Before I got to Texas this time, I could count on one hand the number of people I considered a real friend and I probably wouldn't need all the fingers on that hand. It's not because of other people though. It was because I had become so closed off there was no way anyone could truly get to know me. Hell, I didn't even know myself.
When I first got here in mid-June, I didn't anticipate that changing. I went to a few meetings but by and large I continued my habit of staying closed off and never letting anyone see my soft underbelly. I met up with a couple of the dear friends I did have and continued that relationship but that was about it. Even that was fraught with addiction issues since I stole drugs from them while I was visiting with them. The first month and then some I was here every move I made was calculated to score drugs. I visited people I thought would have them. If I didn't think you had any then I wasn't interested in seeing you. That all changed on a Sunday in July.
I didn't use drugs that day not because I didn't want to but because I didn't have any. I didn't have any way of getting any and I didn't know of anyone that had some. The same thing happened the next day. I didn't use because I couldn't find any. The next day was a Tuesday and I met up with my sponsor for the first time. We began my step work that night sitting in the bar area of a restaurant. That became the first day I didn't do drugs because I didn't want to. The next day I was tempted but I didn't do it. Instead I texted her and told on myself. Thus began the journey that I'm now set upon.
During the last 52 days, I've met some amazing people here! I've connected with people here that I hopefully will be friends with for a long time to come. It's amazing what actually being honest with people and letting them SEE you will do. I go to a meeting every day and in each one I've met at least one person, if not several, that I connect with on a real and personal level. It's an amazing feeling to walk into a room and have people call out my name and seem genuinely glad to see me. That's not been the case for me for a very long time.
There have, however, been a few women with which I've bonded quite tightly. One of them, J, is an amazing woman who has 18 months sober and has been such an inspiration to me. She is at one of the meetings I go to about three times a week so I would see her often. One day she shared something personal with me before the meeting started. After that we began texting each other pretty much every day. If I don't have a text message from her when I wake up I send one to her. We've had some really meaningful discussions about issues that effect us both. I honestly am just in awe that she thinks so highly of me. I'm so used to being the one to pursue a friendship, it's weird for me to be in such a reciprocal relationship. She cares for and loves me as much as I do her. I'm going to miss seeing her so often when I go back to NZ but I know we'll stay in touch. I can't wait to see her grow and blossom as she gets older in sobriety and sharing my journey with her as well.
The second person I've especially bonded with is my sponsor. She's an awesome person who was exactly the type of sponsor I needed. The first time I heard her share I knew we'd get along. Then we all went out to dinner and she was the instigator of the group so I knew we'd do well together. She was also the first person who was totally blunt with me. She asked me if I wanted to die because that's the road I was headed down. When I asked her to be my summer sponsor she didn't hesitate. She said yes right away. For my first step, she had me write out five ways my life was unmanageable. I honestly thought my problem was drugs. I knew I couldn't drink but I thought all my addict behavior and all my issues were centered around drugs. Then I wrote out five ways my life was out of control and half them involved alcohol. We did the first three steps that first night. I told her I had a limited amount of time and I wanted to get as far as possible into the steps before I went home. The last time I got into recovery I didn't do any step work and I relapsed. It took seven years but it was inevitable. This time I wasn't fucking around. I knew I needed this to save my life so I hit it hard. I did my fourth and fifth steps with her less than two weeks later. I was convinced she would judge me when she found out all the shit I did but she didn't. We discovered why our HPs had put us together because we had a lot of the same issues. We'd had a lot of the same experiences, not exactly the same but similar enough in essence. She really got me and that was honestly a first for me. To have someone completely understand where I came from and the weird way my brain works. She's had me calling her every day. I missed a few days calling but I always at least texted to let her know all was well. She didn't always answer the phone but I know that if I needed her she would have called me right back. Last week when we got together and she told me someone had approached her about my sobriety it made me really uncomfortable. I know they meant well but it still didn't feel good knowing someone in recovery went behind my back. I expect it in the rest of my life. I expect that my parents and my wife and my normie friends will wonder. Especially since I've become "too much" again. I know people will wonder if I'm high. I just didn't expect my recovery friends to wonder. I thought they would know me better than that. It's not like I've been a wilting flower in ANY meeting I'm in. I'm loud and excitable and frenetic every time I share. Have been almost from the very start. So when she said that someone had talked to her about me my first feeling was that feeling I would get when I was worried I was about to get into trouble. Those feelings of trepidation and dread. Like she was about to get mad at me I guess. It was weird. Anyway, our last visit just felt off to me so the last few days I've been wondering if she's distancing herself from me because I'm leaving or if she's judging me now or some other stupid shit my brain makes up. I didn't talk to her on Monday but I left a message. On Tuesday, she was supposed to come to the meeting but had to deal with a flat tire so I didn't talk to her that day. Wednesday I was feeling all kinds of shit and pouting so I didn't want to call her. I sent her a text but it was pretty bland. So today she calls me. She scolds me a bit for not calling her, letting me know that it's not really cool and I gotta keep up with her. Letting me know that she cares basically! That she's noticed I've not called and she's worried. I felt silly for doubting. She was giving me a hard time as she does and then just before we hung up she asked if I knew she was just joking around with me. Like it was important to her that I know that's how she expresses love and that she really cares. It gave me the warm fuzzies. She's one of those people who doesn't love lightly or even care lightly. She takes a bit to warm up but once you're in, you're in. I'm so happy I listened to my gut and chose her. She's been perfect for me and I only hope I find someone half as awesome as she is back in NZ.
The third dear friend I've made is the one who prompted this blog post. I just found out tonight that the time we'll spend together tomorrow will be the last face to face time we'll have until I come back to the US or she comes to NZ. I knew she was struggling with her issues but I guess I just assumed she was struggling like I was struggling: not so much with the actual use of drugs/alcohol but with the reality of being sober. We've been suppressing our feelings for so long that we don't know how to deal with them. We've not faced life challenges sober before so it's a new experience and we're like blind people feeling our way through an unfamiliar room. We bump into furniture and fall over obstacles but we're there for each other to lend a steadying hand or to pick the other up off the floor. I just found out tonight that she's been struggling in a totally different way than I have. Over the last couple of months we've both saved the other more than once. She's been the mouthpiece of my HP and I have for her as well. We've commiserated, cajoled, rescued, leaned on, cheered up each other so many times. Now she has to go on part of her journey on her own. Well, not really on her own. She'll have heaps of support. It just won't come directly from me for a while and I won't get any back from her for a bit. She's on her way to treatment, inpatient, for 42 days. It's for the best I know. It's to save her life and god knows I want her to save her life. It's just that I'm gonna miss her and I'm feeling especially selfish for it. I know she'll come out the other side healthier and happier and that's really the important part, right? It's not like I won't see her again. I don't know if she'll be allowed to keep her phone but I'm sure we'll at least be able to write to each other. I've gotten so used to the instant gratification of sending a text message and receiving an instant reply that I've forgotten what it's like to write letters. I know everything works out for the best. Hell, she should have been in Colorado today but her flight was cancelled because of a hurricane which allowed her to see her sponsor tonight which in turn allowed her sponsor to find out how much she was struggling and suggest treatment ASAP. There are no coincidences. Things happen exactly as they should and that's what's happened here. Tomorrow we'll get to spend a few hours together while I take her to the airport and for that I'm extremely grateful. We wouldn't have gotten that if not for the cancelled flight. So there's our HP working in both our lives.
Lastly, I've reconnected with a past girlfriend and that was certainly unexpected. When we split up, we kind of fell out of each other's lives. We hooked back up on Facebook but nothing too deep, the occasional "like" on a post but that was about it. Since I was down here I messaged her to meet up and we did. I got to meet her amazing new partner and hear about how her life has gone in the last 25 years. She's definitely had her ups and downs but has come through with an amazing love for life that I envy a bit. We text each other pretty much every day and will hopefully see each other one last time before I go back. I know we'll stay in touch now since we've become good friends again. It's nice to talk to someone who knew me way back when I was different from who I am today.
The word that comes to mind now that I've gone back and read this post is "grateful." I"m so grateful that these wonderful women have been placed in my path. They've been exactly what I needed when I needed it. They've lifted me up and saved my life. They've loved me when I wasn't sure I could love myself and believed in me when I definitely didn't believe in myself. Having these kinds of human connection again makes me realize how much I've missed over the last ten years and I never want to lose that again. I honestly feel that my life is finally headed onwards and upwards again!
Thursday, September 19, 2019
Sunday, September 15, 2019
Too much
All my life I've heard that I was too much. As a child, I got Unsatisfactory in conduct all the time because I talked too much. I was seemingly unable to keep my mouth shut. As I got older, it didn't improve. Junior high saw me get put in the corner a lot because I talked too much or disrupted the class. High school, I developed a bit of a reputation as a minor troublemaker because I was disruptive. I cracked jokes and made people laugh. I talked during the lecture. Whatever. I was told time and time again: You're too loud! You talk too much! You're too disruptive! You fill every room you're in! You don't leave enough room for other people to breathe! You suck all the oxygen out of the room! I've heard this so many times that it's become a sore spot for me.
I discovered at an early age that when I drank I didn't care if I was too much. Other people might care but I didn't. I suddenly felt able to express myself any damn way I wanted to! I know it made me even louder. I know it made me talk even more. I didn't care. That was the beauty of it for me. I didn't care. Until I did. Until it became a problem. Until I started losing friends and getting banned from bars. Then I started to care again.
I can almost pinpoint the exact moment when I realized that while alcohol made me worse, drugs made me better. I had a terrible crash and burn in Witchita Falls and moved back to Austin. That's when I met Star and that's when I discovered that drugs mellowed me out. The first time I dropped acid with her, the frantic energy that constantly lived in my brain quieted. The first time I did mushrooms, the same thing happened. I could be in the world without overwhelming it. Suddenly I had a solution. Until I didn't. Until I could no longer drink because it made me black out. Until the drugs that made me mellow were actually separating me from my feelings and from all other people. Sure, I was mellow but I was also so numb I wouldn't have known a feeling if it had fallen from the sky on my head. I existed in a constant state of lethargy in my own mind. I was convinced that the drugs now made me "speedy" when in reality all they did was lift my mood enough for me not to be sick. There at the end, I would take my 30 pills at once and for a few minutes I would feel "good" then I went back to feeling shitty again. In actuality the "good" feeling was just my body not being in withdrawal for a bit.
Getting clean and sober this time, I've discovered some things about myself. I LIKE being too much. I LIKE all this energy crackling out of me. I LIKE being super talkative and bubbly. The feeling I've had most days since I got sober IS the feeling I've been chasing for years! I had forgotten that it was my natural state and I had forgotten how much I liked it!
Last weekend at the AA conference, I was on a really big high. I was around lots of people, many of them I knew. I was, for brief periods, the center of attention which I love. I was chatty and happy and energetic. I was really hyperactive, I'll be the first to admit. I feed off people. The more people around me the higher I get. I can stand in the middle of a gathering and feel energy coming off people in waves. I lap that shit up like a thirsty puppy. I can almost see my pores opening and taking in all that energy. I LOVE that feeling! That's the best high I've ever experienced only somewhere along the way the last couple of decades I forgot that. I forgot how great I feel around people. I've spent the last few years isolating myself, walling myself up in my castle not letting down that drawbridge for pretty much anyone. Shannon has been allowed in for a while but even her I've held at arms' length most times. I've only had my own mind to live in and that is NOT a good place for me to be. When I'm in myself, I'm unable to tell what's real and what's delusion, what's actually happening and what's wishful thinking, or, more accurately, what's negative self-talk. If my mind didn't need my body to walk around in, it would gladly kill me and that's what it's been trying to do for the last few years. Left to my own devices, I begin to think that I'm worthless and the world is better off without me.
Anyway, back to the AA conference last weekend. I was on a really big high. When I got home on Friday night, I was almost totally unable to sleep. I tossed and turned and finally got up after less than two hours of sleep. I was wired! Saturday was more of the same. I was hyperactive and super energetic. I was also sensitive and touchy. I got a bit resentful at people for pointing out how hyper and energetic I was because it felt like they were holding up a spotlight to my sore spot. Well, come to find out someone went to my sponsor days later to ask if I was okay. This person, she wouldn't tell me who, had asked her if I was on something. Now, I'll be the first to admit that when she told me this I was insulted. Why would they go to her and ask and not come to me? Why would they think I was on something? Well, after some introspection and reflection I've decided that this is a good thing. Someone cared enough about me to go to my sponsor and make sure I was okay. Not to be a nosy gossip but to check in that everything was alright with me. That I was still sober and working my program. I've decided to be happy about that! Not that long ago, there wasn't hardly anyone who would have cared enough to check on me. There wasn't anyone they could have gone to that would have known if I was okay or not. Today I have a network of people who will check on me, who know what I'm up to, and who will ask if they think I need help. That's a blessing.
I discovered at an early age that when I drank I didn't care if I was too much. Other people might care but I didn't. I suddenly felt able to express myself any damn way I wanted to! I know it made me even louder. I know it made me talk even more. I didn't care. That was the beauty of it for me. I didn't care. Until I did. Until it became a problem. Until I started losing friends and getting banned from bars. Then I started to care again.
I can almost pinpoint the exact moment when I realized that while alcohol made me worse, drugs made me better. I had a terrible crash and burn in Witchita Falls and moved back to Austin. That's when I met Star and that's when I discovered that drugs mellowed me out. The first time I dropped acid with her, the frantic energy that constantly lived in my brain quieted. The first time I did mushrooms, the same thing happened. I could be in the world without overwhelming it. Suddenly I had a solution. Until I didn't. Until I could no longer drink because it made me black out. Until the drugs that made me mellow were actually separating me from my feelings and from all other people. Sure, I was mellow but I was also so numb I wouldn't have known a feeling if it had fallen from the sky on my head. I existed in a constant state of lethargy in my own mind. I was convinced that the drugs now made me "speedy" when in reality all they did was lift my mood enough for me not to be sick. There at the end, I would take my 30 pills at once and for a few minutes I would feel "good" then I went back to feeling shitty again. In actuality the "good" feeling was just my body not being in withdrawal for a bit.
Getting clean and sober this time, I've discovered some things about myself. I LIKE being too much. I LIKE all this energy crackling out of me. I LIKE being super talkative and bubbly. The feeling I've had most days since I got sober IS the feeling I've been chasing for years! I had forgotten that it was my natural state and I had forgotten how much I liked it!
Last weekend at the AA conference, I was on a really big high. I was around lots of people, many of them I knew. I was, for brief periods, the center of attention which I love. I was chatty and happy and energetic. I was really hyperactive, I'll be the first to admit. I feed off people. The more people around me the higher I get. I can stand in the middle of a gathering and feel energy coming off people in waves. I lap that shit up like a thirsty puppy. I can almost see my pores opening and taking in all that energy. I LOVE that feeling! That's the best high I've ever experienced only somewhere along the way the last couple of decades I forgot that. I forgot how great I feel around people. I've spent the last few years isolating myself, walling myself up in my castle not letting down that drawbridge for pretty much anyone. Shannon has been allowed in for a while but even her I've held at arms' length most times. I've only had my own mind to live in and that is NOT a good place for me to be. When I'm in myself, I'm unable to tell what's real and what's delusion, what's actually happening and what's wishful thinking, or, more accurately, what's negative self-talk. If my mind didn't need my body to walk around in, it would gladly kill me and that's what it's been trying to do for the last few years. Left to my own devices, I begin to think that I'm worthless and the world is better off without me.
Anyway, back to the AA conference last weekend. I was on a really big high. When I got home on Friday night, I was almost totally unable to sleep. I tossed and turned and finally got up after less than two hours of sleep. I was wired! Saturday was more of the same. I was hyperactive and super energetic. I was also sensitive and touchy. I got a bit resentful at people for pointing out how hyper and energetic I was because it felt like they were holding up a spotlight to my sore spot. Well, come to find out someone went to my sponsor days later to ask if I was okay. This person, she wouldn't tell me who, had asked her if I was on something. Now, I'll be the first to admit that when she told me this I was insulted. Why would they go to her and ask and not come to me? Why would they think I was on something? Well, after some introspection and reflection I've decided that this is a good thing. Someone cared enough about me to go to my sponsor and make sure I was okay. Not to be a nosy gossip but to check in that everything was alright with me. That I was still sober and working my program. I've decided to be happy about that! Not that long ago, there wasn't hardly anyone who would have cared enough to check on me. There wasn't anyone they could have gone to that would have known if I was okay or not. Today I have a network of people who will check on me, who know what I'm up to, and who will ask if they think I need help. That's a blessing.
Tuesday, September 10, 2019
It's been ten years
Ten years ago today my father shot himself in the head. Shannon and I
had been living with my parents for quite a while. I came home from
work that night and Jim told me what had happened. I remember my
overwhelming feeling was anger. I was so angry that he had done
something so utterly selfish. My feeling today is still anger.
My father and I had always had a complicated relationship. He left my mom and me when I was four. We moved from Dallas to Marble Falls and into the hotel my grandparents owned. For the next 15 years I saw him very infrequently. I was quite close to his parents so I was at their house all the time. He would say he was going to come visit me there. I would stay up as late as I could, sometimes falling asleep on the floor waiting for him and he wouldn't show up. Years later I found out he would come visit friends just a few miles away but not come see me. I thought it was my fault. I thought I wasn't worth him visiting.
My main memories of him are how much fun he was. He was the life of every party. He played guitar and sang songs like Hello Walls and Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog. He was charismatic and people were drawn to him. He had a big booming voice and an infectious laugh. He was great until he got too much alcohol. Once he hit a certain point, he wasn't fun anymore. He became an asshole. He would yell and throw things and have temper tantrums. The next day he was always contrite, ready with an apology. He'd say he wouldn't do it again but he always did.
When I was around 10 or 11, he married a woman named Lee. She was an even worse alcoholic than he was. My only memory of her was going camping with the two of them and my uncle. At some point, she became angry and belligerent and my father decided it was time to take her home. He loaded us all up in his van and off we went back to Austin. During the trip, Lee became enraged at me and tried to throw me out of the van as it hurtled down the interstate at 70 mph. Luckily my uncle caught me before she could do that. Lee was like a wild animal so Bruce handcuffed her to something inside the van. Once we arrived at my grandparents house, he left her out there all night long. They divorced soon afterwards.
His third marriage was to a woman named Julie who had three kids. He adopted those kids and gave them my name. I hated that. They weren't real Boatmans! After being married for several years, one day he just walked out and never went back. It was more than three months before Julie knew that he wasn't dead and had run away. I have no idea what happened to them after that.
When I was 18, I rode on an Amtrak train halfway across Texas from Austin to Alpine to visit him for the summer. We had a great time at first. We watched old movies he had recorded off the TV. Soylent Green was a particular favorite. He would invite friends over and there'd be parties. One time he ran out of toilet paper so he attached a blow dryer to the roll holder. He was a hoot. He drank beer for most of the day and then at night he'd switch to mixed drinks. He would get me to mix his drinks for him and I would fill the glass up with coke then splash a little bit of whiskey on the top so it would taste much stronger than it actually was. I knew that the fun-loving Bruce would soon disappear once he got enough whiskey in his system. I don't remember exactly how it all fell out but fall out we did. I left and didn't speak to him again for another 15 years.
I got into recovery the first time in 2002. I knew that I could no longer carry this anger and resentment I felt towards him. It was wearing me out and causing me pain so I decided to forgive him. He was still drinking at this point. He was always drinking. I stayed with him for about five days and we had a really good time. I was in a place of forgiveness and he had mellowed with age. At the end of the visit we parted as friends. Perhaps not father and daughter but friends.
I spoke to him sporadically until 2006 when my grandparents died. After my grandpa died, he sat up all night in their dining room drinking and brooding. I'm sure he felt he had unfinished business. When my father was a small boy my grandpa accidentally set him on fire. He went through months of painful debridement treatments. His grandfather gave him a silver dollar after each one. At some point, my grandfather stole all those silver dollars and bought booze with it. Bruce carried that around his whole life. During the night a few days after grandpa died, Bruce broke the dining room table which was made from glass. He said it had just broken but I'm pretty sure he got angry and broke it. Four days after Grandpa died, Bruce stole his van and drove it back to Alpine. I tried to get Granny to press charges but she wouldn't. Bruce was always her golden child even though my uncle was the one who straightened out his life, not Bruce.
Just a few months later my granny died. Bruce was insufferable the whole time he was there. He was drinking in the house which was one thing that was NOT done. He left in a huff and I never spoke to him again.
When Jim called to say he was dead he told me this tale. He said that Bruce and Maere had gotten into a big fight. Bruce had gotten really drunk, as usual. He also became very angry, as usual. This time, however, he was going to show Maere that he did NOT have a problem. So he went out into the culvert next to their street and shot himself in the head. Blew out half his brain. Maere had to be the one to find him like that. Can you imagine? I know most suicides don't even consider the person who will find them or the people they leave behind. What an asshole, though, that he let Maere be the one to see that.
So here we are, ten years later. He had just bought some property that I inherited. I still haven't gotten put into my name so I can sell it. I've keep paying the taxes because I'll be damned if I let anyone insert themselves in that. He burned through so much money in his life that this bit of property is the least he could have left. He got about $80K from the sell of my grandparents house and within six months it was all gone.
I'm just so fucking angry at him for doing that. What a cowards way out! Rather than do the tough work to get into recovery and make a better person of yourself, you just blow your head off. What a coward! It's late now and I'm sleepy so I'll have to postpone the rest of this diatribe to later.
My father and I had always had a complicated relationship. He left my mom and me when I was four. We moved from Dallas to Marble Falls and into the hotel my grandparents owned. For the next 15 years I saw him very infrequently. I was quite close to his parents so I was at their house all the time. He would say he was going to come visit me there. I would stay up as late as I could, sometimes falling asleep on the floor waiting for him and he wouldn't show up. Years later I found out he would come visit friends just a few miles away but not come see me. I thought it was my fault. I thought I wasn't worth him visiting.
My main memories of him are how much fun he was. He was the life of every party. He played guitar and sang songs like Hello Walls and Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog. He was charismatic and people were drawn to him. He had a big booming voice and an infectious laugh. He was great until he got too much alcohol. Once he hit a certain point, he wasn't fun anymore. He became an asshole. He would yell and throw things and have temper tantrums. The next day he was always contrite, ready with an apology. He'd say he wouldn't do it again but he always did.
When I was around 10 or 11, he married a woman named Lee. She was an even worse alcoholic than he was. My only memory of her was going camping with the two of them and my uncle. At some point, she became angry and belligerent and my father decided it was time to take her home. He loaded us all up in his van and off we went back to Austin. During the trip, Lee became enraged at me and tried to throw me out of the van as it hurtled down the interstate at 70 mph. Luckily my uncle caught me before she could do that. Lee was like a wild animal so Bruce handcuffed her to something inside the van. Once we arrived at my grandparents house, he left her out there all night long. They divorced soon afterwards.
His third marriage was to a woman named Julie who had three kids. He adopted those kids and gave them my name. I hated that. They weren't real Boatmans! After being married for several years, one day he just walked out and never went back. It was more than three months before Julie knew that he wasn't dead and had run away. I have no idea what happened to them after that.
When I was 18, I rode on an Amtrak train halfway across Texas from Austin to Alpine to visit him for the summer. We had a great time at first. We watched old movies he had recorded off the TV. Soylent Green was a particular favorite. He would invite friends over and there'd be parties. One time he ran out of toilet paper so he attached a blow dryer to the roll holder. He was a hoot. He drank beer for most of the day and then at night he'd switch to mixed drinks. He would get me to mix his drinks for him and I would fill the glass up with coke then splash a little bit of whiskey on the top so it would taste much stronger than it actually was. I knew that the fun-loving Bruce would soon disappear once he got enough whiskey in his system. I don't remember exactly how it all fell out but fall out we did. I left and didn't speak to him again for another 15 years.
I got into recovery the first time in 2002. I knew that I could no longer carry this anger and resentment I felt towards him. It was wearing me out and causing me pain so I decided to forgive him. He was still drinking at this point. He was always drinking. I stayed with him for about five days and we had a really good time. I was in a place of forgiveness and he had mellowed with age. At the end of the visit we parted as friends. Perhaps not father and daughter but friends.
I spoke to him sporadically until 2006 when my grandparents died. After my grandpa died, he sat up all night in their dining room drinking and brooding. I'm sure he felt he had unfinished business. When my father was a small boy my grandpa accidentally set him on fire. He went through months of painful debridement treatments. His grandfather gave him a silver dollar after each one. At some point, my grandfather stole all those silver dollars and bought booze with it. Bruce carried that around his whole life. During the night a few days after grandpa died, Bruce broke the dining room table which was made from glass. He said it had just broken but I'm pretty sure he got angry and broke it. Four days after Grandpa died, Bruce stole his van and drove it back to Alpine. I tried to get Granny to press charges but she wouldn't. Bruce was always her golden child even though my uncle was the one who straightened out his life, not Bruce.
Just a few months later my granny died. Bruce was insufferable the whole time he was there. He was drinking in the house which was one thing that was NOT done. He left in a huff and I never spoke to him again.
When Jim called to say he was dead he told me this tale. He said that Bruce and Maere had gotten into a big fight. Bruce had gotten really drunk, as usual. He also became very angry, as usual. This time, however, he was going to show Maere that he did NOT have a problem. So he went out into the culvert next to their street and shot himself in the head. Blew out half his brain. Maere had to be the one to find him like that. Can you imagine? I know most suicides don't even consider the person who will find them or the people they leave behind. What an asshole, though, that he let Maere be the one to see that.
So here we are, ten years later. He had just bought some property that I inherited. I still haven't gotten put into my name so I can sell it. I've keep paying the taxes because I'll be damned if I let anyone insert themselves in that. He burned through so much money in his life that this bit of property is the least he could have left. He got about $80K from the sell of my grandparents house and within six months it was all gone.
I'm just so fucking angry at him for doing that. What a cowards way out! Rather than do the tough work to get into recovery and make a better person of yourself, you just blow your head off. What a coward! It's late now and I'm sleepy so I'll have to postpone the rest of this diatribe to later.
Monday, September 9, 2019
What a great weekend!
Today I have 43 days clean and sober. 43 days may not sound like much but to me it's a miracle. I didn't think I could get 43 hours a couple months ago. And the way I feel now is exactly the feeling I was chasing with drugs and alcohol. Now that I've cleaned out all the substances, I'm energetic, bubbly, happy. I feel great!
This past weekend I went to an AA conference in Burnet. Friday evening Shawnda and I met up to ride together. It's amazing how two people who appear so different could have so much in common. Talking to her is just so easy because she understands exactly how I feel about most things. Even though we've had such disparate life experiences we are very much on the same page. I'm so glad we met because this whole Texas rehab thing wouldn't have been the same without her. She has a tattoo on her wrist of the world map but didn't have NZ on there and I was giving her a hard time about that. Today she went and got NZ put on there and told me that she's glad it wasn't on there before because it means so much more now. It's just the most amazing feeling to have relationships with people like that now. Before, when I was using and drinking, I didn't connect with anyone. I kept everyone at arms length, even my wife. I had built a barrier between feelings of any kind and myself. It's impossible to connect with anyone when they can't reach you. I've dropped all those walls now and I FEEL! I feel so much! But even the painful feelings are amazing though. I feel so much more alive now than I think I did even when I got sober the last time. I feel alive like only someone who saw their own death can feel. Everything is sweeter.
Anyway, when we got to the conference there were heaps of people I've met since I got here. People who like me and wanted to talk to me. People I wanted to be around. Our first speaker was a woman named Jamie from Witchita Falls. I have a history with Witchita Falls that I will probably talk about later but suffice to say that there was a TON of alcohol involved at that time. Anyway, she was an excellent speaker. She's the mother of five children with two sets of twins! That's just crazy! Her story was quite inspiring and I got a lot out of it. At the end of the evening we had the nightowl meeting which was as usual a lot of fun. Shawnda and I talked all the way back to her car and then finally had to pull ourselves away or we'd have just sat in the car and talked all night.
That night I could hardly sleep at all. I was so wired after an evening spent with people, talking and laughing and having a grand old time. I truly had forgotten how wired I get when I'm with lots of people. This is the feeling I've been chasing! It's so fucked up that I was trying to catch it by getting high and that's the one thing that chases it off. I can never feel this good on drugs or drinking because I don't feel anything. I hope I don't forget that again.
I was up at 6:30am on Saturday morning so I went on into the conference. I thought I'd probably miss the 9am speaker because it was at 9am, lol. I'm glad I made it because Cliff was awesome! He's a lawyer from Oklahoma. His story was quite compelling as well. The next speaker was his wife, Lori, who's in Alanon. I'd not heard the same story from the different sides before. The two of them together made for a compelling story. In between the speakers I got to talk to a lot of people. I'm actually astonished at how many people I've connected with in just the last 43 days. I've made some lasting friendships that I'll take back to NZ with me.
Our afternoon speaker was my favorite, Katherine from Abilene. She was probably the least polished of the bunch but her speaking style was so heartfelt and she had such a vulnerability about her. I really connected with a lot of what she had to say. It's one of the greatest things about AA that we can all come from such different backgrounds and yet have so much in common. I was really into her talk and then afterwards she told me that I had given her some great energy while she spoke. She also covered the most ground of the other speakers. A good recovery speaker should tell you how it was, what happened, and what it's like now. She did all that and hit on the 12 steps and the Promises. She was excellent.
The last two speakers were Vince and Ken. Vince was good. Ken was meh. He spent more time talking about his good works than he did about recovery. I can't really complain though because the whole weekend was a gift.
The nightowl meeting on Saturday was the most special. About halfway through, this couple came in and sat down. Turns out they're from Fort Worth. They'd had a death in the family and were traveling. They were sorely in need of a meeting and just happened to stumble into ours. It was truly a god thing. Her name was Ann and she told me to write down five things I'm grateful for every single day. I'm still trying to get a morning practice habit going so I'll incorporate that into it.
Tonight I played bunco with the ladies and had such a good time! The last time I played I was still drinking. This time I had a clear head and enjoyed myself so much! They all even commented on how much fun I was. This sober life is absolutely amazing and it just gets better every day. I'm so grateful to get to experience it!
This past weekend I went to an AA conference in Burnet. Friday evening Shawnda and I met up to ride together. It's amazing how two people who appear so different could have so much in common. Talking to her is just so easy because she understands exactly how I feel about most things. Even though we've had such disparate life experiences we are very much on the same page. I'm so glad we met because this whole Texas rehab thing wouldn't have been the same without her. She has a tattoo on her wrist of the world map but didn't have NZ on there and I was giving her a hard time about that. Today she went and got NZ put on there and told me that she's glad it wasn't on there before because it means so much more now. It's just the most amazing feeling to have relationships with people like that now. Before, when I was using and drinking, I didn't connect with anyone. I kept everyone at arms length, even my wife. I had built a barrier between feelings of any kind and myself. It's impossible to connect with anyone when they can't reach you. I've dropped all those walls now and I FEEL! I feel so much! But even the painful feelings are amazing though. I feel so much more alive now than I think I did even when I got sober the last time. I feel alive like only someone who saw their own death can feel. Everything is sweeter.
Anyway, when we got to the conference there were heaps of people I've met since I got here. People who like me and wanted to talk to me. People I wanted to be around. Our first speaker was a woman named Jamie from Witchita Falls. I have a history with Witchita Falls that I will probably talk about later but suffice to say that there was a TON of alcohol involved at that time. Anyway, she was an excellent speaker. She's the mother of five children with two sets of twins! That's just crazy! Her story was quite inspiring and I got a lot out of it. At the end of the evening we had the nightowl meeting which was as usual a lot of fun. Shawnda and I talked all the way back to her car and then finally had to pull ourselves away or we'd have just sat in the car and talked all night.
That night I could hardly sleep at all. I was so wired after an evening spent with people, talking and laughing and having a grand old time. I truly had forgotten how wired I get when I'm with lots of people. This is the feeling I've been chasing! It's so fucked up that I was trying to catch it by getting high and that's the one thing that chases it off. I can never feel this good on drugs or drinking because I don't feel anything. I hope I don't forget that again.
I was up at 6:30am on Saturday morning so I went on into the conference. I thought I'd probably miss the 9am speaker because it was at 9am, lol. I'm glad I made it because Cliff was awesome! He's a lawyer from Oklahoma. His story was quite compelling as well. The next speaker was his wife, Lori, who's in Alanon. I'd not heard the same story from the different sides before. The two of them together made for a compelling story. In between the speakers I got to talk to a lot of people. I'm actually astonished at how many people I've connected with in just the last 43 days. I've made some lasting friendships that I'll take back to NZ with me.
Our afternoon speaker was my favorite, Katherine from Abilene. She was probably the least polished of the bunch but her speaking style was so heartfelt and she had such a vulnerability about her. I really connected with a lot of what she had to say. It's one of the greatest things about AA that we can all come from such different backgrounds and yet have so much in common. I was really into her talk and then afterwards she told me that I had given her some great energy while she spoke. She also covered the most ground of the other speakers. A good recovery speaker should tell you how it was, what happened, and what it's like now. She did all that and hit on the 12 steps and the Promises. She was excellent.
The last two speakers were Vince and Ken. Vince was good. Ken was meh. He spent more time talking about his good works than he did about recovery. I can't really complain though because the whole weekend was a gift.
The nightowl meeting on Saturday was the most special. About halfway through, this couple came in and sat down. Turns out they're from Fort Worth. They'd had a death in the family and were traveling. They were sorely in need of a meeting and just happened to stumble into ours. It was truly a god thing. Her name was Ann and she told me to write down five things I'm grateful for every single day. I'm still trying to get a morning practice habit going so I'll incorporate that into it.
Tonight I played bunco with the ladies and had such a good time! The last time I played I was still drinking. This time I had a clear head and enjoyed myself so much! They all even commented on how much fun I was. This sober life is absolutely amazing and it just gets better every day. I'm so grateful to get to experience it!
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