The End is Near... The Beginning!

There are many past New Year Eves that are blank to me. Every day was New Year's to me, because I would drink or use or both and say to myself "I am gonna quit tomorrow.” I made resolution after resolution, night after night, but I was trapped in tomorrows and yesterdays, until December 31, 2008.

On that date, I stopped drinking for ten days, then drank for six more. I have not had a drink or a drug since January 17, 2009. I had tried counseling in 1992 and rehab in 1999. I would do okay for a while, but then I would isolate myself. Sure I occasionally went to the bars, but my favorite way to party was alone with a bottle and a box of tissues. My self-pity is the fire; booze is the bomb. When we got together, "Kaboom!"

The New Year is the most popular time for joining recovery groups. Some go because the court orders them. Others go because their spouses issue ultimatums. Some individuals have FINALLY realized they can't stay sober on their own. They need help from people just like them. I lived my life thinking no one was like me, yet there are addicts of all shapes and sizes in recovery programs, ready to help folks JUST like me.

If you were lost in a jungle, would you prefer a map or a guide who has walked that same jungle a hundred times and could safely navigate the way out? The answer is obvious. Unfortunately the ego, fear, and disease of "self" have worked on the alcoholic for a long time. It is hard to accept you have a disease that tells you don't have it and makes any drinking an unsafe option.

Our society glamorizes booze and promotes it as a social norm. The constant bombardments of the fun and laughter that come with a cocktail are inviting to anyone and damn near hypnotic porn to an alcoholic. The commercials remind me of the casino ads that show gambling, hot chicks, laughter, and booze, then end with a public service announcement: "If you, or someone you, know has a gambling problem, call 1-800-I'm screwed!” The ads don't show the guy who spent his paycheck on chance instead of paying the rent. Addiction starts out a wonderful servant and ends up a merciless master.

Most people can tie one on, and that's it. They wake up with a New Year's Day hangover and lay on the couch drinking Gatorade and nursing a headache through endless football games. That doesn't make you alcoholic. For those of you who are, or live with, a potential alcoholic, I am sorry to say that there is nothing you can say to make us stop. We must reach a point where the agony, self-loathing, depression, anger, and chaos are too much for US to handle. In short, we all must decide for ourselves when the rat race of addiction has become too much to endure another moment.

For me, it was January 17, 2009. I had drank the previous day and pissed the bed that night. There were times I pissed on the floor, on the couch…you name it. My lab Fabian has actually pissed on my floor fewer times than I have. At the end of my run, I would even fashion a diaper for myself, knowing I would piss again, but found nothing abnormal about the behavior. I even bought my wife one of those mini carpet cleaners to clean up after the "dogs" made a mistake. On that night, I begged whoever was up there to please deliver me from my bondage. I meant it and was willing to do ANYTHING to stop.

When I wet the bed, my wife always knew, but I hid it from the kids. After everyone left, I would clean and suck the urine from our expensive mattress, wash the sheets, and place fans around the soiled area to assure dryness before my crew returned home from school and work. After six months of sobriety, my wife was so proud, she wanted to buy me a new drum kit. I was humbled by her amazing act of grace, and the offer was tempting. I declined and took her to the mattress store. I let her pick out the mattress of her dreams. I can say confidently, and with deep gratitude to God, that I have yet to pee on it.

Only you can decide if you are an alcoholic or addict. Do you obsess that you may be an armadillo? I would think not. However, if you are at a point where your ability to stop using doesn't work, or your life revolves around using, recovering from using, and obsessing about using, you need to hard look at your situation. If you’re the loved one, there is support for people in addictive or codependent relationships. Regardless of what addiction you may have, if you want to truly begin a new way of life, look in the phone book. Start with the letter "A" and go from there. Before you know it, help will appear on the page. Remember, whether you are the user or living with one, you still have to wake up with “you” everyday. Start taking control of your life today.

I no longer resent people who can drink safely and then stop. At one time, the thought of not drinking five years down the road or at my daughter's wedding was impossible to comprehend. Now, I let tomorrow take care of tomorrow. I just don't drink for today. We all only have today, whether we’re an addict or an earthling.

My justification for continuing the cycle of addiction was notions and memories like, "Nobody loves me.” "I am a loser." "I hated my childhood." " I can't tell anyone about the ‘tickle game’ a trusted adult played with me when I was a boy." "I can't live without booze; the pain is too much." These are symptoms of unhealthy THINKING. Drugs and alcohol are the band-aid addicts use to mask that pain.

Most of the things I wanted but couldn’t attain when I was drunk, have come to me tenfold in sobriety. It feels great to have my wife and kids smile at me when I walk in the door. I am confident that I am a good husband, father, son, brother, and friend. I am human and still make lots of mistakes but people can depend on me. I can look at myself in the mirror and other people in the eye. All the things that when drunk I planned to do tomorrow, I am doing today, thanks to sobriety. It isn't always easy. It’s work staying sober.

Nevertheless, if I stay close to God and people who think like me, it gets easier. I have no desire to use today. That is a miracle. I may crave alcohol tomorrow. Instead of obsessing on the thought until it becomes a drink I will pray for help and then call someone who has been through the same hell as I have. I have been taught new strategies to battle my old thinking.

However, asking for help and surrendering is just the beginning. Nevertheless, sobriety is amazing. Just because you get tanked occasionally doesn't make you like me. Alcoholics know what they are, long before reaching out for help. We think we hide it so well, and nobody sees our addiction. We are only fooling ourselves. I was amazed to find out that there were people with my same crazy thinking.

Tonight I will sit back with my wife and daughter, bowls of tasty snacks, and Dave Chappelle videos. We will laugh. I will remember the whole night. I will wake up in a dry bed, and I will thank God for giving me another sober TODAY.

A Sliver of Hope, a New Direction and a Genius Idea!

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!

Welcome to Zanie's for the First Time Tommy Connolly!

In the last chapter Ain't Life Zany?, I mentioned that performing there represented a closing of the circle for me from addiction to sobriety. It was also opening a door of comedy opportunity and a milestone in my new life. It nearly didn't happen at all.

Bert Haas is the "man" at Zanies. Average in size with an infectious smile, he is all business. When he says be on time it's not a California suggestion. It's a Judge's edict. I was coming in from Plainfield and left the house at 6pm thinking 90 minutes was more than enough time to reach the club with time for a quick bite. Squeaky and my oldest daughter Andrea were accompanying me on my peacemaking journey and we were in for the ride of our lives.

Every conceivable traffic snarl, accident and construction slowdown was thrown up in front of us. The trip down the double nickel usually took 40 minutes. 40 minutes into this trip we were only at Harlem Avenue. Thankfully God graced someone with GPS design and technology. We shot through Berwyn and Cicero and all of the back streets that shot off of Ogden Avenue. We literally pulled up to the club at 7:30. I double parked in the bike only lane, kissed Squeaky and made a mad dash for the front door.

The wonderful girl at the door must have been expecting me because instead of a "Hello" I got a "Through the kitchen and up the stairs." I arrived at the top of the club out of breath, sticky and panicky. Mr. Haas was there too. He curtly greeted me with a "I was just coming down to look for you." I was the last guy to make it. I have been told if you are late you are out of luck.

I have done dozens of showcases in comedy clubs around Chicago. Loosely speaking a showcase is a show that features a variety of comics. There is no feature or headliner, just an emcee and a parade of hopefuls. This was a true SHOWCASE. It is where you are showcasing your talent for the booker to play at the club or other clubs the booker handles. Bert gave a great crash course on comedy, expectations, jokes, being a pro, rejection and life. It was priceless advice for a comic or anyone trying to achieve any goal in life.

I was the old guy in the room at 45. The average age of the other comics was about 25. The mix of size and shape of my fellows was diverse in race and ethnicity. It was a comedy melting pot. My head was spinning but I wasn't nervous. I really didn't have heady expectations about the performance. As I sat looking at the talent around me I was grateful to be among the few who get the chance to play such a legendary venue.

I was performing tenth or there about. The walls were covered with signed pictures from all the greats. I could fill the rest of this page with names alone. I smiled when I saw David Brenner's photo hanging across from the bar and a short distance from the ladies room. He had a ringside seat to all the action. He would like it that way. I snapped a picture to send him as a memento. It was also a reminder of those days when I walked by in a different dimension. In that moment I was in crystal clarity.

The house was packed and many of my friends came to see me perform. The youngsters that hit the stage before me were good. Some of them amazing. A couple of them will be stars. I sat with my wife and daughter at the rear of the club waiting for my number to come up. I was lucky. My number should have been up a long time ago.

I stroked Squeaky's hair and looked at my beautiful daughter and some new realities hit me and old ones were solidified. As for the new, I am a good comic but it is becoming a young man's sport. These boys had game. I will not become the "next big thing." I am cool with that. The new breed is faster and sharper. I didn't start performing comedy until I was 40! There is a market for guys like me. I have come pretty far pretty fast in five years, two and a half of them sober.

I am a story teller. I look forward to the release of "Soul Parole" and getting out on the road and telling people the story of my life as a depressed drunken caterpillar and my new life as a sober, functional, husband, father, actor and comic butterfly. I enjoy my work with Comics for Convicts. I will never stop performing. It's in my blood. Making people laugh is my greatest high and no one gets hurt when I use it.

The true reality of the night was seeing new friends and old school mates in the audience there to cheer me on. I have a great wife and kids. I have wonderful people in my life that I can have true working, functional relationships with. Addicts don't have that luxury. I may not make it as a big star or play Vegas. I have appeared in and been featured in some great films already with some amazing actors in just 10 months. I have played Zanie's. I am rich beyond anything Ben Franklin's can provide.

I held my own on stage. I did not slay 'em nor did I bomb. I held my own. I hugged my friends and I thanked Mr. Haas. Then I thanked God for all his grace. I got in the car with my beautiful wife and daughter, the true riches in my life, and headed home. The ladies were dosing off as I reviewed my performance. I always think I can do better.  I don't know where things are headed but I trust God. He's been doing a great job running my life when I let him. The sounds echoed in my ears..."Please welcome to Zanie's for the first time Tommy Connolly." It was the first. It may be the last. But it was.

I am Here...

In a few months "Every Day is a Gift" will be published as a book by Amazon. It will be titled "Soul Parole." I had no intention of writing a book about my addictions and depression. I have always wanted to pen a novel. There were many nights when I would sit with drink in hand and fancy myself a future Hemingway writing of safaris and wars abroad. My life has been an adventure. The wars were fought inside my head.

It has been strangely nostalgic reading through the 140 plus chapters I've written and see the changes in me and my thinking. I see progress and setbacks. There's forging ahead and old patterns and behaviors. A few are wrought with depression and "dry drunk" rantings. All of it is real. All of it is me.

I will be donating a portion of the proceeds of my book to the publishers by obligation. I will be gratefully donating a portion of my proceeds to area addiction programs, homeless shelters and a clinic that studies mental disorders. I am not setting out to become an L.A. author. I like where I'm at and I have to share the gifts God has lent me. They are not mine. They are to be used to give thanks for his grace and glory.

I want to say thanks for helping me. I thought my mind dumps were to only help others. I hope they helped you or someone you know. Ultimately we help each other. That's the whole key to finding some semblance of peace on this spinning blue ball we call earth. When I help someone else I get out of me, my anxiety, depression, obsession and selfishness. I do not have to look far and find some one who has it much worse than I do. That puts my cry for me and more in to realignment lickety split.

The 1 year anniversary of my father's death is in a few days. I miss him more, not less, each day. I started the acting thing in October of 2010. In 9 months I have appeared in 5 TV series and 7 films, 3 commercials and an industrial film. I know he would be proud. It all still numbs my mind. Next week I leave for Los Angeles for a week long shoot on a project for the Animal Planet. I carry a memento of Dad on every project I do. He would like that. I have found my calling. I am blessed and have worked tirelessly to get so far so quickly. I know my 28 years of living like a chameleon in addiction has made acting natural for me.

Thank you all for being my friends and my support group. Thanks for letting me bare my soul and share my war stories and small victories. As you can see from recent blogs our family has new battles on the horizon. God will get us through as long as we trust him and don't get in the way. I know the pain. I know the odds. I am prepared for all the possible outcomes.

I will continue to rant. I hope you continue to read. I pray that you see that facing your demons, no matter what they are, is possible and the key to reasonable happiness. I am always going to be a little nutty, a little left of center one day and a little right of it the next. That's just me. I am starting to like me. I am comfortable spending time with me. I no longer feel the need to run away from myself and escape into a bottle, jug, pill, porn shop or addiction of the week club. I take things as they come. I do my best and leave the outcomes to my FATHER. I have choice today. I choose living!

These Days Everyday is Independence and Dependence Day...

As we move in to Independence Day weekend I have much to be thankful for and emotions, old and new, flood my mind. What comes to mind first is that today I have a CHOICE NOT to use. For many years I had no choice. I was going to use no matter how sick, sorry, broken, lost, loved, hated, rich or poor I was. I am no longer a slave to an obsession, compulsion and allergy that makes for a three headed monster that can not be beaten by oneself. PERIOD!

There are those who quit using alcohol or drugs. That is not sobriety. That is merely no longer feeding the beast. The person is just "dry." The issues behind the need to use have not been addressed and the halting of use leaves the person filled with anger, resentment, self-pity, martyrdom, uniqueness and a generally discontented life. That is the norm. Drinking and drugging was a symptom to deeper lying problems that were festering on the surface and deep within me. Depression, low self-esteem and critical thinking were at the core of who I was. I didn't like me. I was trained to feel less than. Chemicals made me okay with me until they turned on me and doubled my misery.

Today I have found I am not unique in my thinking. I am a unique person. My problems, feelings, life experiences, pain and how I reacted to them are personalized to me but are interchangeable with any addict or alcoholic. What a relief! It was a lot of pressure being a one of a kind drunk in a planet populated by billions of human beings! We are all the same. We just did the same things in different places with different people. I am proud to say I am just an average drunk and addict.

It wasn't until I was able to get over my "self" that I began to get different and become comfortable with me and you and the world around me. Addiction and recovery is an inside job. I am starting to like hanging out with me. I still have a hard time taking compliments but at least I can sit with me and be okay. It is a daily project of growth repairing me after 40 years of malfunctioning thinking and self destructive habits.

It wasn't until I was okay with me that I could begin to have real relationships free of conditions or motives with other human beings. For years I thought people were out to leave me, hurt me or screw me over. Now I get great satisfaction out of being of use to others and getting nothing in return. That is an oxymoron because knowing I am now a productive, useful citizen and someone who can be depended on gives me great inner satisfaction. Making someone else happy or giving them ease makes me smile inside. The what's in it for me mentality that goes with addiction has faded.

As far as dependence goes I am no longer dependent on chemicals but am on GOD, friends and family and new thinking to get me through the day to day challenges and wonders of life. I do not have to go it alone. What a cold isolated existence that was. I need others to help me when I don't have the answers or the insights to a problem I face. I seek counsel from my FATHER and friends because I don't want to get lost again. I used to dread not knowing what to do so I would guess and hope for the best. Now I turn to others to point me in the right direction.

As for my depression, it is what it is. Like my alcoholism is arrested and not cured, my depression can be managed but not eliminated. I get the blues but I don't have to let them lead me to dark chasms of despair. I can recognize them, pray for help, call a friend and reach out and get out of myself and then I don't have time to think about the blues. When I get too wound up I can recognize the manic side of depression and find a quiet place and meditate and chat with the big guy until the elevator comes down a few floors.

The thing I love most about my life now is that I don't sweat the future too much and I have made peace with my past. Right now is so cool and whether I wish to accept it or not it's all there is. I have missed too many todays sick from yesterdays and freaking on tomorrows. Time slows down in the present. I enjoy the moment as much as possible. That doesn't mean that some planning doesn't occur. I just don't worry about where I'll be in 2033.

I am grateful for the pain God has put me through. I have learned a lot from it. It has also given me experience that I now share with others who are just coming into recovery. I share my pain, I gain their trust. Never trust a chef who won't eat his own food, right? God saved me for a reason 237 times at least. I used to question why. Now I just say thanks and try to be a messenger of his love and grace and a steward of his unending mercy. I know he loves me. That's good enough. I can't impress him or earn my way to paradise. I can do "on earth as it is in heaven." Just to say thanks for giving me a break 237 times or so. 

Big Guy Jumps In to the Match Of Mom of Two Knocks Out Big Mouth Irish Boy!

It has been a long day for me. I went to pick up some of my father's tools today from when I worked with him and found myself sobbing early in the day. My mentor is in the hospital and I got into a fight with my mother. That's life. Mine is no more or less challenging than yours. We all have different crosses we bare and baggage we haul around.

Yesterday I wrote and deleted a blog called "When Dreams Crash Into Realities," or something to that effect. It revolved around an argument I had with my wife, who at that moment thought of me as "less than a man" because I am unemployed and my acting and comedy combined with my unemployment are not enough to cover our monthly expenses currently. My child support is $600 dollars a month and my wife is mad that the government won't reduce it even though I am unemployed. I am happy to pay the money. I just wish I knew where my daughter is and I have tried to get a reduction twice. We got into a huge fight. We have about 3 a year. I questioned everything right down to our relationship.

I have always made less money than my wife and was the one who was at the kids' first day of kindergarten, first grade, 2nd grade, 3rd, etc. I am proud of that. I am proud of her career. I have been a salesman my whole life and was one the whole time I used. I don't think that a man's income should be the basis of his "manhood." I don't think the way a woman cooks is a reflection of her "womanhood" or "femininity." I stated that I was not going to go back to sales because it is a huge trigger for my addiction. The fight was worked out between my wife and I but today I am troubled by the fact that I deleted the blog and let someone else tell me what was right and wrong with my life without knowing a thing about it. I probably should not have posted the blog until I was cooled off but I definitely should not have removed it once I put it out there.

I have made many mistakes in addiction and sobriety and will continue to. My name is at the top of the blog. I share my feelings, deep feelings much more than the average bear. It takes some stones to do that. It took none to remove the blog. If you choose to follow great. I write for myself in hopes it helps you. I will never again remove a blog to be a populist or an apologist. I am a click away from soduku or Facebook. I love my wife. We have settled our differences. My next blog will be what I consider a man to be and a woman to be. Don't step into act 5 of a movie (my life) and think you have the answers. If you have read all 117 entries I may listen more be slow judge and slower to speak.

The following are the comments that created my retraction of the blog by "Mom of Two." I do not know who she is. I respect her opinion. Her comments are public as they were listed on my blog. Her remarks made me react. The second comments are from Patrick Bagdon a Comedian and friend whom made some very valid points about what I am trying to do with this blog. Charles Bukowski is one of my favorite writers, not role models. One thing he said is "don't be afraid to roll the dice." Most people are. I am not. When I retracted my blog I picked up the dice. I will never do that again as an artist or writer or blogger. God Bless us All!

Mom of Two Don't be angry at your wife for wanting you to become a husband and pay half of the bills. Everyone would love to do another job....unfortunately usually another you like less pays the bills. Suck it up....be a man, stop using "I'm going to go back drinking if I don't get my way" excuse for doing only what YOU want to do...hence....your wife not respecting you. You should now take ownership in your recovery and know that life is not easy and full of stress and that you will have to do things to get through without your crutch....Lets see if you can do it....Your daughter has every right to the money she gets. You chose the alcohol over her at one point. That will take years off her life as she begins therapy as a young woman. Take ownership Tom. Life isn't a bowl of cherries and pay homage to your wife for being strong, loving you, when most would have said "get out"......just saying....

Patrick Bagdon Comedy has left a new comment on your post "Mom of Two Knocks Out Big Mouth Irish Boy!":  
If you are going to do a blog this personal, sometimes people won't like what you say. In my humble opinion you shouldn't have removed any of your posts, if you didn't mean it on some level you wouldn't have written it. If this is the "Touchy Feely Totally Safe" version of your "True" feelings and only what has been approved by the public will get to stay, why are you wasting everybody's time and your own? Either bring it or leave it.I didn't get the chance to read what "Mother of two" said, but who cares what she said. It's only her opinion and if you are going to remove any content that gets negative feedback then this entire experiment is for nothing. I support your right to express yourself, but when you say something you can't let people goad you into pulling the plug on yourself. You have shown your soul here and that takes guts, don't let one person (Or 1 million people) with contrary opinions silence you. In other words, keep writing my friend. Only the living and the free have a voice, you're both-cherish it.

Me a Cop? "The Chicago Code" Basic Police Code Course with John Folino, Jr.

I hope you guys caught last night's episode "Cabrini Green" on "The Chicago Code".  I was in the FOX episode 3 times. I am truly grateful to be a part of such a quality show that focuses on the real life portrayal of the life of a Chicago police officer. Detective John Folino, Jr. is the "go to guy" and technical advisor who works with show creator and writer Shawn Ryan. He makes the show authentic and insists on "respect for the uniform." He also embraces the importance of the brotherhood that is represented in the show. Sunday, I was lucky enough to take a basic police code course for the program with John, Henry Rush, a Veteran of the force, and a handful of "Chicago Code" actors.

It was surreal for me as I drove to the course which is taught in Elmwood Park, Illinois. In my years of active alcoholism and addiction, Elmwood Park was close to where I spent my year plus days of homelessness and total despair. Stone Park was my turf for 2 years as I struggled to find sobriety. When I say home, I was homeless living in my car, occasionally staying at one of the many transient motels along Route 45/Lagrange Road. As I drove by some of those old haunts, bars and liquor stores, I couldn't help but remember the pain I endured as an addict 14 years earlier. At that time, Lagrange Road in Stone Park was a playground for drunks, dealers, thugs and Vice. I blended in perfectly with the scenery, stumbling to my hotel, living my life in a loop of addiction, fear, pain and isolation.

As a person who made it to the other side of addiction and alcoholism, I couldn't help but thinking every day really is a gift. I knew then that each day that I hopped on the merry-go-round of hell that had become my life, might be my last. Folino pointed out to us that every day an officer leaves for work he realizes it may be his last. As I flashed forward to my participation in the class I was reminded that I am one of the lucky ones and sobriety is truly amazing. I was actually driving toward the police and was looking forward to spending my day with them. In those dark years, I did everything I could to avoid them. It would be more likely for me to dine with Elvis than to spend an afternoon with a guy and a badge.

The course is designed for extras and actors to learn some basic police vocabulary, weapon handling, cuffing and protocol. The goal of the course is to teach "respect for the uniform and the people who risk their lives to protect us daily." One of the interesting things John hit on was the city of Chicago flag and its meaning. The 2 blue bars represent the Northside and Southside. The four red stars represent the Great fire of 1871, the 1893 Columbian Exposition, Fort Dearborn (commerce), and the Century of Progress World Exposition. Thank John and Henry for that info when you win your next game of trivial pursuit.

       (Truly honored. Me and Det. John Folino, Jr., Technical Advisor "The Chicago Code.")

The thing that struck me the most about John was his passion and dedication to his profession and his insistence to keeping consistent, professional respect for wearing the uniform for the city of Chicago. As a full-time member of the force and his work on "The Chicago Code", Folino still makes time to teach actors how to "portray" an officer on his time off. John also works with families of fallen officers who gave their lives to serve and protect US! From the way a hat is properly worn, to the proper presentation of the uniform, no detail is too small for John to overlook.

Most "cop" shows pay little attention to protocol and the respect that should be given to the position of honor as an officer. We spent most of our day discussing that. We learned proper weapon handling, cuffing, searches and professionalism. John Folino and Henry Rush are two guys who represent the city, the department and "The Chicago Code" the way it should be, with integrity and honor. I look forward to future courses Mr. Folino rolls out for the cast of the show.

By participating in the show it opens up more opportunities for me in season two. You guys keep watching because the show only gets hotter from here. People have said I could be related to Jason Clarke's character Jarek. I hope casting thinks the same way. I will still pursue my dream of landing a speaking role on the show. That would be amazing. If not, I know that if I am cast as an officer or detective, I will treat the uniform and position with the greatest respect.

It's been 14 years since my addiction put me on the other side of the badge. Sobriety and recovery are a gift that I don't take lightly. Stressing the importance of how members of the Chicago Police Department are brothers and family, working with each other to make our world safer, reminds me of recovery itself. You can't do it on your own. That's the fact! You can start your life over any day you choose to when you are "sick and tired of being sick and tired." I am living proof of that. A few short years ago when I was lost in addiction and booze you could never get me to believe I would be taking a police training course and on a hit TV show. The fact that I have, is testimony that in sobriety anything is possible.

When your house is on fire and you see a huge red firetruck racing to save your home, there's relief. Your first thought is of thanks that your home may be saved. In most cases when folks like you and me see a police car with flashing lights we think, "Oh no, what did I do?" Both professions are there to make our lives better and our communities safer. I understand that now and will never look at a police officer the same way again. Thanks John, Henry and Darlene! Keep watching!

Sometimes Recovery Really Makes Me Want A Drink!

Based on the small number of reads I've had on my blog reflecting on how hard it is to forgive myself for my past, either it really sucked or it was avoided completely due to the subject matter. If you avoided it because it hit a nerve, I'll make sure I don't write about denial. If you are planning on reading it, and just haven't gotten around to it, a procrastination blog will send head your head spinning - someday.

This is blog 98 since I started it on December 13, 2010. 99 is going to be from my wife's perspective on her experiences living with me and her ex husband who also had drinking issues. Number 100 will be a summary, and then we'll see what happens. God will let me know how to proceed. It fascinates me that out of the 97 blogs I have written, and over 5000 reads in 60 days, that the comments have been about a dozen total. It shows me that people are interested in my experiences but don't want to be the one at the front of the classroom with a question.

If you ever need to reach out and don't want to comment, email me directly at tommyconnolly@att.net . I will do my best to share my experience with you and point you in the right direction to finding support. I will answer all emails to the best of my ability based on MY experiences with addiction and recovery. I am not a doctor. I'm a recovering drunk and addict. Admitting there's a problem is the first step in solving any crisis. The willingness to reach out for help is the wild card. Nobody wants to admit that they are out of control or risk being found out. Believe me, you're out. Addiction and recovery is a team effort, not a solo act.

I have written about being homeless and wanting to take my own life in my beautiful home. I have written about doing scenes with Jennifer Beals, William H. Macy and Kate Winslet. Through most of my addiction, I was just a working stiff. I was a functional alcoholic and addict. In using the word functional I am referring to the fact that I held a job, looked fairly normal, was a part of the family and put on one helluva show. I didn't get wasted until after work and on weekends. If I stood in a line-up of 10 people, and you were asked which one was the fall down drunk, I would probably be your tenth choice.

The first response an addict or alcoholic does when contemplating whether they have a problem is to look for all the differences in the stories they hear. Common thoughts amongst the alcoholic are "I never did that" or "I make a ton of dough and drive a nice car, drunks live in the gutter" or "I never got arrested." Some other "Top 10 drunk denial excuses" include: "I go to work every day", "I never had a DUI", "I can stop whenever I want to, I just don't want to", "If you had my life you would drink too", "I'm different!" Please let me make it clear that addiction doesn't care what you drive, wear, do for a living or if you are sipping the finest scotch or a bottle of Mad Dog.

Let me ask you a simple question. In the middle of the night have you ever considered that you may have a problem with alcohol or drugs or that you really need to cut back? I know you probably quickly dismissed it as being silly, but if the thought came to your mind EVER, that is a huge red flag. I have never sat watching "Ancient Aliens" and wondered if I was E.T.! If you have ever considered the POSSIBILITY of having a problem explore it now. All those things you "haven't done" are known in recovery as "YETS."

Addiction and alcoholism always progress. They never regress. Have you ever found yourself dreading a weekend barbecue at the home of a friend who doesn't serve alcohol? You probably politely declined the invitation or you had a few in you before you got there. That's what I did. Do you find yourself getting a little uncomfortable around someone you know who doesn't drink? I bet you didn't have that same feeling eating a Big Mac next to a chubby guy! These are warning flags.

Have you ever had a few drinks before a party so you could sip only a few once you got there so people didn't notice how much you drank? Have you told your wife the "half story?" This is a term I coined because if my wife came home and smelled beer on me and asked me how many I had I would quickly reply 3 when it was really 6. If I was ripped I would say I didn't eat anything all day and probably should have eaten before I drank. For those of you who drink vodka thinking it is odorless, it is as odorless as skunk roadkill!

Believe me when I tell you that I have lost everything, gained it back and nearly lost it all again due to booze and drugs. It is just a matter of time. Addiction is patient. It will wait for years being happy that you're drunk when it really wants you dead! By the time you get to the bitter end of abuse you will probably wish you were dead. My addiction made me question my sanity, marriage, jobs, opportunities and running away from it all. No matter where I run to, I am there to greet myself and my addiction is adaptable to any climate, occupation, relationship or rationality.

Today my wife smiles at me instead of avoiding me. My kids talk to me about anything without fear of me going off. My employers get my best everyday. Today I can look at that guy in the mirror and be okay with him. I used to hate looking at that empty shell that stared back at me every morning. Today I have friends in recovery I can call when I need help with a problem. The dope man and the liquor man didn't show up at my father's funeral but 23 people in recovery did. All of the things you think you have missed or regret are there waiting for you in sobriety. Why don't you give it a shot, instead of drinking another one?

.

In life everyone has done or said things they would like to forget and can't. There are memories we try to wish and pray away. There are always a few in some dark corner of our minds just waiting for us to wrap our heads around them and drag them back into the light. Sometimes others bring it back into that light for us.

Alcohol, and/or anger makes people say, and do things they wouldn't normally even consider when calm or sober. There's the cutting remarks, pushing of hot buttons, dredged up family secrets and reminders of poor past decisions that we want permanently erased from our memory drive. There is inevitably something we have done or said while drunk, or riled up, that we wish we could take back. This is not exclusive to people like me. Everyone has an incident or remark they remember, or don't, that haunts them or embarrasses them to some degree.

For an alcoholic this haunting presents itself through remorse, shame and self-loathing that eventually it becomes overwhelming. It is simple math. Too many drinks + several years of too many drinks = loss of control, rage, verbal warfare and multiple bad decisions. This beast of burden becomes so daunting that it creates a cycle of more drinking and poor decisions. The equation is more drinks to forget, more for poor decisions made,more and more drinks, ad infinitum.

For the occasional partier or abstainer, there are probably a few of these silly, or sometimes serious, incidents that happened on a vacation or at a company party that are uncomfortable when relived. Some of them were serious enough to create a permanent scar on one, or more of the parties involved. The normal person moves on or works through it. Few seem to let it slip away into lost moments of days gone by.

Before I ever picked up a drink some things happened to me that I couldn't process as a little boy. The incidents were confusing and happened at the hands of a person I was told to trust. The mixed messages created confusing feelings, and later would fuel my isolation and anger. It twisted my sense of trust and robbed me of my innocence. This "loved" one is no longer here. I have never shared the pain with my family because I feel nothing good can come out of dredging up a ghost of painful past.

That person is not here to respond and other lives would be damaged at the news. It is my choice to hold it back because there is no redeeming or positive outcome that would result from my soul cleansing confession. It can not be changed, no matter how badly we want it to. No human can change history. I have forgiven this person. Not for his actions but for his humanity. God has given me so many chances. To hold hatred inside would rot me away slowly, while he is dead. He has stood before his maker and accounted for his stop here. His fate is up to powers I can't even perceive.

One of the most difficult, but vital parts of my recovery is facing the past, and those whom I have hurt along the way. By cleaning up the messes I have created I am relieved of some of the baggage I was burdened with daily. We drink to forget. We drink to escape. We drink to try to temporarily erase the massive pain we have created through the fog of a hangover.

Remember the Grinch cartoon where the little dog with the stick on his head is pulling that massive sled stacked four stories high with the Grinch's stolen Christmas booty? At one point they slide down a hill to a cliff, the overstuffed sleigh is teetering on the edge of disaster. The cute little dog is hanging over the edge of the cliff looking up at the huge bags that are sure to destroy him if it falls. That is what a drunk in recovery is trying to fix. Active drinkers keep adding to the burden. We try to remove the baggage, a little bit at a time, so that it doesn't destroy us. As we lighten the burden, the urge to escape is replaced by satisfaction in making things right, or at least taking responsibility for our past mistakes.

Setting the record straight with those we have wronged is greeted with acceptance and forgiveness, angry rejection or indifference by the attempted confession. The outcomes, once again, are out of our control but the issue being faced takes one more package off the sleigh of guilt to the man in recovery. There are those we can't reach, or those who are dead who make taking of responsibility for past wrongs impossible. We do the best we can with who we can, and leave the rest up to God's timing.

In the majority of reparations the people we have wronged are wives, husbands, loved ones and friends who are still in our orbit. The reparations offered to these people are "living" reparations. By leading decent, sober well intentioned lives, we show others that we are new creatures. Our actions and giving without expecting anything in return is a lifetime commitment to sobriety, and our sanity. The ultimate goal is taking ownership of our errors and living peaceably with those offended by our past wrongs.

The selfish, uncaring drunk I was for 20 years, is still inside of me, part of my permanent record. It can not be changed. There are times when people perceive that I have done them wrong. I am accused of things I did not do. The accusations are understood but create anger and resentment towards our accuser. If a dog has stolen your socks time after time, when one goes missing, the doghouse is the first place you check, based on his past. Lashing out creates more trouble. An honest appraisal of my past gives me understanding as to why they think I am the perpetrator. I was a sock stealing dog for years. I just don't steal them anymore.

Forgiveness is the key to contented life, whether drunk or sober. Anger and resentment are deadly for an addict. If dwelled upon for too long, these feelings will eventually lead us back to escape through the bottle or addiction. Forgiving myself has been the hardest reparation I have faced in recovery. The self-loathing, self-hate, fear, remorse, regret and shame can be relentless as my mind gets clearer in my sobriety. Forgiving myself is vital, or I will end up drunk or crazy.

I know GOD has forgiven me for my sins and human failings. Knowing he has forgiven me, by failing to forgive myself and others, I am questioning GOD's omnipotence. I have been pardoned for my past mistakes by the ultimate expert on forgiveness. If I question my worthiness for forgiveness, I am doubting his authority and grace. It will take time, but with help, I will make it through to the other side. I spent 28 years drinking. It may take 50 years before I am forgiven by others and myself. As long as I am open-minded, and keep GOD centered in my efforts, everything will work out fine. More specifically they will work out exactly as God has planned.

Forgive yourself and others for shortcomings and human weakness. God has forgiven us if we have sincerely asked for his mercy. Life is too short to live in the past. Remember that every day is a gift, and the days we live with hate and anger, whether inward or outward, robs us of enjoying the "present" of today. If I don't share the grace and blessings that have been freely given to me, I just might lose them all....

Addicts are Blessed and Cursed!

While I was growing up, long before I took my first drug or drink, I reacted with one of two emotions during confrontation or crisis or when I didn't get my way. The first was anger and the second was tears. During my tender years, anger and tears were the answer to every emotional situation I couldn't process. You could easily have labelled me a "cry baby" when I was a young man, up until the age of about 18. Tears spilled out easily when I was hurt or didn't know how to handle a situation correctly. When I sought sympathy or was trying to divert attention from a mistake I had committed, or was overwhelmed with a moment, I would cry my way through and out of it. I had not developed enough coping mechanisms to react in a healthy way to the challenges of every day healthy thinking.

When an adult sees a man sobbing after about the age of 14, they are instantly put into a consoling or uncomfortable state of mind. I couldn't control my emotions and the tears would just come. I now see that I suffered from depression issues from a very young age. The tears could be used as a form of manipulation and I used them often to get my demands met. If I got a bad grade on a report card, or a girlfriend wanted to dump me, my weeping and sobs could turn the situation around in an instant. My parents would comfort me with a "try harder next time" and the unhappy girlfriend would say "let's give it another try." I would escape the pain through my tearful drama and get my way.

Anger is rarely a part of my emotional skill set now, but it occasionally rears its ugly head. I have written in other chapters that my angry outbursts were based in fear, not actual anger at the situation. My father and mother both had combustible tempers and when I coupled that with the fact that I was "Irish", the angry outbursts were easily rationalized. Anger was my weapon and shield. My insecurities and low self-esteem made this emotional response necessary and convenient. I am normally witty and light hearted, but when I am angered, I have the roar of a lion and the look of a madman.

An addict wants the world to judge us by our motives and intentions, not our actions. Please re-read that sentence because there is a lot there. Even when I shouted rage filled diatribes at my children when my fear was of them being hurt or into trouble, they didn't see the motive of protection. They just saw the old man going off and most likely tuned me out. Anger is normal and we are human. It's going to happen but how we project that anger is the deal breaker. Once angry I spewed hurtful, cutting remarks that went way beyond the incident or infraction. The verbal punishment didn't fit the crime. When angered every hurtful thing I could think of seemed to line up behind my tongue just waiting to burst out on my victim.

There are times when I am angered, but the distance between that anger and my mouth has grown farther apart. I can think rationally while I am mad and stay on point. I can express my anger through constructive conversation, not just bursts of rage filled emotion. As for the tears, I have a hard time crying now and I miss it. There is a cleansing release after a good cry. I always feel relief after I have wept over the death of a loved one or seeing my kids in pain. That is the irony of my tears. They used to pop out effortlessly. Now I sometimes have to consciously try to make myself cry to relieve some of my anger and frustrations like a tea kettle whistling out steam. A viewing of one of my favorite films, "The Notebook," sits ready on my shelf when I must relieve my pain through tears and can't do it through recall alone.

The reference of addiction being a blessing and a curse is only allowable if they are coupled together. The escape into using at the moment of pain may seem like a blessing, but it is a curse in that it is temporary. Addicts seek
escape from the pain. The things we do while high creates more pain, new pain and the original excuse for getting high in the first place is still there in the morning, accompanied by a new pile of remorse, bewilderment, shame and self hate. When we have lost our ability to choose, using even when we don't want to, it is definitely a curse. The fact that I don't remember a decade is quite sad because I missed out on some beautiful life experiences. I would call that a curse.

The blessing of being an addict comes fully into the light when you realize you truly are one and you seek help. I know what it means to be a "grateful recovering addict" now. I have faced my demons, made peace with my past, and no longer fear the uncertainty of the future. Through working with other people in recovery, and the help of my God, I have discovered who I am. The question of "who am I?" is the one us addicts ask ourselves the most. I am blessed that I see that there are others who think a little off, just like me. I am blessed knowing I have a choice to not use today. When I thought my active use was a blessing I had no choice. Getting high was on my everyday agenda. Armed with the information I have learned in recovery, many of the questions and reasons for why I used have been answered and are gone. That is a blessing.

Realizing that it's the first high that gets me, not the 100th, is a blessing. If I pick up a drug today I am guaranteed one absolute truth: there will be lots more booze and drugs to follow. The fact that I can get through life with a clear mind and conscience is a blessing. Remembering that I am an addict at the start of everyday, knowing if I use drugs today and that the insanity will return quickly, is a blessing. The fact that I will always be an alcoholic and addict that has been given another chance at life is a blessing. Respecting these simple truths allow me to control the curse of addiction a day at a time.

Seven Hundred and Thirty......Todays!

Today is the 2 year anniversary of my last mind altering drug or drink. The date is an important milestone in many respects because it is a date of reference to when my life was given back to me. I take little credit for the 730 days of sobriety. I just didn't use drugs or alcohol during that time frame. The physical end to my using was just the beginning. I am sober because I surrendered to a God whom I have a relationship with and the support of other alcoholic addicts who have shown me how to live life as it comes. I also have a supportive wife and family whom I have discovered are really beautiful people.

731 days ago I was trapped in my addiction. I was enslaved to its unrelenting domination of my body and soul and I wished I was dead. Those last few days I could no longer handle my drinking and couldn't imagine life without drinking. I was trapped, a dog chasing his tail that he would never catch. I would wake up with a urine soaked bed, hatred towards myself and indescribable shame, self-loathing and cold isolation. I was having multiple anxiety attacks daily, my wife was secretly shopping for a new home and I was soon to be fired. I drank to forget these painful experiences but created even more pain in doing so.

On January 17, 2009 I had a revelation. It was quite simple. I could not, not drink through my own will power. No matter how many times I made promises to my wife and myself that "This time I mean it," I would end up drunk that very evening. On that day I surrendered. I knew I had lost the battle and was on a fast track to death. I begged to God, whom I thought was Santa Claus up until then, to help me quit drinking today. He heard me that day and I haven't been drunk or high since then.

As each new today came, I asked him to take control of my will power and spend time with people who were trying to stay sober just like me. For the longest time I thought these people didn't exist. I was "one of a kind". "My problems were different than yours," "you don't understand!" I found out that they had all said the same things when they stopped using. The excuses and denial wrapped in justification was the same in all the addicts I met. We were doing the same things and feeling the same agony as each other. We were just doing it with different people in different places.

I kept my life simple and easy to manage. I didn't obsess about the uncertainty of the future or guilt and shame of my past. I began to live one 24 hour dose of life at a time. Hours were easier to manage than weeks, months, years and decades of fear and remorse, self hate and self-destruction. I had tried for 20 plus years to figure EVERYTHING out on my own. An impossible feat for even the healthiest of minds.

As the days go by, the desire to use has miraculously left me. Today I can look in a mirror and not want to spit at the guy staring back at me. Today I can look people in the eye instead of staring at the ground or shooting my glances away, certain they could see the fear that paralyzed me in the windows to my soul. Today I have a wife who has a husband, not a baby, to raise. Today I have self respect and respect for others. Today I don't have to be right all the time or know all the answers.

Today, when my depression and anxiety build up in me, I have people to turn to to help me cope. Today I am a good husband, father, son and friend. Today people can depended on me and believe the things I say. Today I am free to choose life instead of dwelling on death. Today I can do all the things I would plan for tomorrow when I was wasted. Today I am a man, not a child. Today I am not a victim or martyr. Today I am sober because I turned to God and my fellows and sincerely reached my hand out for help. Today I reach my hand out to people who once felt like I did 731 days ago.

Today I am alive, sober, free and sane because I started living each today one at a time. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow may come. Today is all I have. I might have another shot tomorrow at a new today. Today I am grateful for what I have, and more importantly, what I haven't been given. Today I am ALIVE!

If you are trapped in addiction or depression make a plan for today only. Just don't use today. Call a friend to watch over you, email me, share your pain and accept that we can do nothing alone in this world except breathe and pray. We all need each other every today. The last 20 plus years have shown me that when I go it alone, I don't manage as well as I think. With the help of God, people and hope, I can make it through today.

I've Got A Hangover...Boy Does My Head Hurt!

Ah ha! You thought I went out and got drunk last night! No I did not. In sobriety it was just another day. It is funny when a family member or friend knows you are in recovery they feel an obligation to ask if "I mind" that they have a drink. Nobody asks me when I'm on a diet if "I mind" if they eat a donut. I assure you that if I know you have a shell fish allergy and we are at a holiday party, I will feel no guilt grabbing the chubby mollusk and dragging it through some cocktail sauce on the way to my big mouth.

It is courteous and appreciated, but if I wanted to get drunk or high, I would instantly switch into "McHighver" and find a way to get wasted. If I were on a deserted island and wanted to get drunk, I would find some coconut milk and monkey piss to ferment and make a sweet island cocktail. That is the deliberate obsession when an addict wants to use. Rationalizing the need, formulating the plan, attaining the resources, and getting away from the people who would frown upon us for using is the equation for doing the deed.

I want to stress again I am not anti-alcohol. I am not mightier than thou! I wish I could have a drink like normal folk. But for me there is no such thing as "a drink." The only thing guaranteed after the first drink is lots more of them. If I don't have the first, I don't need to worry about the 56th.

The hangover I have is that of the racing thoughts, obsessions and unrealistic expectations I put on holidays and every day for that fact. I question my gift selections, the wrapping, the traffic getting to our destination and the safe return home. I have the expressions of approval of each gift recipient acted out in my mind and my courteous, humble acknowledgement to their gratitude for receiving it.

Unrealistic expectations are a one-two punch for me with addiction issues and depression issues. It is a plain and simple fact that no one, especially me, can meet my expectations because they are unattainable. If you were to ask me what my expectations for me were, it is perfection and nothing short of that. That is why the obsessive person tends to be frustrated a lot. I could not write out specifically what goals I am trying to reach in my life. I do know if I'll never meet them. My mind sets up goals and ideals for me that are always just out of reach.

It is impossible for any of us to know how people will react. My reactions don't properly match the situation I am experiencing. That is what a racing misfiring mind offers. I can remember going to a funeral for an aunt and having zero emotion at her death. Nothing! Zip! My critical mind then questioned if I was some kind of heartless, head case because of my lack of feelings. I cared for her and I was going to miss her.

On the way home from the service, a sparrow flew into the grill of my 1973 AMC Javelin. I pulled over and extricated the lifeless body from the chrome screen and sat there weeping for 10 minutes at the demise of the tiny creature. It was just a bird, not a blood relative. I, however, processed it as a catastrophe and injustice! I felt guilt for driving my car in that place at that moment. I took out the "hit me stick" and whacked away at myself, weeping all the way for taking the breath from one of God's miraculous creations.

On a previous Christmas, when my son was about 6, he wanted a remote control dinosaur. I was a man possessed going from store to store, rabid with the focus that I would find the gift my son so wanted at any expense. I found the item after several hours and several mall trips. I felt quiet satisfaction picturing his elation as he ripped open the treasure I had found for him. On that morning my heart was racing as he reached for the magical box. Ripping the paper feverishly from the booty I presented him, he quietly uttered, "Wow, cool," and cast the dinosaur to the side and grabbed a foam football I picked up as an afterthought gift. I was devastated, angry and confounded at his reaction. I had played the scene of him leaping into my arms dozens of times before that fateful morning. My day was ruined and I moped around for the day thinking only of my feelings

Today we have Christmas with my side of the family. We are a complicated bunch, to say the least. It will be enjoyable and quietly subdued. I will "think" my way through what I say and have my feelings bruised somewhere along the way. These get togethers were a source of pain for years. It is easier now and gets less traumatic with each visit. Our history together has been challenging and we all suffer from some residual pain from the events of the past.

If I have no preconceived notion of what people say or do, there can be no frustration when the action and outcome don't align. Family is family. I can remember saying to my mother one time in anger, "You are not the mom I wanted!" It was a horrible and cutting remark, but liquid courage had welled up in me when I spat such vile words. Her reply shocked me into sobriety and I will never forget it. She replied, "Did you ever think that maybe you're not the son I wanted?" The words hit the bulls eye and started me on the road of acceptance.

Today I will keep my lofty expectations for a "Rockwell" moment out of my mind's eye. I will just go with the flow. I will enjoy my time with loved ones and accept everyone as being just the way they are supposed to be. That will guarantee me a happier day, a quieter mind and gratitude for sharing another day of life on planet earth where each day is a gift.