping are gone. You begin relearning who you are. There are incredible moments of growth and personal victories as you discover life on its terms. When your emotional IQ has been frozen in time by the effects chemicals have had on it, it takes time in catching up with your body and actual age when you get sober. There are times when as a recovering alcoholic-addict, or maybe just as a human, I see myself regress. The difference between the using me and the recovering me is that I can reflect on my actions and be confident that I don't have to use over the rush of emotions. Then I review my day to search out the real cause of my emotional backslide.
I had one of THOSE days yesterday. I am working on a benefit for a dear friend and things were not going MY WAY. This is the great distress of any addict. It was one thing after another. With each rejection for a donation I was getting more irritable and I did not sleep well the night before. I have been nursing a pain in my side that I am convinced is either a twisted fallopian tube, Tay Sachs or Sickle Cell. As I made my calls and was pummeled with unsympathetic replies I was making notes for my memorial service.
My son came home and asked if I wanted him to start dinner. As a budding chef, I jumped at his offer. The menu for the night was to be hot Italian sausage (sossage for those outside of Chicago) with onions and peppers on hoagie rolls. This is fine dining in my world. Soon the house was filled with the sweet smells of the "Holy Trinity" of cooking and the crackling sounds of what would be a culinary combination that rivals only corned beef and cabbage and surf-n-turf.
I was feeling a little better as I prepared to sit down at the table, knowing a great meal was moments away, and the nearly extinct family sit down was at hand. My boy was starving and had one of the tasty creations as we waited for the queen to get home. I started wrapping up my work and waited for the dogs to rush the office door downstairs, a sure sign that Squeaky was home. Within minutes there she stood ravenous and beat. She had been through a similar day at the office as I had.
I know my wife has had a rough day when she drops her things, grabs a plate and a drink and makes her way straight to the table. I finished sending out some follow-up emails. I could see my son was already sitting down with yet another sausage slathered with peppers and onions. Squeaky made hers and asked me if I wanted her to make mine. From behind the screen, as I was hitting send, I eagerly replied, "yes".
I logged off my computer. I took my usual spot at the dining room table and folded my hands for grace. I thanked the LORD for his blessings, and some other points I needed to hit, and opened my eyes. I looked down at my plate to see a poor naked sausage shivering alone on my hoagie roll! I was horrified! Speechless! I looked at my wife and son stuffing the falling bits of pepper and onion back onto their sandwiches. Then glanced back down at my lonely, naked, orphaned pork delicacy.
My emotions ran rampant! I was filled with jealousy, hurt and deep resentment. I was left out. Why hadn't I gotten any peppers and onions? Upon questioning my wife dryly replied, "Sorry I finished em'. There weren't that many left. You can have some of mine if you want." 'IF YOU WANT.' The words rang in my ears like I was taking the last dime from a starving orphan! I was doing the math in my head and concluded that my son had TWICE his allotted share of peppers and onions! I sat for a moment at the wiener mocking me from my plate with disdain. Who are these people at this table? Are there pods under their beds?!
You can't have french fries without ketchup! There is no peanut butter without jelly! I will not eat green eggs and ham! It was all there and I was pouting. I didn't say a word but my face spoke volumes. Eating the naked sausage felt like sacrilege. I didn't make a peep. That's a rarity for me. They both knew I was unhappy but munched along in happy oblivion.
After dinner I mentioned to my wife that my feelings were hurt. When I was using I would have made a scene or stormed out the door with my excuse to get high completely rationalized. I realized I was tired. I knew I was smarting from the donation rejections from earlier in the day. Trying to help a friend with little success was the real thing that was making me agitated. The peppers and onions were just my emotional tipping point. I went up to bed early and spent some time talking to Squeaky. Addicts like me tend to dwell on the sausage not on the pig.
When I woke up today my message box was filled with offers of donations from friends and strangers from around the country. There were paintings, golf rounds and financial support. The response was overwhelming. Who needs PEPPERS?!
Everyday I learn more about myself and I'm growing. Sometimes I take a few steps back, but that's okay if I don't dwell on the negative and continue to move forward. My addictions want to draw me back into dark thinking where it can thrive. I am grateful I have no desire to use but I am sorting through a lot of the "ic" that comes along with being an alcoholic. WE recovering addicts don't get our panties in a bunch over death, divorce and calamity. We do when there's no peppers and onions.
I had one of THOSE days yesterday. I am working on a benefit for a dear friend and things were not going MY WAY. This is the great distress of any addict. It was one thing after another. With each rejection for a donation I was getting more irritable and I did not sleep well the night before. I have been nursing a pain in my side that I am convinced is either a twisted fallopian tube, Tay Sachs or Sickle Cell. As I made my calls and was pummeled with unsympathetic replies I was making notes for my memorial service.
My son came home and asked if I wanted him to start dinner. As a budding chef, I jumped at his offer. The menu for the night was to be hot Italian sausage (sossage for those outside of Chicago) with onions and peppers on hoagie rolls. This is fine dining in my world. Soon the house was filled with the sweet smells of the "Holy Trinity" of cooking and the crackling sounds of what would be a culinary combination that rivals only corned beef and cabbage and surf-n-turf.
I was feeling a little better as I prepared to sit down at the table, knowing a great meal was moments away, and the nearly extinct family sit down was at hand. My boy was starving and had one of the tasty creations as we waited for the queen to get home. I started wrapping up my work and waited for the dogs to rush the office door downstairs, a sure sign that Squeaky was home. Within minutes there she stood ravenous and beat. She had been through a similar day at the office as I had.
I know my wife has had a rough day when she drops her things, grabs a plate and a drink and makes her way straight to the table. I finished sending out some follow-up emails. I could see my son was already sitting down with yet another sausage slathered with peppers and onions. Squeaky made hers and asked me if I wanted her to make mine. From behind the screen, as I was hitting send, I eagerly replied, "yes".
I logged off my computer. I took my usual spot at the dining room table and folded my hands for grace. I thanked the LORD for his blessings, and some other points I needed to hit, and opened my eyes. I looked down at my plate to see a poor naked sausage shivering alone on my hoagie roll! I was horrified! Speechless! I looked at my wife and son stuffing the falling bits of pepper and onion back onto their sandwiches. Then glanced back down at my lonely, naked, orphaned pork delicacy.
My emotions ran rampant! I was filled with jealousy, hurt and deep resentment. I was left out. Why hadn't I gotten any peppers and onions? Upon questioning my wife dryly replied, "Sorry I finished em'. There weren't that many left. You can have some of mine if you want." 'IF YOU WANT.' The words rang in my ears like I was taking the last dime from a starving orphan! I was doing the math in my head and concluded that my son had TWICE his allotted share of peppers and onions! I sat for a moment at the wiener mocking me from my plate with disdain. Who are these people at this table? Are there pods under their beds?!
You can't have french fries without ketchup! There is no peanut butter without jelly! I will not eat green eggs and ham! It was all there and I was pouting. I didn't say a word but my face spoke volumes. Eating the naked sausage felt like sacrilege. I didn't make a peep. That's a rarity for me. They both knew I was unhappy but munched along in happy oblivion.
After dinner I mentioned to my wife that my feelings were hurt. When I was using I would have made a scene or stormed out the door with my excuse to get high completely rationalized. I realized I was tired. I knew I was smarting from the donation rejections from earlier in the day. Trying to help a friend with little success was the real thing that was making me agitated. The peppers and onions were just my emotional tipping point. I went up to bed early and spent some time talking to Squeaky. Addicts like me tend to dwell on the sausage not on the pig.
When I woke up today my message box was filled with offers of donations from friends and strangers from around the country. There were paintings, golf rounds and financial support. The response was overwhelming. Who needs PEPPERS?!
Everyday I learn more about myself and I'm growing. Sometimes I take a few steps back, but that's okay if I don't dwell on the negative and continue to move forward. My addictions want to draw me back into dark thinking where it can thrive. I am grateful I have no desire to use but I am sorting through a lot of the "ic" that comes along with being an alcoholic. WE recovering addicts don't get our panties in a bunch over death, divorce and calamity. We do when there's no peppers and onions.
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