Eating Garbage In A Three Piece Suit

The more time I spend in sobriety, the clearer my mind is becoming. My using days created huge blank spots that are starting to fill back in. I blacked out EVERY time I drank. That's the whole idea right? I have mentioned that I don't remember the early nineteen-nineties. I have little recollection of my first year and a half at Illinois State. I do remember being arrested twice and being placed on academic probation for all three semesters.

I also had a radio show on WZND, the campus radio station. In a bit of Irony the show was called "The Happy Hour." It opened with the Ramones, "Rock-n-Roll radio. I never did a show sober. Not one. After I split for Columbia Chicago, out of necessity, and a harsh warning from the judge in Bloomington, I graduated in 1992. I don't have a single photo from my days at Columbia. I do have the sheepskin. I guess that's all that really matters.

I loved that there were 2 bars next door to the college back then. I would drink or smoke between classes and made few friends. They didn't drink like me so I had no use for them. I was so desperate to get high that during renovation of the original Michigan Avenue campus, I would sneak up to the construction area and use. I would return to class out of my mind and only half conscious.

Not long after I graduated I got a job in the gaming industry. They had opened up the first casinos in Joliet. I conned and schmoozed my way into a position in group sales. My job was to go to bars and organize bus trips for gamers. I spent more time in the bar drinking than getting groups signed up.

The job was a suit and tie gig. I felt like a big shot. I was really gripped with fear and a hundred insecurities. The chemicals just dulled the self-loathing. As my production in the department faded I knew my days were numbered. As an alcoholic I always had another job, and woman, on back up if things didn't work out when they discovered I was an addict.

One of the memories that has returned was the first time I ate garbage. The casino sent me on a tourism road trip through Michigan and Ohio with a bus company that promoted tours. There were speakers from the other area casinos and attractions. During the days we would travel to a city hotel and do presentations on why groups should visit our area. I was always able to pull off a funny presentation with a massive hangover. Every moment that I was on the job I was either recovering from, obsessing about or using alcohol. It consumed me until I consumed it.

After we would wrap up our presentations the group would meet for dinner. I was on a tight budget. Purchasing alcohol was my priority. Food was optional. As dinner hour came I would have a few drinks with the group and dismiss myself stating that I wasn't very hungry. I was. It was for alcohol. I would high tail it to the nearest liquor store and slink back to my room.

As I made my way back to my room loaded with liquid courage I noticed all the room service trays that had been placed in the hallway. The thought dawned on me that this is where I could find food! Booze first! I only wanted a small amount of eats as not to kill the buzz. My disease created enough denial in me that the thought of eating someones leftover garbage was easily overcome. I thought I was a survivor.

I would move with stealth, from floor to floor carefully lifting the aluminum food covers from the delivered plates. I didn't want to be caught with the occupants left overs in my hand! I carried napkins or the tiny garbage can liners to carry my bounty. Rolls, a piece of uneaten chicken and crackers were major scores. Taking a potato peel that had its' delicious center devoured was not below my station. I took them.

I was careful not to be seen. I was wearing a suit. When a passerby sauntered by I would merely smile and continue back to my room. Once there I would eat my leftovers and gnawed on bounty with smug pride, proud that I had saved my money for more booze. As the next day dawned I would slip back into a suit and feel invigorated that I had eaten garbage while they dined like respectable people.

This week I auditioned for 2 casino commercials. One looks pretty promising. I think those experiences are what triggered my flashbacks. I have been to casinos with Squeaky. I enjoy our time together there. Gambling addiction is one of the few I didn't fall into.

Looking back at my past is important. It helps me to remember where I was, and where I pray not to return  to. I learned a lot. It is just another chapter of the insanity that ruled my life for 28 years. It also helps jog my memory to anyone I may have wronged or harmed so I can seek them out and try to amend the situation. I learn from pain. It makes me stronger.

Today I am catching my dreams. It is only through the grace of GOD and those who helped me that I am sober today. I thanks the heavens for every day of living I am granted sober. Now I pass on my experiences to those who are fresh in recovery. That is how the circle works. I am grateful to share my story of pain to happiness to those newcomers. I see their pain and get further reinforcement that I don't wish to return to that misery.

I don't leave any regrets on the table now that I have been granted this new life. My motto is go for it. There are no such things as dreams, only unmet realities. I have to say goodbye because I have a recovery meeting now and there may be a newcomer who can relate to someone who has already fought the war. God Bless you all! Thanks for giving me a reason to live...sober. Every Day IS a Gift!

ALTERED-To Make Different Without Changing Into Something Else

ALTERED...to Make Different Without Changing into Something Else...

This week I was blessed to play a part in the movie "ALTERED". It is being shot around Chicago and Atlanta and is a Kely McClung film. He wrote, is directing and is one of the lead actors in the horror/suspense film. "Vampire Diaries" star, and McClung favorite, Robert Pralgo also stars in the film. McClung and Pralgo have that chemistry like Scorsese/ Deniro, and Soderbergh/ Damon. It is evident on the set and easy to see in their onscreen flow in "Blood Ties" and "Kerberos." Add to the mix Jessica Imoto Harney, the line producer and assistant director on the film and the trifecta bounce ideas like super balls, catch them in mid-air, slip them in their pockets then lay them on film flawlessly.

It was cool to be in those moments as both a spectator and player. The synergy between the triad is palpable. McClung sees everything. The air becomes a part of the shot and the world is in the scene. Nothing is taken for granted and overlooked. Yet nothing is contrived and set design-ish. I worked with Steven Soderbergh several days on "Contagion" and he is a gentle genius with a keen attention to detail. Kely is the same but he takes it to another level. He sees the world like a canvas and uses all of it. His senses for a scene, sound and light include taste and touch. Each moment captured is an experience, not a picture.

ALTERED is going to be a success. Period! It deals with balance, the hardest thing we have as humans to deal with. I know it's my Achilles heal. There's work and family, yes and no, this project or that, what's right and what's wrong, good or evil, get up or sleep the day away, use or stay clean. This film gets down to the true meat of the issues that trouble man and gets to the core of "what's it all about?"

As a recovering alcoholic/addict and depression sufferer who lived both functionally and in the streets homeless, hopeless and rudderless for 28 years the lines can be blurred. I did things then for survival that I now consider terribly wrong. My addiction was a loyal servant then a sadistic master. I thought God wanted me dead. I now see He had my back the whole time. I have done more for my fellow man in my few years of sobriety than my entire life as an addict. That's the way He wanted it.

A man who steals milk for kicks is a thief. A man who steals milk for his infant child is still a thief but the line becomes blurred. The balance shifts on the morality scale. A thief is a thief. I would never wish to kill a man but would do anything to protect my family. Anything. The part of balance I get now is that if I fall I get back up again. I don't have to stay down. I don't always have to fight. I can choose to stay in the center of the seesaw. Sometimes the best balance is not trying to figure it out and just being content with riding the beam.

Look for more on ALTERED at thealteredmovie.com and on Facebook search "The Altered Movie". This movie will scare you, keep you on the edge of your seat, freak you out, leave you guessing and most of all it will leave you thinking and questioning. I love flicks like that. I dig films that open up dialogue and make people engage the tough universal puzzles we try to put together down here. ALTERED pushes all the buttons. I am proud to be a part of it. Thanks Kely, Imoto, Robert, ALL the crew. You guys rock. I will never forget being a part of the ALTERED family. PEACE!

Soul Parole...I was... and I AM....

I never sat down to write a book. It's strange to me as I look at all of the separate chapters cobbled together that they have become one. Each is a glimpse into a lifetime of addiction, and only a snapshot of my sobriety. I am no guru or doctor. The only sure fire advice I can give you in recovery is don't pick-up the first and you won't have to worry about the next thousand. A recovering alcoholic/addict passed that message on to me. I hope you pass it on to someone who thinks they are "one of a kind," like I once did. I was right and wrong. I am not alone in how I look at the world. I am part of a special kind of people called alcoholics and addicts.

The book began as part of a blog I started called "Every Day is a Gift." I believe each day is. In recovery I was taught to live day to day, sometimes moment to moment because my mind is where my addictions are anchored. The pain of my past, FEAR and uncertainty of the future and the futility of trying to manage all of my baggage made living comfortably, with me, impossible. I USED to escape me, not you. In the 12 months I wrote Soul Parole the blog was read by over 13,000 people in 55 countries on 6 continents(see Appendix). It blows my mind. Addiction is universal. Suffering is a choice. I could not stay sober on my own. I share my journey. I pray that I never think I have reached my destination.

Each of the chapters were done in one sitting in one flow of consciousness. I wanted to keep my thoughts honest and unedited. By the time of publishing Editors have gone back and fixed punctuation, grammar and sentence structure. Not Content. I can see evolution in the pages. When I ask my mentor if I'm getting better he says, "your getting different." I'll settle for that. The point is that I am moving forward sober.

Some have said that my stories always have a sugary ending. That may be so. Make no mistake, sobriety is not easy. Sometimes it really stinks! My problems and pressures build and I want to run to the corner, grab a bottle and take a liquid vacation! That would leave me with a hangover, the problems, and a huge pile of some new ones.

I choose to seek solutions now. Addiction and depression is about being trapped in darkness and feeling there is no hope to see light. I don't suddenly have rainbows and fairy dust falling in my path. I FEEL now. I FACE now. These things were once inconceivable to me. Squeaky and I fight, I fail as a father, son and friend. Sobriety has shown me my character flaws. I can go back and try to right what I have wronged, where once I just fled.

I have been blessed to work on comedy stages and in films and on TV. I have come far in a short time according to the calendar. I love acting and making people laugh. My acting is a passion. Making people laugh is a gift. We all have them. Share them. I may never make it to HBO or HOLLYWOOD. That's fine. If I help a few people along their journey to sobriety then my 28 years of addiction was not in vain. There were people who held their hand out freely and showed me a new way to live. I will do the same.

Living in the moment is a gift. GOD has no beginning or end. No man can define GOD. The moment we are in RIGHT NOW has no beginning and no end. That means that right now is as close to GOD on earth as we're gonna get. Why would we take NOW for granted? Why would we take GOD for granted? I am grateful that I live for the day. Time goes faster, but I suck the marrow out of each moment....But for the grace of GOD there go I....

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!...'I'm Gonna Have a Baby....'

There are rites of passage or marks in time that are indelibly etched in our mind. Our first day of school, that stolen kiss, our wedding day are just a few of life's mile markers that are forever carved into our melons. They are like home movies that can be played on demand whenever we wish to recall them. As a date passes by the play button is pushed automatically.

Our middle daughter Sunny turned nineteen on October 13th of this year. She called and asked if we could have dinner at home instead of going out. I was happy to oblige. The kids all know that when we go out for their birthday I am absolutely going to take them to a place where the servers will come to the table and perform a cheesy dance and sing an homage to their introduction into the universe. It's just the way I roll. They expect it and secretly enjoy it. It's tradition. I did it when they were small. I will do it until I die.

I decided to make shrimp with angel hair pasta for the occasion. Sunny and her beau Crisco love it. Cooking for the family is something I truly enjoy. It is a passion I picked up from watching my grandmother as a boy. I would watch  intently as she rolled out dough for noodles or fry chicken to perfection. My mind would snap pictures of her culinary wizardry not for any future wish to cook myself. It was to capture the sights, smells and feelings of complete comfort I had sitting at her table with my head plopped contentedly on folded hands.

I coordinated the special birthday feast precisely so it would be ready when Squeaky got home from work. The pasta was to be last. Al dente is a must. Squishy or starchy pasta is a no-no. I brushed the bread with butter and sprinkled it with garlic as the kids walked in. I kissed the birthday girl and hugged Crisco her man. It was hard to fathom Sunny was nineteen. I had met her when she was just a child. Now she was a young woman. I rushed back to add bread crumbs to the shrimp, butter, garlic and chives that were simmering on the stove. Everything was coming together perfectly as Squeaky came through the door.

She hugged her baby like only a mother could sweetly protesting that it was her last teen year as I began to toss the angel hair with the shrimp. The garlic bread would take just a few minutes in the broiler. The scene was idyllic. The meal came together as planned. We said a word of thanks and an extra for the birthday girl. Then the world shifted.

'I'm going to have a baby,' spilled from Sunny's blushing glowing face. Squeaky jumped from the table and hugged Sunny and both laughed and cried. 'My baby is going to have a baby,' she exalted rocking back and forth stroking Sunny's hair. I stood behind them waiting for my turn to hug the baby with the baby. My mind was snapping pictures faster than the paparazzi at a J-Lo sighting. My head was spinning. The smell of shrimp went from friend to foe as I felt gurgling in my belly.

I was elated, scared, confused and unsure of how I felt in those first few moments. First and foremost we asked if she was sure and okay. She said yes. I shook Crisco's hand and gave him a hug and "THE LOOK" as if to say, "When's the wedding date SON?" It seemed like only moments ago that Sunny was just a kid herself. She is just a kid! I was analyzing my feelings as they were happening and the barrage was so intense I wanted to hit the floor and cover my head! INCOMING! Squeaky, ever the cool one, took it all in stride like our girl had come home with a new car. How do women do this?! I wanted to kiss, laugh, fight, hug and cry with someone....

Hello...are you okay honey?
What about school?
Where will you guys live?
She should sit down.
Is shrimp okay for her to eat?
My God I'm only 46!
LORD! Please look after her and the baby.
If this kid doesn't do the right things... I'll eat his heart!
God...grant me the serenity....
Hey Bro I love ya like a SON already....
I can't wait to take the kid to a Sox and Bear game!

I think I better sit down....

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.

Upward and Inward is the Answer!

I write all of my chapters in one sitting. They all flow from me in one stream of consciousness. I like it that way because then I don't think my way through the writing like I am writing an article for a magazine. It is a journal entry. It is as if I am talking instead of writing.

This can be a good thing because it keeps it real. It can be a bad thing because the entries are often filled with grammatical and spelling errors. They also aren't edited thoughts. I haven't considered my thoughts carefully before I put them down on paper and into the blogosphere. I don't think I will change my way of writing but a little time between entries gives me time to reflect on what I have spilled out on to the page.

In recovery it is said that my over all well being is based upon my spiritual health. That is, how connected I am with my GOD. I have to admit I haven't been as close to him as I am normally as of late. I also know that I need to look at my own behavior, attitudes and actions in relationships. It is not my job to point out the faults of others. In my last blog God was very clearly missing and my passing judgement on others was in full swing. It was driving the wrong way on a one way street.

That tells me that I need to take a step back and look at what is really going on with ME. I have just quit smoking. My wife just quit smoking. My son is becoming a man and in teen rebellion. These contributing factors are bound to have an impact on moods, emotions and reactions to situations. There is also medical conditions, book deadlines, financial pressures and a 46th birthday tomorrow that are playing on my mind. I also suffer from depression, alcoholism, addiction and all "ics" and "isms" that are faced in recovery.

By my sputtering off yesterday like Chicken little that the sky was falling I was living in the problem not in the solution. I know better than that. I have learned a new plan for living my life and dealing with it as it is dealt to me. My rant certainly was filled with some points that the family will address in time. There is nothing that is cataclysmic or doomsday like looming overhead. My knee jerk EMOTIONAL outbreak was that of a DRY drunk. I was acting like a spoiled child who wanted to take my ball and go home because the other kids weren't playing the way I wanted them to.

I am human. I have learned a lot about my areas of weakness since I have been in recovery. I can be snarky and sarcastic. I can be an egomaniac with low self esteem. I can be a pouty child. I can also be a strong leader, a supportive husband and a pretty good step or regular father and friend. I have gotten over the need to be right all the time. I am grateful for that. I am willing to listen and learn and grow and shut up. These things I have had to learn with the help of others.

Everyone wants to chuck it all in every once in a while. That is life. I sincerely hope I gave no one the idea that my intention was to RUN. That is all I did for 28 years. I take the good with the bad now. This to will pass. We are in a difficult season right now but that's just it. It's a season and seasons change every few months. I will continue to grow and sometimes I will slip back into old thinking.

It was just yesterday that I was out of my mind and saw only darkness. Today I see hope and know I was thinking with my emotions not with logic and reality. The time between these revelations is getting shorter and shorter. That is how I see that I am getting different not better. I am no better than any man. I am just a man trying to live a reasonably happy life. Some days are good sometimes not so good. As long as I keep my eye on what my part is on the team and my ear to heaven everything will work out just like it's supposed to.

Which Way is Up?

In every chapter that I post about my day to day life I try to keep it real. I have done a fairly good job of that. I have been very candid about my journey to today. I share my triumphs and tragedies, as well as the silly and the insane. In every entry I try to give a piece of myself that readers can identify with.

When addiction is active in a household roles are formed and the family adapts around the addict. The Mom or Dad step in and make decisions on their own to cover for the user. Enablers are confused when the user gets sober because they no longer have a codependent partner. Kids who had to be grown ups all of a sudden are given the chance to be kids again. The whole family dynamic is thrown into flux when sobriety is introduced. Roles need to be redefined and there are growing pains that go with that. The whole family dynamic has shifted on its' axis.

I am an alcoholic-addict in recovery. I have the emotional I.Q. of a young adult. I will be 46 in a few days. I began a relationship with a woman 13 years ago that came with three children. I instantly became a stepfather a word I loathe. I have tried to do my best with the job but quite frankly I don't really know what I'm doing.

When it comes to being a good husband and father I don't know how to do it very well. That is an honest assessment of myself. At least it is my perception. I didn't have a traditional upbringing. I grew up in a single parent home. My mother worked very hard. My father had a family of his own. My sister went her way. I went mine. My grandparents were our neighbors, so they were in the middle but from the teen years on we were pretty much on our own. That's not a knock on anyone. That's just the way it was.

My first 3 marriages were not even marriages. I was so far gone. I was barely human. Now I AM a husband and stepfather. Some days I am a champ and on others am clueless, jealous, thoughtless and selfish. I often wonder if I'm fit for either job at all. I am just learning what I am all about and I seem to make mistake after mistake in the "other people" category. I don't do it intentionally. It just happens.

I have grown in my relationship skills over the last 33 months but I still have gaping holes in my "big boy" abilities and growth. I see my wife with the kids and feel left out sometimes. I understand they are her babies. They will always be held in a different light as they should. When they disrespect me because "I'm not their Dad" it burns me up when she says nothing to them about me being her husband. She just lets it go. I feel she should demand respect for me from them. It is beginning to wear on us, her and me. She says it's me. I say it's her and them. I don't know where it's heading but I pray to God for direction and correction. It's definitely not funky town.

She has expectations. I don't meet them. I don't know how to quite honestly. I know I have a big mouth. I need to learn to keep it closed more often. It doesn't open as much as it used to.  I have said and done many stupid things as a husband and stepfather. I will again. This is new to me. Each day I learn positive and negative things about myself and the world around me. Being sober is truly like being reborn. It is like I have had amnesia and am being reintroduced to my family and friends. I really don't know how I feel or which way is up. The old me says run. Just run. The new me says go ahead you will be waiting there when you get there.

Ring Around The Rosey...

It's been said that I chase my tail in my writings, that I go around in circles. Some say that my writing is  inspiring. Yet others say they are predictable or that I share a simple every day occurrence and wrap it up with a warm and fuzzy ending. To all of my readers I want you to know that my chapters come from the bottom of my heart and are done in one sitting. That is why they are occasionally a little rough around the edges. When it comes to chasing my tail, or going around in circles, that may be true but each circuit is a new trip for me.

I have read in some of my addiction literature that active addicts don't have the capacity to form true bonds with other people. I am not stating that as a fact or expert. I do believe it. I would take it a step farther and add that this would go for any kind of "ism" or "ic." From the workaholic to living with an "ic" of any kind, the condition demands 24 hour attention from the sufferer and unfortunately often at the expense of those around us.

I grew up in a family where my dad was a definite workaholic. My mom worked as a single mother and had my step dad's issues to deal with. As a kid that left little time to squeeze me in. I don't say that with self pity. That was just the way it was. I knew they loved me. They were just wrapped up in their own thing and my troubles, worries, triumphs and ramblings were not at the top of the honey do list.

As I got older and formed relationships with friends and women, I had the capacity to engage but was riddled with insecurity and fear. There were jealousy and abandonment issues. Control and anxiety flourished. Ultimately things revolved around ME and my feelings. I could be the greatest guy in the world as long as you were reacting the way I felt you should be to my actions and needs. I always felt I deserved or didn't deserve more love or attention. Often I felt I deserved nothing so chaos or self destruction was a logical response for everyday interaction in any relationship.

I had all the scenes played out in my head for the people in my life. As long as you were in character and on cue I was thrilled. If you had different reactions than those I expected I pouted, got angry, ran away and was generally miserable. I did not have the capability to take others' feelings fully into consideration or to appreciate what they were going through in the moment. The disease of alcoholism and addiction centers in the mind. My mind was working full time trying to force the world to be what I wanted it to be. Since it only worked out like I wanted it to, occasionally I was miserable and looked for escape! I lived in a parallel universe that was not reality but very real to me. The world isn't filled with trained poodles. We are all human and that burned me up.

At family get togethers I couldn't wait to escape and get drunk the way I wanted to drink. At my kid's parties I watched the clock praying for the parents to come get their kids so I could go get high. I did not appreciate their happy faces as they tore open gifts and played pin the tail on the donkey. I rushed through every moment of my life chasing something that I couldn't catch. I was running from me, myself and I so I certainly couldn't fully relate to you or anybody else. I loved and spent time with the kids and loved ones but my fears of them getting hurt, or hurting me or the world not matching my grand plan left me one click away from completely connected.

I was sure I knew how everybody should lead their lives best and doled out advice like Dr. Phil. But I couldn't even balance a check book or separate the whites and the darks. I would half listen to all the people in my life while internally judging, convicting and passing sentence on them for all of their weaknesses. My mind would not shut off so I did what I had to do to slow it down a few notches. In that state I was neither here nor there.

Sobriety is about living life in the now. Right now. I love it. I have only been living in it for a few years now. It is like I have been Rip Van Winkle for the last 28 years and have just been awakened. I try not to take anything for granted because I used to take EVERYTHING for granted. What you may find inane I find fascinating. I was blind but now I see! Imagine not remembering a decade or more of your life. Can you do it?

If you can, imagine how your children have changed. You have gotten older. The world is different but your mind is what it was when you fell asleep. I may be going around in circles but they are new and fascinating trips each time. I am growing. I was stunted in my emotional development for years. I was a middle aged teenager. Drugs and alcohol stop you dead in your tracks upstairs. I am grateful to have a chance to "see" again. There are many who don't get the chance.

Sometimes I feel recovering addicts and alcoholics are the lucky ones and earthlings are the unlucky. In recovery I have learned to treasure life. I have learned that trusting God is way easier than worry. Worry doesn't get me anything but sick. It has also given me the chance to repair some damage I have done along the way to today. Most folks just carry the baggage. My load gets lighter by the day. I have learned to forgive because whoever I hold a grudge towards isn't at home thinking about me so why should I let them have power over me?

Mostly I have learned that every day is a gift. I can't change the past. PERIOD! I can make an honest attempt to make things right. If I want folks to forgive me I certainly have to return the favor. I also know tomorrow will take care of itself. I can make plans but I can't plan outcomes. Worry is not a God given emotion. Today is where it's at. Each day is exciting. Sometimes they're shite! All of them I feel exactly as they are meant to be.

When All That's Left is Laughing or Crying....

It seems like the words just flow sometimes, other times I can't spit out a two word sentence. When you're a wind bag like me you can't let that stuff get bottled up. It's like that old joke about the monkey, the pig and the cork. It can get very messy inside and out if I keep the cork in too long.

I used to let life get bottled up inside me until I unplugged the bottle and sought liquid or chemical relief from my worries, fears and emotions I couldn't process. Booze was like letting the air out of the tire that was me. The more I drank the less pressure I felt until I felt nothing at all, was left flat and was of no use to anyone. I've always felt that God put nerve endings on the outside of me and that left an empty spot inside. I feel everything to the nth degree. Emotion is palpable to me whether their yours or mine.

When you get sober, you are faced with feelings and situations that the normal thinking mind takes for granted in its dealings. My addicted mind is baffled and amazed sometimes at new feelings I have never bared to face. Sometimes it's euphoric like that of a baby's first taste of ice cream. At other times it seems like a portal from my past is thrown open to a memory and feeling so oppressive I am paralyzed like that same child's first experience that leaves them frozen in their booties.

I now face what I spent years so desperately trying to escape from. I am grateful that my kids came out bright, polite and out of sight. I owe most of that to my wife. When they remind me of some logical piece of advice I gave them while they were growing up, I attribute it to God. I was always great at giving advice. If I listened to any of it that I dished out, I wouldn't be writing an addiction recovery book today. That is until lately.

My eldest daughter Hemi is in from Germany. She is madly in love with her husband. They truly are best friends. The culture shock of living in another country is far beyond what she imagined it would be. If you read my earlier chapters I drove her away at age 18 when I had stopped drinking and took up the pot cure for alcoholism. Being natural, endorsed by Native Americans and being part Cherokee myself this made perfect sense at the time.

Now we are in a good spot. Then, although I was not drinking, I just switched from booze to drugs to "prove" to myself I wasn't an alcoholic. I wasn't treating the source of my addiction. That problem was my inability to deal with life logically, "on life's terms" only emotionally. I was a dry drunk by recovery terms.

We are great friends now. We are daddy and daughter in the true sense of the definition and I admire her greatly. I see a lot of me in her. The artist, the adventurer, the in your face, ready to grab life by the short hair mentality that I instilled in her as a teenager is vibrant today. When it comes to advice on her situation with marriage and what to do about the whole thing, I tell her to talk to her husband and the father...leave daddy out of it. It's not because I don't care. It's because I don't know. I am mature enough to say I don't know now.

For years I felt the need to be right or have an answer or opinion on every subject. I felt compelled to take a side in all arguments even before I had all the facts. It was a part of my insecurity with myself. I didn't want to appear dumb. I also thought I knew what was right for everybody in the universe. I am comfortable with the words, "I don't know" spilling from my lips now. I am at ease with keeping my pie hole shut also. I will always support my children and will go to the ends of the earth to help them when they sincerely call for it. I will not call the plays and control their situations. I created a lot of resentment and made some wrong calls doing that for Hemi and lost her for a while. I will not do it again.

I did tell her that marriage is tough no matter where you're at. The first year can be the worst. There is no such thing as 50-50. One person is always giving in more or taking more. Balance is the key. The question I ask myself with Squeaky is "How important is it to me to fight this battle right now?" Do I want to ruin my day or hers? Is it that I truly disagree or just wish to disagree? Is it better to endure a little discomfort to make her happy, or give both of us a lot of discomfort by going against the grain? Things work out one way or the other.

Sunny is still out there doing things I did for all those years. It kills me. The drugs of choice today for young adults are legal and can be bought at age 18 from many cigarette or cigar stores. She thinks the world is against her, that no one knows pain like hers and she is running with some troubled people. At 18 there is little I can do. She lives with her donor father. That leaves me even more powerless. He seems to be oblivious. We pray, we call, we love. She makes up stories ad infinitum. I wonder if this is the come around from my go around.

You may think me cold for letting her go right now, like we do not care. It is quite the opposite my friend. I let her go because I do. I can no longer enable her to control my life and that of the rest of this family. She needs to hit her bottom. Then I will be there like the calvary, with arms wide open. Until then I pray and trust that God is looking after her. She is an adult. It was not until I lost everything that I reached my hand out for another to help me. It was not until I begged God for mercy, instead of a favor, that I found freedom from addiction.

I am at the point where I am stuck between a giggle and a sob. There is so much going on in that three and a half inches behind my eyes and my mouth. I am glad that I have a God who hears my prayers and angels earthly and ethereal who guide me and look out for her. I am grateful to feel everything even though at times I think I might explode. That empty spot is filled with love and faith, hope and growth, laughing and crying. I lost so many years to addiction and depression. My darkest day of sobriety is better than my sunniest day drunk. When Sunny comes back I'll be there to listen.

A Beer with My Dad a Lesson for Me....

There are certain concepts that I, as a recovering addict, have to keep at the forefront of my thinking if I am to maintain my sobriety. The most important one is to remember at all times that I am just one drink or drug away from the hell I went through for nearly 28 years. When I wake up in the morning I ask God to get into my head before I do because if I get in first it can be a very long and difficult day.

It doesn't mean that I am going to drink or take a drug. It does mean that addiction is a thinking problem. More specifically it is an over thinking problem. At least for me it is. If I wake up and get my melon into overdrive before my first tinkle, the day is likely to be filled with worry, anxiety, frustration, fear, anger, resentment and all the negative emotions that drove my addiction and depression for years.

I used to escape me, not you. Although I don't use any longer I still find myself following me wherever I go. I have had to forge a new relationship with me based on the things I have learned in recovery. My life is for the most part exactly what I want it to be. I am grateful to be alive and thriving in the acting and comedy world, something that was impossible while using. More importantly, I am a trusted friend, husband, father and son. I also try to help others find their way to the gift of sobriety that I have been given so freely.

That being said, I love days when I am just about to crawl under my Scooby Doo sheets and I realize that I went the whole day NOT realizing I was an addict, alcoholic or depression sufferer. In other words, I made it through the day like an earthling! How cool is that?! It doesn't mean that I take my disease for granted. It means I am getting stronger in my sobriety. I spent 28 years using. It will take the rest of my life untwisting the mess inside my head and those I tried to rewire along the way.

Yesterday was the paradox of that feeling. If you watched the video I posted above, Squeaky and I went to Abraham Lincoln National Cemetery yesterday to "have a beer with my Dad." I stopped at the liquor store and was thrilled that the one I visited allowed for the purchase of just one. It has been two and a half years since I have purchased alcohol and it really had no effect on me. I was on a mission to get my dad a beer. My family knows I am McGyver-like in my focus when there is a mission at hand.

The funny side note to that was I stopped at the local corner store to try to get a can earlier in the morning, having forgotten the Sunday selling restrictions, and the store owner looked at me cockeyed when I asked what time they were open for liquor sales. I quickly said it was for my Dad. I am surprised they stayed in business after I quit the stuff. I know their profits went way down for sure!

The memorial was beautiful. It stopped raining long enough for us to toast Pops. The birds were singing and he has a great view of the forest and a pavilion where they honor the latest Vet to be interred there. In an ironic twist he is right next to a soldier named Jones, my wife's maiden name. That soldier was only 46 years old.

As I spilled the frothy beer into the gravel, the earth seemed to gulp it down with vigor. The soldiers all had a sip along with my dad. As I said my goodbyes I could smell the beer on my hands and it brought memories flooding into my mind; some good, many bad. The good ones were of the many laughs I had with my dad over a few cold ones at many a Bear game and when I worked for him. The bad was for the months, and at one time years, I missed in my alcoholic fog that we didn't speak because he couldn't bare to see me self-destruct.

There was no sadness in the time with him. I spent many hours with him at the end of his life making up for those lost years. I am at peace with my past mainly because I can not change it. I have learned from it and know what not to do so I don't have to live it again. I always like to point out in my blog that I am not anti-alcohol or anti-anything. It's just not for me because I can't stop once I get rolling. One is too many and a thousand isn't enough.

Squeaky chuckled as I wiped my hands in the grass to get the smell off my hands. It was like I was trying to wipe bird poop off my hands. My few moments of discomfort were worth the symbolic enjoyment I am sure my dad got out of that beer. He was probably laughing at me with his unit in heaven while I squished my nose at my skunky, beer soaked hands.

I know how he must have felt during those lost years when he didn't know where I was but knew I was hurting and slowly destroying myself. My middle daughter hasn't been around in a week. She dropped our son off today and didn't even stop in to say hi. She had a hangover. She is lost, but she's an adult. There is little I can do. I can be grateful for my sobriety, pray and have the confidence and faith that I will be of clear mind to help her when she's ready for it. My dad was there when I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'll be there for her too.

"I'm Sorry,"..."Thank You,"..PC Reactions or Heartfelt Epiphany!

Before I dive into the 700 mile an hour salt flat speed testing site, known as the inside of my mind, I want to say a few HEARTFELT "I'm Sorries." The first goes to my wife Kris, the second to my good friend LT in AZ! I'm sorry and thank you  for being the focus of today's trip into Tommy's recovery and depression fun house. Please put your seat belt on. Do not stand up while the ride is moving and you must be taller than Frodo to take the trip.

An addict, a depression sufferer and a human will say "I'm sorry" and/or "I thank you" for many reasons daily. I will speak for myself. I hope you can relate. When I was drinking "I'm sorry" and "I promise" were the two phrases that came out of my mouth most. That is after I had poured booze and whatever down my throat and hurt feelings and did rotten things. I used "I'm sorry" as a way to get out of things, to avoid shouting out how I really wasn't sorry, or because "it's the right thing to say" after a disagreement or when I was wrong. Sometimes, it was to avoid my own feelings.

"Thank you" and "please" are two more beautifully cobbled simple phrases with a lot of power packed into a syllable or two. I used these to appear grateful, look good, show temporary superficial happiness and put on a good show. Of course, there were occasional times I meant all of these phrases but they have now become so over used that they are losing their power. I/maybe we, just say them because we are supposed to. I can honestly say that I have had a girl spill my coffee all over me at the gas station at checkout and thanked her for it! I have been conditioned into some of these responses. They have lost their heartfelt, soul based meaning that they are intended to partner with. I have also said "THANK YOU!" in an almost demonic tone to some rude register lady to show her how civilized I am. HUH? Earth to Tom!

There are so many of these phrases in the English language. American style has the best, which we have beaten down into meaning less innocuous, droning reactions instead of feelings. When my kids come home from school I ask them how their day was and they normally respond with, "it was great" or "it was cool" or "it was fine". In all honesty I am relieved because I think to myself that I am glad that there won't be a crisis to settle that evening. That should be the time I jump up and ask them what made it "great" or "cool". I don't do that nearly enough! Why? Because I accept the simple word of contentedness as affirmation that all is well. When they come home and say their day was "horrible," rotten," etc.,. I won't lie. In my head I think, "oh no, here we go..." Shame on me!

My depression medication had run its course and was no longer working at an effective therapeutic level for me. I switched to a different medication. When you switch medications that are manipulating the wiring in your melon there is a transition. The switch is accompanied with yet more depression, mood swings, sleep problems and a list of symptoms unique to the med and the patient. Depression, like alcoholism and addiction is never cured, it is merely arrested, controlled and managed.

My new meds are evening out now and I feel great. I feel motivated again and have put my NIN CD's back and gotten my Ramone's back out. I have had some moody outbursts with a few friends, and especially my wife, over the last few weeks. I know it's the meds. They know it's the meds. As always I must remember the world judges me by what comes out of my mouth, not what goes into it.

I learn more and more about me each day and it's getting much easier to live with me and within me. I find the more sober I get the more alcoholic I realize I really am. I have come to accept and surrender to the fact that I have some conditions that are real and forever. It ain't so bad. I am growing and happy for the most part. I make mistakes and can admit them. It sure is nice not having to be right all the time. As for those words we use like hello's and goodbyes.

I am truly sorry to Squeaky and my friends for shooting off my mouth, new meds or not. The best solution for big mouthitis is keeping it closed. As for thank you's. I thank you for taking time out of your day to read my ramblings. I hope it helps you. I know it helps me. I know I am getting somewhere down the road of life because my prayer life is less frantic and more grateful. I don't seek comfort in things I can wear, drive or eat, drink or show off. I have a prayer list. I have friends I pray for daily. When I hit my knees at the end of the day I thank God for giving me another day of life, even if it was a rotten one by human standards. You see, it wasn't too long ago those same prayers were begging him to not let me wake up the next day. Now when I do wake up, I jump up and say "What are we doing today!"

That is after I say "Dear Lord, please get inside my head before I do." Have a Day!

COMING NEXT WEEK!   PROCRASTINATION

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.

I Know A Guy Who Is losing A Loved One To Addiction...That Guy Is Me!

The pain and despair that comes with addiction is excruciating. Every day that you wake up you feel like hell and you know you are going to do the same thing that day. It's like there's a guy with a sledge hammer standing behind a door and even though you know he's there, you choose to open the door any way. The power of addiction is merciless, deceitful and doesn't care who you are. It just wants you to submit to it's every command - and you do.

Being through addiction, part of my recovery is trying to help others to recover and make it to the other side. As a recovering addict I have done the lying, cheating, stealing and manipulation that makes addiction possible. Being an alcoholic or addict is a 24 hour job. You are either trying to get high, getting high or suffering from the last high. The paradox of addiction is that it convinces you that you are not an addict. It also twists your mind into thinking that your family and the world are against you. It reassures you that giving in and getting high is your only path to peace.

There is a person very dear to me who I see slipping into the jaws of addiction. Knowing the signs and games an addict plays is both a blessing and a curse. It's like you know the fastball is coming and you still strike out. The person I am speaking of is a beautiful girl. She is bright and intelligent and only 18 years old. She has her future mapped out and is only a few months away from graduating high school. But now, in the final stretch, she has found a new future with a dead end in the form of chemical dependency.

When I used "checking out" of myself was required. I had no choice. For over 20 years I continuously opened the door and let the guy with the sledgehammer beat my brains in. I lost everything from my self respect to my family. Those losses just added fuel to the fire and more power to the addiction's constant reminder that it was my only friend. It wasn't until I truly thought I was losing my mind and going to die that I got help. Friends, family, strangers and God Almighty can't help an addict until they get tired of the guy with the sledgehammer beating them to death. I was thrown life preserver after life preserver and my denial let me drown for years.

It is so sad for me to look at her and see the patterns I am so familiar with. There have been threats, sob stories, broken promises and I'm sorries. The patterns are all the same. Only the faces and places change. I see the pain in her eyes and the self hate she has for herself. The self hate is the ultimate master of destruction and obsession for an addict. As life gets more chaotic, the greater the drive is to escape. It is hell on earth.

As a loved one you can make threats, try tough love, beg, spoil and play every game you can think of to get an addict to see reality just for that one second. Sometimes it works. Other times it doesn't. Alcoholism and addiction are the only diseases that tell you you're not sick, that you can quit at anytime. An addict thinks they know all the answers and everyone else is full of shite! Prayers are important. Setting a good example is right thinking. Loving the addict who is suffering is vital.

The reality check is that all of the solutions, combinations of them, love, anger, compassion and punishment, may or may not work. It's a crap shoot. Some times you roll a 7. Sometimes you roll box cars. There is no perfect solution. All of us suffer from terminal uniqueness. You can do your best and keep the faith. That is all.

I am going to see this lovely girl tomorrow night. I can share with her my love, experience, strength and hope. I can pray for her. I can tell her the stories of living on the street or having cockroaches crawling all over my body. Maybe something will stick. Maybe it won't. We can control our actions but we have no control over the outcomes. When she walks out the door she will be left with my love and words of support and the knowledge that I will always be there for her. Once she hits the streets it's just her and her addiction. Until the scale tilts from misery to recovery I must accept I can only do so much.
When she walks out that door I will say "Sunny, I love you and I'm here for you."

Squeaky Speaks! Life with an Alcoholic....a Wife's Point of View!

Hey gang long time no blog. Well, this is it. My wife speaks! These are her words. I put her through hell and back. Let her tell you about it.

Hi, I'm Kris Connolly, also known as Squeaky. I’m not the writer in the family, that would be my husband and our oldest daughter. They’re writers.  I’m just a mom, a wife and a friend who’s been through some life.

I grew up with 2 parents (still married to this day!), 1 sister & 3 brothers. I guess you could say we had a kind of “Cleaver” life.  I grew up in Berwyn when everyone knew who everyone was and where your parents knew what you did before you even got home to deny it. Life was simple and easy. My dad has his own company so we were pretty spoiled. Mom didn’t like for us to stay out late so we were pretty naive. That was until we broke loose and discovered life; drinking, smoking & breaking curfew. I drank in high school, doesn’t everybody?  It’s a phase, right?  We didn’t have any alcoholics in the family.

Of course we pretty much had our share of strange relatives, as does every other family. We were able to drink wine on holidays, it was no big deal. We had a “friend” of the family who got blasted at every family function. He was a sloppy drunk and quite embarrassing. I later heard he had a drinking problem and started a recovery process. That was the first time I’d ever heard of people that could not stop drinking. Personally, drinking made me tired and slow. I had no use for it - and then there was prom night 1984. I had a few too many, got a little crazy with my boyfriend and 9 months later there was beautiful baby girl. Talk about growing up fast! 

 As a single teenage mother I didn’t have my "crazy" time until about 21. I had a good job working for Dad’s company. Every Friday night we would all go out to the local bar after work and there I met HIM, the “bad boy”. He was married, good looking, tattooed, rude and drunk. There was my chance to not be “Mom” and get crazy. I got loaded that night and did some things out of character. A year later I ended up marrying him. 

He had a drinking problem and I knew it from the start. I was just having fun until he told me he was getting divorced, because of me. Oh, great! I knew what he was, I heard about these “types” that drink all the time. One of my co-workers even went so far as to say he was an alcoholic. I was sure he drank because he was in a "bad marriage". Ok, I’ll marry him and he’ll be happy and not drink. I soon learned that anytime was “beer:30” in his world and it was always 5 o’clock somewhere. The drinking was insane and soon so was I.

On to plan B. Let’s have a baby! That will certainly make him stop! Shortly thereafter a beautiful baby girl was born, then a baby boy. I found myself alone, now raising 3 kids. He went out every night after work, came home so drunk he could barely crawl up the stairs. On to plan C. Let’s move and buy a house. Once he has an established home and family he will surely stop drinking. Well, that didn’t work either. His drinking escalated to the point of no return. We had knock down, full on fights. He could certainly throw a punch but my sober stamina and crazy Italian blood wouldn’t allow it. I knew he would eventually wear out and I would win. I only looked like I lost according to the police and E.R. doctors. Needless to say the marriage was over. I gave him one last chance, the booze or your family, and his exact quote to me was “You don’t want to hear my answer."

Fast forward about 5 years. I was working for a small export company that rented space from my sister's company. It was great to be in the same building with my family. I remember one day I was feeling very depressed and lonely.  I walked out into the main office and saw this strange fellow standing there.  He was dressed kind of messy and looked dirty. I figured he was one of the dock guys. He was wearing a stocking cap pulled down and the one thing I remember most were his awful looking sneakers! For some reason I found myself staring at him as he stood talking to someone. I saw a light around him, I guess you would call that his aura. I don’t even think he noticed me. I was frozen. I’ve never had anything like that ever happen to me. I remember asking his boss who he was. The boss told me “That’s Tom, the new guy.  Stay away from him, he’s trouble. He’s a recovering alcoholic." A WHAT? Recovering alcoholic? I’ve never heard of such a thing. I had no idea those even existed. That means they stopped drinking. How interesting.

I had to know this man. I would occasionally run into him outside for smoke breaks. We would sit on the stairs and talk about everything. I couldn’t let him know a part of me was fascinated with his “recovery." After all he didn’t know that I knew. I left to work for another company but we kept in touch. I remember the day he showed up at my new office and showed me his 6 month coin. He then shared his story with me about his past, his life and his future. I found myself falling in love with this man deep in my heart. The more I thought about it, the more I knew that this was God's way of putting him in my life. 

 We started having lunch dates, then after-work dates, then he moved in with us. At the time he was living at the YMCA. I couldn’t bear the thought and had to "save" him. I gave him an instant family and home. After two years we were married and sure to be the new “Cleavers”.

Over time I would notice him getting short tempered. I chalked it up to his Irish blood and went on with life. Eventually he met some of my co-workers. They were a younger bunch that liked to party and smoke the maryjane - everyday. Well, Tom thought that would help calm him down. I was all for it.  After all, he wasn’t drinking, right?  

I saw a new, calm man and was very happy with the results. I had no problem getting it for him since I had the hook ups. Then he started doing it every day. He was putting me in very uncomfortable situations. If my connections were dry, he would get very upset with me. I felt like I failed him. There were times we would drive 40 miles to a friends house to "score." Looking back, what was I thinking? I guess I’m what you call a "people pleaser."  I wanted my man to be happy, while making myself miserable. I found him taking other drugs. In my mind that was okay, he wasn’t drinking and booze was the monster I was most afraid of.

Eventually we had a house built and were the perfect couple living the American dream. I will never forget the day I came home from work and we were running out for a few grocery items. We were driving in the car and I thought I smelled booze. That’s one of those nasty things you don’t forget. I tried to make conversation with him but he would only nod and face the window when speaking to me. I must be crazy, there’s no way he would drink! He was a recovering alcoholic. They can’t drink, right? I dismissed it and didn’t say a word to him. The following day I came home from work and there was a six pack of beer on the table. I couldn’t understand. He said it wasn’t a problem to drink a few, that he would stop when he was done. I thought it was no big deal. Well, six turned into twelve, twelve turned into twenty-four. When that stopped working the hard liquor was next. When that wasn’t enough the pills and who knows what else was required. I found myself right back in the nightmare I was in from the beginning.

What the heck is wrong with me that I’m driving these men to drink? Maybe I work too much. Maybe my kids are driving him crazy. Soon I found myself watching him drink himself into oblivion every night. I would get up to check on him and usually find him laying on the floor somewhere (bathroom, dining room, kitchen). I would always make sure he was still breathing, mumble a few choice words under my breath and return to bed, angry. Very angry. On the few nights he would make it up to bed, I usually didn’t know until  morning when I would wake up soaking wet in his piss. Yeah, I’d say that’s a bad start to anyone's day.

I lived like that for a long time. Every night he was the meanest person on earth ridiculing me and the kids. He would throw my innermost secrets in my face. He would remind me on a daily basis that I was a complete failure as a wife and mother. I would wake up every morning very hurt. I started blaming myself until I started blaming him. Then it was all out warfare. I tried escaping and moving back to Mom’s. That was the day he tried to kill himself. I remember sitting in my mother's kitchen and talking to him on the phone thinking he’ll never go through with it. I was trying to be compassionate but all of my feelings were turning black. I was pissed that he would mess up the house. I was even more pissed that he didn’t have any life insurance, leaving me with nothing. In the back of my mind I thought that it would probably be the best thing for both of us.

Well, he called me the next morning. It wasn’t successful as I had planned.  He promised me the drinking was over. You see, if I had a dime for every time he said that to me, I wouldn’t have needed to think about life insurance because I would have been a millionaire. I ended up going back to him. It was like that move Groundhog Day where nothing changed. I was determined to find a reason to end this marriage. So I did what every good wife does and checked the Internet history. Bingo! I got you this time! Porn, really? Singles and dating sites, are you kidding me? Sending nasty messages to other women when you won’t even look at the one you’re sleeping next to? O.K, I’m done now! I can handle everything but cheating. He thought it was harmless. I saw the Internet trash as cheating. I was mentally exhausted and empty. I had to get out of there or go crazy with him. 

I started house hunting. I’m not sure how my husband found out (perhaps the Internet history) but he confronted me on it. We actually sat down and talked, like "big people" about what was going on. I told him I would no longer live like this and something to the effect that he was pathetic! Seems that out of all the things I had called him “pathetic” struck a nerve.

He started going back to recovery meetings and introduced me to some other spouses of alcoholics. Not only were the wives there, but there was a man too. I didn’t get it. Aren’t alcoholics only men? I was thrown into a world of people that had actually lived like me and thought like me. You mean this wasn’t a big secret we just lived with? I made a comment in a meeting about growing up in an Italian family. We’re born, baptized and immediately fitted with a set of blinders. We don’t talk about what goes on in our family with other people. After all, what will the neighbors think?

    

I can honestly tell you that this meeting was one of the best things that ever happened to me. These people loved their spouses so much that they were going to get “treated” for a problem that wasn’t even theirs? I don’t have a drinking problem. I don’t belong here and I certainly can’t talk about what goes on in my house. It only took a few turns around the table before I lost it.  They really did live and think like me. I’m not weak because I love this man and want him back. I’m human and I feel and I love. I can be weak. It’s okay to cry and share with other people. I’m not the only one in this situation. My problem was, I just didn’t know. I learned that alcoholism is a disease that cannot just be turned off because I want it to. I learned that my husband has to “want” to stop. It’s all up to him, NOT ME. 

 I learned that I need to pray. I need to thank God everyday for putting our family back together, for giving us strength to get through it together and for giving my husband the desire to quit drinking. I pray that we will never have to go through the misery and pain that alcohol has caused in our lives. I pray that my children saw and learned what addiction does to a family. I sometimes wonder why we had to go through that horrible chapter in our lives but then I would be questioning God. Our pastor once said "God never gives us more than we can handle."  Well, HE must think very highly of us. After all, God is the one that chose for me to see Tom's aura that day. I suppose we did it just the way HE planned. I hope HE’s pleased.

Today I look at my husband as a man. He's a man that I’m proud of and that I love being married to. I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t want to give the impression that every day is roses and daisies but at least we can get through them together. To quote my husband “Every day is a gift." Thanks for letting me share.

Love

Squeaky

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?

When I Think About My Insomnia... I Don't Sleep A Wink!

It's 2:58am in Plainfield. I have been up since 2am. I was laying in bed thinking about getting up since 1:15am. I went to bed at 11:15pm. What I'm trying to say is that I suffer from insomnia. When I think about it, I can't sleep a wink. I've suffered from it for as long as I can remember. It has been at least 12 years, but more likely longer than that. To top it off my body clock wakes me up at 3:46am everyday. Even if I go to bed at midnight! I don't need an alarm clock, it's automatic!

My wife gets up at 4am for work Monday through Friday. I started getting up with her years ago so we could have some time in the morning to be alone before the hustle and bustle of life took us in our separate directions. On the weekends she sleeps in until about 8am. Me? Heck no! I am still up at 3:46am seven days a week. What I wouldn't do to be able to sleep until 8am. I might as well be dreaming about closing for the White Sox because that's just not the way my body works.

As a kid the only times I had trouble sleeping was either on Christmas Eve or the night before I was going to pitch in a baseball game. It wasn't too long ago that I would drink 20 or so beers and I would still wake up at 3:46am. That's enough alcohol to knock out a sperm whale but not me. It didn't matter how much I took or drank, I would still be up before the crack of dawn. Maybe I'll get a job as a paperboy. That seems to me to be the only job where a 3:46am wake up routine would be useful.

I've heard a lot of alcoholics and addicts have sleeping problems. Using chemicals was our knock out formula. When that is taken away there's no more knock out. During the day I take a couple of "power naps" for about 30 minutes each day to make it through the daylight hours. My dad taught me the magic of the power nap when I was about 12. I love them. The fact that I lived in my car for a couple years helped also. I can take a power nap anywhere, anytime.

It's almost 3:30am so I have 16 minutes before my body would be waking me on any other day so I might as well roll with it now. 3 of my 4 dogs get up with me in the middle of the night. My 12 year old Yellow Lab, "Cooter," doesn't get up. She could sleep through a home invasion. Whoever started using the word "dog" as an insult must have had a bad one because I would change places with any of my dogs in a heartbeat. Sleep, play, sleep, eat, sleep, go out, clean your naughty bits, sleep...all sounds like heaven to me.

When I was drinking I would be spending the time I am using now to clean up pee from my bed or come to in the middle of our family room. Sometimes I would even wake up in the bathroom naked, puke all over the place and not knowing how I ended up there. I am so thankful those days are gone. They will stay gone if I stay connected to God, people like me and am honest with myself about what and who I am. I better start wrapping this thing up, my body clock is going to wake me in 9 minutes.

Now I spend this time corresponding with people who connect with me concerning addiction or depression issues. I prayed that when I started this blog I would be able to connect with people like me and share their pain and give them some hope that they can make it through anything, a day or minute at a time. In the last 48 hours I have had 2 people approach me about recovery and dealing with depression. I am grateful that God has allowed me to be a channel for hope and faith in a new way of life to help them find their way.

With each new day, when someone reaches out to me and tells me I am helping them or others with their own struggles, it makes the insomnia okay. I live my life free of guilt, shame and remorse now. In the two months I have been writing, God has spoken through me to give an encouraging word or just help someone through a crazy day. Sometimes it stresses me out and I feel overwhelmed. It is nothing like the continuous assault on my sanity that alcohol created.

We are all messengers of God. I mean the Great Spirit, not a God of a particular color or shape. My human mind can't quantify the concept of God. I do know it is centered in love. We all can spread a little love in this world. So as you get up today and are sipping your morning coffee, or eating your dinner on the other side of the world, try an experiment for me. Say or do something centered in love for everyone you meet or see. To the people we live with greet them with a pleasant "Good Morning!" or compliment them on something.

I know when I lend a hand or a shoulder to cry on, when I just listen or be there for someone I feel better knowing I am making them feel better. It doesn't take a lot of effort or time. The positive energy or love of God is contagious. It is not denominational or exclusive. We all have the ability to change a dark moment into a sunny one for each other every day. When people reach out to me and say I have said or done something to help them, or when they say nothing at all and I see hope growing in their eyes it makes my past worth it.

 If I do not share the gifts and blessings that god has chosen to give me through grace, I just might lose it all. Try my experiment. I guarantee it will make you feel better about you knowing you have made someone feel better about themselves. Give it a shot. You won't be sorry. It's 4:15am. I better get my day started. Hey! A smile goes a long way. Let the experiment begin!