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.
Showing posts with label Husband. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Husband. Show all posts
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Life with a Drunk or Addict Makes You Feel Like Damaged Goods!
I have spent a lot of time sharing stories about my experiences with the destruction that I created while drinking and using. I grew up in an environment where alcohol was always in the picture so I see things from both perspectives. I have only briefly touched on my wife's feelings trying to deal with my self-destruction and the personal hell that loved ones go through living with addicted people. Yesterday I learned a lot more about her turmoil and frustrations that I was responsible for creating. Two incidents that occurred during the day gave me a direct line into what she was thinking and how she felt during my "lost moments." She has also promised to write a blog aimed directly at those who suffer along with the active user.
I spent my tender years with 3 heavy drinkers. Whether they were alcoholic is not for me to determine. That condition has to be determined by the user themselves. I do remember that I felt like I was always dealing with multiple personalities. I was never sure what "mood" the drinkers in my life would be in and had to be ready to morph into whatever character would upset them the least. I spent my time walking on egg shells and felt deep dread when I stood at the door wondering which personality would be waiting on the other side.
For some strange cosmic reason people who grow up around substance abuse, or over use, are attracted to friends and lovers who suffer from the same conditions. You would think that we would run away from people like me. Before I became an active alcoholic and addict I knew that I was drawn to troubled people. I felt as though I could save them. I felt helpless around my loved ones who "relaxed" too much. So I made it my personal goal to find someone I could "fix." I wanted to save every man, woman, child, dog and a few cats from having to deal with people like the one I became. I inevitably found myself with people who were emotionally unavailable and treated me like crap. Feeling like crap was normal to me and somewhere along the line I concluded that this is what I deserved.
I was also drawn to the seemingly healthy minded so that I could seek out their flaws and exploit them through criticism and hurtful words. The thought of someone living in a well-adjusted, healthy world was impossible for me to grasp. They had to be faking it. I took the time to find something wrong and point out where the defects were. It made me feel somehow vindicated to tear down people to my level of pain. Even if I had to manufacture it. I sought out healthy people because I was jealous of their well adjusted behavior and felt the need to show them what "real life" was like, that dysfunction was the norm and the apparently well-adjusted were hiding something.
Yesterday Squeaky and I went to a recovery meeting that focuses on relationships. The people who attend are couples that have one person with addiction issues and their significant other. There are also husbands and wives of alcoholics and addicts who were enablers or caught in the cross hairs of the wrath an addict spews at the innocent while they're under the influence. It is the bringing together of the perpetrators and the victims to discuss recovery. Those who love us addicts and alcoholics need and have their own place to heal and vent and get well. I am glad they have these places.
I was a blackout drinker and don't remember many of the things I said or did under the influence. My wife has it worse because she remembers it all. The unreachability, indifference, anguish, helplessness and insecurity of living with an active user creates severe damage to the spectators who have to sit and watch their loved one self-destruct and possibly take them down with them. My wife and some other spouses of alcoholic addicts spoke up about their feelings and accounts of life with an addict. It really opened my eyes. Later in the evening my eyes were opened even more.
I had never considered many of the daily experiences and work that goes into living with an active addict. As a proud Italian, my wife was standing by her man. While I was unraveling she was following behind me rolling up the string of damage I was creating. She was the actor, not me. She had to put her game face on when I didn't show up for family functions or concoct stories to cover for the fact that I was home in bed with yet another brutal hangover. Anger and the discomfort of wondering"What would the the neighbors think?" or "What am I gonna tell Ma this week?" were always facing her. There was the reassurance to the kids that everything would be alright. It was a grand charade that required constant attention, planning, lies, stories and cover-ups on a colossal stage.
She made the comment of feeling like "damaged goods." Her remark hit me like a right hook. While I was going crazy the dedication to our marriage was a constant burden and made her begin to feel as if she was going crazy too. She felt like something was wrong with her, realizing she found herself in a second relationship where alcohol issues were prominent. When I stopped drinking a whole new set of emotional landmines went off around her.
How could a bunch of drunks and junkies keep me sober and she couldn't? There was resentment that I spent so much time with people in recovery after leaving her feeling abandoned for so long. What had she done wrong? The answer is nothing. Addicted people need the help of those who are recovering from addiction. The spouses of the addict need to spend their time with other spouses of addicts. They are both vital to the recovery of the family. If you are an addict and you say you're not hurting anyone but yourself, you're not fooling anybody but yourself. My sickness made everyone sick. My recovery is helping every one recover.
I have recounted times when I wet the bed after drinking too much. My wife endured every painful moment of those disturbing incidents. Trapped in my addiction I was able to justify it and just fixed it by scrubbing the bed. I never realized that our bed wasn't covered with fancy pillows and comforters for a reason. There was. My wife didn't want me to ruin such beautiful things with my late night loss of bladder control.
On the anniversary of my 6th month of sobriety my wife was going to let me buy a drum set, a passion I had in high school. She was glad to have her husband back and eager for me to find new habits to replace the old ones. On the way to the drum store we passed a mattress shop. My selfish side left me at just the right moment and God steered me to the mattresses, not the drums. She picked out the bed she wanted. I could see the happiness in her eyes and relief that the old mattress could be erased from our lives forever. We got our new mattress and today it has pretty pillows and comforters. It is amazing that since I have stopped drinking my bladder control problems have disappeared. It must be the new bed.
A few weeks ago we got our fourth dog. Her name is Fiona Apple Schmutzy Connolly. She is a puppy and full of life. That is a nice way of saying she is a typical puppy and out of her mind. We have been allowing her to sleep on the bed with us and Gracie, our other Pekingese-Chin dog. We enjoy having them up there with us and it keeps "The Schmutz" out of trouble while we sleep. We had settled into bed with our canine companions and I went down stairs for something to drink.
My wife gets mad but usually not loud. As I sipped some Kool-Aid I heard some very bad words coming from upstairs and a teeth gritted command for Fiona to flee the area for her own safety and well being. I flew up the stairs and found Fiona, head down, knowing she had done something wrong and my wife bundling up the pretty bedding. Right between our two pillows was a wet spot. Schmutzy had peed the bed. I yelled at the puppy and took her outside. We do not believe in corporal punishment for our kids or animals. My tone let Fiona know she had made the pack leaders very unhappy. I am the Irish "Dog Whisperer."
At that instant I felt what my wife had felt so many times after dealing with me when I was doing the Fiona-act. She felt angry, violated, inconvenienced and pissed that her beautiful bed had been soiled. I quietly helped unmake and remake our bed and comforted my wife. I expressed to her that I now knew what it must have felt like dealing with that from a grown man. I told her I would do the laundry in the morning and relax. She put her head back down on her pillow and I stroked her hair. She really likes that. Today the sheets are clean and Fiona seems to have learned a lesson, but then again she is a puppy.
What I learned is that all the lying, manipulating, controlling and covering that I did when using, planning on using, or recovering from using is not exclusive to the drunk or addict. Our loved ones have their own hell to face and games to play. I am grateful that my wife didn't leave me. I see her strength and it makes me love her more. I know the I'm sorry's I spit out like sunflower seed shells while drunk won't cut it anymore. I show my sorrow by being a good husband, friend and father daily to the best of my ability. I won't do it perfectly but I will try my best. I drank for 20 years. I won't fix everything I broke in 2 years. It is a daily repair job, like staying sober a day at a time.
For those of you who suffer with an addict or alcoholic, thanks for all you do and endure. We don't mean to hurt you and the sickness of addiction doesn't afford us the ability to see the destruction we leave in our wake. There are lots of support groups out there. Find one for yourself and your sanity. I am not telling you to stay with or leave a person who is in the grips of addiction. That is a difficult decision each person must face. The one thing I want all spouses, loved ones and friends to know about addiction is that it's NOT YOUR FAULT WE ARE DRUNKS OR ADDICTS! Understanding that is your first step to recovering you.
I spent my tender years with 3 heavy drinkers. Whether they were alcoholic is not for me to determine. That condition has to be determined by the user themselves. I do remember that I felt like I was always dealing with multiple personalities. I was never sure what "mood" the drinkers in my life would be in and had to be ready to morph into whatever character would upset them the least. I spent my time walking on egg shells and felt deep dread when I stood at the door wondering which personality would be waiting on the other side.
For some strange cosmic reason people who grow up around substance abuse, or over use, are attracted to friends and lovers who suffer from the same conditions. You would think that we would run away from people like me. Before I became an active alcoholic and addict I knew that I was drawn to troubled people. I felt as though I could save them. I felt helpless around my loved ones who "relaxed" too much. So I made it my personal goal to find someone I could "fix." I wanted to save every man, woman, child, dog and a few cats from having to deal with people like the one I became. I inevitably found myself with people who were emotionally unavailable and treated me like crap. Feeling like crap was normal to me and somewhere along the line I concluded that this is what I deserved.
I was also drawn to the seemingly healthy minded so that I could seek out their flaws and exploit them through criticism and hurtful words. The thought of someone living in a well-adjusted, healthy world was impossible for me to grasp. They had to be faking it. I took the time to find something wrong and point out where the defects were. It made me feel somehow vindicated to tear down people to my level of pain. Even if I had to manufacture it. I sought out healthy people because I was jealous of their well adjusted behavior and felt the need to show them what "real life" was like, that dysfunction was the norm and the apparently well-adjusted were hiding something.
Yesterday Squeaky and I went to a recovery meeting that focuses on relationships. The people who attend are couples that have one person with addiction issues and their significant other. There are also husbands and wives of alcoholics and addicts who were enablers or caught in the cross hairs of the wrath an addict spews at the innocent while they're under the influence. It is the bringing together of the perpetrators and the victims to discuss recovery. Those who love us addicts and alcoholics need and have their own place to heal and vent and get well. I am glad they have these places.
I was a blackout drinker and don't remember many of the things I said or did under the influence. My wife has it worse because she remembers it all. The unreachability, indifference, anguish, helplessness and insecurity of living with an active user creates severe damage to the spectators who have to sit and watch their loved one self-destruct and possibly take them down with them. My wife and some other spouses of alcoholic addicts spoke up about their feelings and accounts of life with an addict. It really opened my eyes. Later in the evening my eyes were opened even more.
I had never considered many of the daily experiences and work that goes into living with an active addict. As a proud Italian, my wife was standing by her man. While I was unraveling she was following behind me rolling up the string of damage I was creating. She was the actor, not me. She had to put her game face on when I didn't show up for family functions or concoct stories to cover for the fact that I was home in bed with yet another brutal hangover. Anger and the discomfort of wondering"What would the the neighbors think?" or "What am I gonna tell Ma this week?" were always facing her. There was the reassurance to the kids that everything would be alright. It was a grand charade that required constant attention, planning, lies, stories and cover-ups on a colossal stage.
She made the comment of feeling like "damaged goods." Her remark hit me like a right hook. While I was going crazy the dedication to our marriage was a constant burden and made her begin to feel as if she was going crazy too. She felt like something was wrong with her, realizing she found herself in a second relationship where alcohol issues were prominent. When I stopped drinking a whole new set of emotional landmines went off around her.
How could a bunch of drunks and junkies keep me sober and she couldn't? There was resentment that I spent so much time with people in recovery after leaving her feeling abandoned for so long. What had she done wrong? The answer is nothing. Addicted people need the help of those who are recovering from addiction. The spouses of the addict need to spend their time with other spouses of addicts. They are both vital to the recovery of the family. If you are an addict and you say you're not hurting anyone but yourself, you're not fooling anybody but yourself. My sickness made everyone sick. My recovery is helping every one recover.
I have recounted times when I wet the bed after drinking too much. My wife endured every painful moment of those disturbing incidents. Trapped in my addiction I was able to justify it and just fixed it by scrubbing the bed. I never realized that our bed wasn't covered with fancy pillows and comforters for a reason. There was. My wife didn't want me to ruin such beautiful things with my late night loss of bladder control.
On the anniversary of my 6th month of sobriety my wife was going to let me buy a drum set, a passion I had in high school. She was glad to have her husband back and eager for me to find new habits to replace the old ones. On the way to the drum store we passed a mattress shop. My selfish side left me at just the right moment and God steered me to the mattresses, not the drums. She picked out the bed she wanted. I could see the happiness in her eyes and relief that the old mattress could be erased from our lives forever. We got our new mattress and today it has pretty pillows and comforters. It is amazing that since I have stopped drinking my bladder control problems have disappeared. It must be the new bed.
A few weeks ago we got our fourth dog. Her name is Fiona Apple Schmutzy Connolly. She is a puppy and full of life. That is a nice way of saying she is a typical puppy and out of her mind. We have been allowing her to sleep on the bed with us and Gracie, our other Pekingese-Chin dog. We enjoy having them up there with us and it keeps "The Schmutz" out of trouble while we sleep. We had settled into bed with our canine companions and I went down stairs for something to drink.
My wife gets mad but usually not loud. As I sipped some Kool-Aid I heard some very bad words coming from upstairs and a teeth gritted command for Fiona to flee the area for her own safety and well being. I flew up the stairs and found Fiona, head down, knowing she had done something wrong and my wife bundling up the pretty bedding. Right between our two pillows was a wet spot. Schmutzy had peed the bed. I yelled at the puppy and took her outside. We do not believe in corporal punishment for our kids or animals. My tone let Fiona know she had made the pack leaders very unhappy. I am the Irish "Dog Whisperer."
At that instant I felt what my wife had felt so many times after dealing with me when I was doing the Fiona-act. She felt angry, violated, inconvenienced and pissed that her beautiful bed had been soiled. I quietly helped unmake and remake our bed and comforted my wife. I expressed to her that I now knew what it must have felt like dealing with that from a grown man. I told her I would do the laundry in the morning and relax. She put her head back down on her pillow and I stroked her hair. She really likes that. Today the sheets are clean and Fiona seems to have learned a lesson, but then again she is a puppy.
What I learned is that all the lying, manipulating, controlling and covering that I did when using, planning on using, or recovering from using is not exclusive to the drunk or addict. Our loved ones have their own hell to face and games to play. I am grateful that my wife didn't leave me. I see her strength and it makes me love her more. I know the I'm sorry's I spit out like sunflower seed shells while drunk won't cut it anymore. I show my sorrow by being a good husband, friend and father daily to the best of my ability. I won't do it perfectly but I will try my best. I drank for 20 years. I won't fix everything I broke in 2 years. It is a daily repair job, like staying sober a day at a time.
For those of you who suffer with an addict or alcoholic, thanks for all you do and endure. We don't mean to hurt you and the sickness of addiction doesn't afford us the ability to see the destruction we leave in our wake. There are lots of support groups out there. Find one for yourself and your sanity. I am not telling you to stay with or leave a person who is in the grips of addiction. That is a difficult decision each person must face. The one thing I want all spouses, loved ones and friends to know about addiction is that it's NOT YOUR FAULT WE ARE DRUNKS OR ADDICTS! Understanding that is your first step to recovering you.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Dog Puke and Garbage Diggin... That's A Husband Job!
How I interpret the first few minutes of my day are very important. Those first few minutes used to be the determining factor on how the rest of the day went. Today I woke up at 5:30am and checked my audition and casting status. Nothing was sent or posted for work. My wife came down and promptly dropped her lighter into the garbage can. It, of course, fell to the bottom. We recycle as much as possible so the contents of our garbage consists of cigarette butts, coffee grounds, food remains and general goo.
I don't know who made the rule but there is an unwritten code for retrieving things from the garbage after your wife has dropped something into it. It's "the husband's job." She conveyed reams of information in her simple remark of "I dropped my lighter in the garbage." I speak Squeakenese and heard her loud and clear. I put on my "Husband Cape" and dug into the slop to retrieve her lost lighter. Of course, it had snaked its way down to the very bottom of the can and I felt like I was rummaging through the waste bucket at a butcher shop.
I completed the mission with dignity and my husbandry value went up a point or two. As I was washing my hands free of the gunk I had just handled, I turned to hear the familiar sound of a dog throwing up. It was Fabian. My best, non-human, friend. He had deposited two heaping piles of warm dinner leftovers all over our kitchen. From the looks of things, I think I'm feeding him too much because one pile looked like Lake Michigan. The other pile was Lake Superior, only lumpy, like old Lake Erie.
Again my wife shot me the "puke clean-up is the husband's job" look but also added the "It's your dog," rolling of the eyes, to accentuate her point. Who defined the "husband" and "wife" job description? Obviously it was the wives of our Neanderthal ancestors! I say that as an observation of fact, not with disdain. It is just a simple fact. Why are women able to bend and reshape these rules as needed? Her duties are a loose outline. Mine are orders to be executed with precision.
Let me illustrate my point. Squeaky has no problem asking me to "run the vacuum" or "do a load of laundry." That would never happen in the "Beaver's house." Ricky never scrubbed the floor while Lucy went to the "Babaloo" club. These jobs are defined in the handbook as "wife jobs." Why can the woman switch these ancient norms at will? Her telling me to "go grocery shopping" or "make dinner" rolls off her tongue like ordering a latte from Starbucks. The "wife jobs" are open for female interpretation and can be altered or eliminated at the behest of the rule maker.
"Husband jobs" are written in stone. They are carved into granite like the 10 Commandments. She will not kill a spider or take the garbage out! There will be no cleaning of dog deposits of any kind, ever! When we prepare to go somewhere she casually strolls to the passenger side of the car. It is a "husband job" to "drive Miss Daisy." I feel like Morgan Freeman confessing that he took the can of tomatoes when I eat one of "her" Lean Cuisines. It is as if I have taken the forbidden fruit and I am cast out of Eden for an hour or so after a tiny, unsatisfying meal.
She will not take her car through the car wash. She will not answer the door if a stranger knocks. She will not clean the dog hair from our stairs, nor brush them when they are shedding! I am directed to clean the dining room or dust. If she wants a late night snack to satisfy her menstrual cravings, I jump up and run to the store to satisfy her hormonal distress. Where is the justice?
Being on my fourth marriage, advice from me could be considered suspect. I do know this. When I was a younger man, I challenged her on her rule interpretations and quirky pet peeves like leaving time blinking on the microwave or not putting the mail in her "mail reading spot." In time when I would get irritated at one of her seemingly ridiculous requests or quirks, I would ask myself a simple question, "Is it really that big of a deal to do it her way?" "Do I want to ruin my evening because I think it's stupid to hit clear when I am done nuking a sandwich?" The answer is NO!
I am glad my wife depends on me and I don't have to have everything my way. What makes me right and her wrong? I am a firm believer in the old adage that,"When the Queen is happy everyone is happy. When the Queen ain't happy ain't nobody happy!" I love my wife and accept her goofy nuances and eccentricities, as she does mine. She has put up with a lot of crap with me and never once hit me with a frying pan. That's why the fourth time has been a charm for me. I'll have to say goodbye for now. Miss Daisy wants to go to Walmart. "Be there in a minute Miss Daisy...uh...I mean honey!"
I don't know who made the rule but there is an unwritten code for retrieving things from the garbage after your wife has dropped something into it. It's "the husband's job." She conveyed reams of information in her simple remark of "I dropped my lighter in the garbage." I speak Squeakenese and heard her loud and clear. I put on my "Husband Cape" and dug into the slop to retrieve her lost lighter. Of course, it had snaked its way down to the very bottom of the can and I felt like I was rummaging through the waste bucket at a butcher shop.
I completed the mission with dignity and my husbandry value went up a point or two. As I was washing my hands free of the gunk I had just handled, I turned to hear the familiar sound of a dog throwing up. It was Fabian. My best, non-human, friend. He had deposited two heaping piles of warm dinner leftovers all over our kitchen. From the looks of things, I think I'm feeding him too much because one pile looked like Lake Michigan. The other pile was Lake Superior, only lumpy, like old Lake Erie.
Again my wife shot me the "puke clean-up is the husband's job" look but also added the "It's your dog," rolling of the eyes, to accentuate her point. Who defined the "husband" and "wife" job description? Obviously it was the wives of our Neanderthal ancestors! I say that as an observation of fact, not with disdain. It is just a simple fact. Why are women able to bend and reshape these rules as needed? Her duties are a loose outline. Mine are orders to be executed with precision.
Let me illustrate my point. Squeaky has no problem asking me to "run the vacuum" or "do a load of laundry." That would never happen in the "Beaver's house." Ricky never scrubbed the floor while Lucy went to the "Babaloo" club. These jobs are defined in the handbook as "wife jobs." Why can the woman switch these ancient norms at will? Her telling me to "go grocery shopping" or "make dinner" rolls off her tongue like ordering a latte from Starbucks. The "wife jobs" are open for female interpretation and can be altered or eliminated at the behest of the rule maker.
"Husband jobs" are written in stone. They are carved into granite like the 10 Commandments. She will not kill a spider or take the garbage out! There will be no cleaning of dog deposits of any kind, ever! When we prepare to go somewhere she casually strolls to the passenger side of the car. It is a "husband job" to "drive Miss Daisy." I feel like Morgan Freeman confessing that he took the can of tomatoes when I eat one of "her" Lean Cuisines. It is as if I have taken the forbidden fruit and I am cast out of Eden for an hour or so after a tiny, unsatisfying meal.
She will not take her car through the car wash. She will not answer the door if a stranger knocks. She will not clean the dog hair from our stairs, nor brush them when they are shedding! I am directed to clean the dining room or dust. If she wants a late night snack to satisfy her menstrual cravings, I jump up and run to the store to satisfy her hormonal distress. Where is the justice?
Being on my fourth marriage, advice from me could be considered suspect. I do know this. When I was a younger man, I challenged her on her rule interpretations and quirky pet peeves like leaving time blinking on the microwave or not putting the mail in her "mail reading spot." In time when I would get irritated at one of her seemingly ridiculous requests or quirks, I would ask myself a simple question, "Is it really that big of a deal to do it her way?" "Do I want to ruin my evening because I think it's stupid to hit clear when I am done nuking a sandwich?" The answer is NO!
I am glad my wife depends on me and I don't have to have everything my way. What makes me right and her wrong? I am a firm believer in the old adage that,"When the Queen is happy everyone is happy. When the Queen ain't happy ain't nobody happy!" I love my wife and accept her goofy nuances and eccentricities, as she does mine. She has put up with a lot of crap with me and never once hit me with a frying pan. That's why the fourth time has been a charm for me. I'll have to say goodbye for now. Miss Daisy wants to go to Walmart. "Be there in a minute Miss Daisy...uh...I mean honey!"
Friday, December 31, 2010
The End Is Near!
I know I'm not the only person who is reflecting on the events of 2010 today. I am truly grateful that I remember 2010. There are many New Year's Eves in the past that are a blank slate to me. Every day was New Year's to me because I would use and drink and say to my self "I'm gonna quit tomorrow." I made resolution after resolution, night after night and was trapped in Groundhog's Day. I was trapped in tomorrows and yesterdays.
Today will be my second sober December 31st in a row. On this date in 2008 I stopped drinking for 10 days, then drank for 6 more. I have not had a drink or a drug since January 17, 2009. I had tried rehab in 1999 and had counseling after my accident in 1991. I would do okay for a while and then isolate. I am an isolating drunk. Sure, I went to bars occasionally but my favorite place to party was all by myself with a bottle and a box of tissues. Me and my self-pity are the fire and the booze is the bomb. When the three got together - kaboom!
This is the most popular time of the year for people joining recovery groups. I have yet to see someone come in happy and smiling, stating with glee, "I just won the lottery. I am dating twins and I thought I would just stop in and see how you guys were doing." Some arrive because the court ordered them. Some come because their wife or husband gave them an ultimatum. Yet others walk in FINALLY realizing that 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 and here were all these me's of all shapes and sizes ready to help.
If you were lost in a jungle would you rather have a map or a guide who has walked that same jungle a hundred times and knows how to 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 condition or disease that makes drinking an unsafe option for you once you begin.
Our society glamorizes booze and promotes it as socially glamorous. These constant bombardments of 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 can't stop gambling or the one 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 is 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 an alcoholic. For those of you who are or live with a potential alcoholic I am sorry to say that there is nothing that you can say to make us stop. We must reach a point where the agony, self-loathing, depression, anger and chaos is too much for us to handle. In short we all have to decide for ourselves when the rat race of addiction is over.
For me it was January 17, 2009. I had drank all day and had pissed the bed the night before. 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 full well I would piss again but finding 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 to whoever was up there to please deliver me from the pain. 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 wet area to assure dryness before my crew returned home from school and work. After 6 months of sobriety my wife was so proud of the new me she wanted to buy me a new drum kit. I was humbled by her amazing grace and the offer was tempting. I declined and took her to the mattress store and let her pick out the mattress of her dreams. I can say confidently and with deep gratitude to God that it has never been peed on.
If you are wondering if you are an alcoholic or addict the most honest answer to the question is what do you think. Only you know. Do you obsess that you may be an armadillo? I would think not. But if you are at a point where your ability to stop using when you want to doesn't work, or your life revolves around using, recovering from using or obsessing about using is a constant cycle, a hard look at the situation may be necessary. As a 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. Whether you are the user or living with one, you have to wake up with you everyday. You are the only person that you are guaranteed to wake up with for the rest of your life. How are you doing?
I used to resent people who could drink safely and then put it down. I don't anymore. The thought of not drinking 5 years down the road at my middle daughter's wedding was impossible to comprehend. Now I just don't drink for today and tomorrow will take care of itself. Each one of us only has today, whether an addict or an earthling.
A lot of the justification I used to continue the cycle of addiction were 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." All of these are symptoms of unhealthy thinking. Drugs and alcohol are the medicine addicts use to mask that pain.
Most of the things I wanted to be, but couldn't when I was drunk, have come to me ten fold. 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. People can depend on me. I can look at myself in the mirror and other people in the eye. All the things I planned on doing tomorrow as a drunk, I am living sober today. It isn't always easy. I have to work hard at staying sober, as hard as it was being an addict day in and day out.
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 tomorrow but I know what to do before giving into the craving. I call someone who has been through the same hell and pray for help.
Asking for help and surrendering is just the beginning. But 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 can see our addiction. We are only fooling ourselves. I was amazed to find out that there were people who had the same crazy thinking I did.
Tonight I will sit back with my wife and daughter with some tasty snacks and Dave Chappelle videos. We will laugh and I will remember the whole night. I will wake up in a dry bed and thank God for giving me another sober today. Happy New Year!
Today will be my second sober December 31st in a row. On this date in 2008 I stopped drinking for 10 days, then drank for 6 more. I have not had a drink or a drug since January 17, 2009. I had tried rehab in 1999 and had counseling after my accident in 1991. I would do okay for a while and then isolate. I am an isolating drunk. Sure, I went to bars occasionally but my favorite place to party was all by myself with a bottle and a box of tissues. Me and my self-pity are the fire and the booze is the bomb. When the three got together - kaboom!
This is the most popular time of the year for people joining recovery groups. I have yet to see someone come in happy and smiling, stating with glee, "I just won the lottery. I am dating twins and I thought I would just stop in and see how you guys were doing." Some arrive because the court ordered them. Some come because their wife or husband gave them an ultimatum. Yet others walk in FINALLY realizing that 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 and here were all these me's of all shapes and sizes ready to help.
If you were lost in a jungle would you rather have a map or a guide who has walked that same jungle a hundred times and knows how to 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 condition or disease that makes drinking an unsafe option for you once you begin.
Our society glamorizes booze and promotes it as socially glamorous. These constant bombardments of 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 can't stop gambling or the one 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 is 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 an alcoholic. For those of you who are or live with a potential alcoholic I am sorry to say that there is nothing that you can say to make us stop. We must reach a point where the agony, self-loathing, depression, anger and chaos is too much for us to handle. In short we all have to decide for ourselves when the rat race of addiction is over.
For me it was January 17, 2009. I had drank all day and had pissed the bed the night before. 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 full well I would piss again but finding 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 to whoever was up there to please deliver me from the pain. 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 wet area to assure dryness before my crew returned home from school and work. After 6 months of sobriety my wife was so proud of the new me she wanted to buy me a new drum kit. I was humbled by her amazing grace and the offer was tempting. I declined and took her to the mattress store and let her pick out the mattress of her dreams. I can say confidently and with deep gratitude to God that it has never been peed on.
If you are wondering if you are an alcoholic or addict the most honest answer to the question is what do you think. Only you know. Do you obsess that you may be an armadillo? I would think not. But if you are at a point where your ability to stop using when you want to doesn't work, or your life revolves around using, recovering from using or obsessing about using is a constant cycle, a hard look at the situation may be necessary. As a 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. Whether you are the user or living with one, you have to wake up with you everyday. You are the only person that you are guaranteed to wake up with for the rest of your life. How are you doing?
I used to resent people who could drink safely and then put it down. I don't anymore. The thought of not drinking 5 years down the road at my middle daughter's wedding was impossible to comprehend. Now I just don't drink for today and tomorrow will take care of itself. Each one of us only has today, whether an addict or an earthling.
A lot of the justification I used to continue the cycle of addiction were 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." All of these are symptoms of unhealthy thinking. Drugs and alcohol are the medicine addicts use to mask that pain.
Most of the things I wanted to be, but couldn't when I was drunk, have come to me ten fold. 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. People can depend on me. I can look at myself in the mirror and other people in the eye. All the things I planned on doing tomorrow as a drunk, I am living sober today. It isn't always easy. I have to work hard at staying sober, as hard as it was being an addict day in and day out.
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 tomorrow but I know what to do before giving into the craving. I call someone who has been through the same hell and pray for help.
Asking for help and surrendering is just the beginning. But 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 can see our addiction. We are only fooling ourselves. I was amazed to find out that there were people who had the same crazy thinking I did.
Tonight I will sit back with my wife and daughter with some tasty snacks and Dave Chappelle videos. We will laugh and I will remember the whole night. I will wake up in a dry bed and thank God for giving me another sober today. Happy New Year!
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