I Still Don't Want to Drink

I've probably never been quite as equipped with excuses to dump a few liters of liquor down my hair covered face. 

Radiating waves of some of the most intense and foreign pain roll in and roll out.  It's grief.  I hate grief... it's never easy when things we hold close to ourselves die, even if those things were unhealthy, even if you could see it coming.  There's just no way a person can be prepared... I've watched people in my family die who I thought would live forever, I've watched relationships die that I thought would live forever.  Cognitively, of course I know there's not guarantee of permanence in any of this, in fact quite the opposite is true.  What I do, sometimes stupidly allow, is the starry eyed belief that maybe it will be different, maybe I can approach the relationship with the belief that it's permanent.  Losing someone is horrifying, helpless doesn't really begin to describe what a person feels like when someone slips away.  The writing is on the wall, and I just keep staring at the floor.  It's just incredible how denial can work so well.  Sometimes I'm grateful for it, sometimes I'm resentful.  My brain doesn't seem to know the difference between productive healing pain and unhealthy misery, laden with self abuse and hate.  All my brain knows is, "Pain effing blows... get it outta here."  So, in my life, I've allowed unhealthy things to continue far too long and I've intentionally put off soaking through healing grief because I didn't want to feel it.  Both are bad, both can be avoided with a diligent awareness (an awareness I only seem to possess when I don't need it).  Denial isn't always bad, it exists for a good reason... but when I don't keep an eye on it I actually set myself up for more pain than I would have otherwise.

Anyways... I'm obviously struggling with a lot of personal issues that remain unresolved.  When it's appropriate for me to talk about them in a forum like this I will, until then... maybe don't be so effing nosy? Mmmmk?  The point of this post is to take a minute and look inward at the best things about me right now and I encourage any of you to do that same... that means everyone, even you.  For me, I've struggled a lot with personal identity, for most of my adult life I've completely denied myself a voice and defined myself by what I'm doing, who I'm in love with, where I work, what I'm doing academically.  I don't think I'm alone here... head over to an in laws Christmas and think about answering the question, "So what are you doing? How have you been?"  You're likely going to list off your annual resume with a handful of embellishments and positive spins.  You're not going to say much of anything about your own personal growth or the things you can really feel good about independent of what you happen to be doing.  "Yeah, Janet... I've been in therapy all year and I've never felt more self-actualized."  She would have spit in my face and denied me scalloped corn.  Which is why I talked about my internship, my job, my mother's health... etc. (I really did like her scalloped corn).  The problem with being so caught up in defining myself by external things is, well, they're all gone.  So, I'm left with this sense of being noone, when these things that are so much a part of how I define myself fall away... just who in the hell am I? 

I'm 31 and I'm certainly not where I thought I would be... face it haters, I'm talented.  I was pretty sure I was already going to have been published and be working on my 3rd or 4th million dollars.  As it stands, I'm living with my second set of parents, I lost my job due to a psychiatric hospitalization, I've been arrested 7 times for alcohol related offenses and I'm headed to jail for a yet to be determined amount of time... so, my PhD is going to have to wait, again.  There's a resume for you... drop that one on Janet at the stupid effing white elephant, yankee swap, Christmas extravaganza. 

I am responsible for all of these things, for all of these losses and pain.  These are things I've done and I will do nothing short of standing up admitting my wrong and accepting the consequences.  Whenever I emerge from this tunnel I have build myself that I am now crawling through I want to be able to turn around and look at where I was and say, "Tyler, you handled that as well as you possibly could have."  I don't want to look back and feel like I have wasted that time or sat alone in a dark room and felt sorry for myself.  Because, that facts are... all this fallout is a result of a bomb that I dropped.  The consequences have been many and there are more still to come, I can choose to be a cry baby bitch about it or I can choose to accept them as my reality and be accountable and present, nothing I do can change their inevitability.  So why not get my best Victor Frankl on and find some meaning inside this seemingly meaningless period in my life?

If there ever were a time when people would maybe, not only expect me to be in a bathtub full of Scotch, but perhaps even understand it, it's now.  There is nothing inside of me that is driven to numb out this experience.  There has never been a greater opportunity for growth in my life.  I am going to enter a jail holding on to nothing except all of the things that make me who I am.  I will have nothing to lean on, no crutches, no external hopes... nothing to distract me from the reality of the experience.  It's going to be awful, it has been awful for months already, but I don't want to miss it.  I need to feel this, I need to feel all of it.  As awful as it's going to be, in a lot of ways it will be a chance to wave goodbye to the fumbling disaster my life has been for 5 years and be reborn to a life full of new hopes, new people and new opportunities.

I am not what I've done.  I am not what I'm doing.  I am not what my intentions are.  I am not those fancy papers that I hang on my wall.  I am a man who loves.  I am smart.  I am deep.  I'm funny and infectious (in a good way, not like herpes).  I'm a lot of things that, when I take the time to look at, I really really like.  These are only a few of the things that make me who I am, there are hundreds of thousands of things like this that live within all of us.  No matter what happens... these are things I can always pick up and take with me where ever I may go.  They are permanent, they are me.  Who are you?

Important. Period.

What did I learn in college?  Lots of stuff... most of it's forgotton, which actually is some kind of justice, since my degree doesn't seem to be helping me personally or professionally.  There was one thing though, that stuck and stuck like glue.  It is absolutely the single most important thing I learned in college and having this awareness alone makes the ridiculous tuition at a major public university worth it.  So, just read this, save your money, and move on.

I was a philosophy major in college for a few semesters and it caused more problems for me than it did me good... it's just constant cycling, it's an intellectual 3 ring circus, with no elephants.  One of the things I gravitated toward was "meaning" like, purpose, you know?  Like what is the meaning of all of this, all of this effort, what is it for?  I don't remember who it was I was reading but I remember the message.  It's something like this, obviously this isn't verbatim.  

Human beings have an incurable tendency to want to be important, not conditionally important... but important PERIOD.  That raises a whole host of problems, because ultimately, no one ever really achieves that.  It's an impossibility... even the Sun isn't important period.  It's important to everyone on Earth and it's important to our solar system... but it's not important in the context of the Milky Way, there are billions of stars in this galaxy and more than billions of galaxies in the Universe.  If I'm looking to be important period... well... I'm always going to be frustrated and unhappy.  So... why not just tie large weighted objects to my feet and throw myself off a bridge, would it really matter?  If life is painful and the storm really shows no signs of letting up, what the fuck am I doing this for?   Well, I may not be important period, but I am important conditionally, and so are you.  If I can find meaning in my life in my mother or my father or my relationships or my dogs or a cause or writing or making people's day or whatever... then all of those things are important and all of those things make me important.  Yeah, so, you might say, "Well, if you love someone and they love you but ultimately you're both meaningless then the meaning you find in each other doesn't matter and you're both just a wash of meaningless misery."  I would say in return, "I have some weights and rope in my basement... there's a bridge right down the street."

If the meaning I find in my life means nothing to you... I'm fine with that.  Ultimately, whatever meaning I find is enough for me, so long as I choose to look for it and as long as I have no expectations of being important period.

Period.

tg

Damage

There has always been plenty that I don't understand about myself.  Lately though, the gorge between how I feel and what I think has been so wide that it is nearly impossible to be one person for a whole day... and whichever person walks into the spotlight feels like an alien, like someone I don't know and have never met.  My heart believes I cannot go on without things my brain knows I can't have and don't want.  The only thing that is consistent is that no matter what perspective I'm shoving to the front of the line it is followed by a large crowd of painful emotions, fear, shame, hurt, sadness... I have never felt lower emotionally, I've never had less confidence and I've never felt so powerless.  It's uncharted territory for me, and it certainly feels as though I'm confused as to how to get out of it.  One thing that has been maintained is my sobriety since August 12th.  I know that doesn't sound like much, but it feels good and I feel really good about my recovery. 

When I was arrested in August it was incredibly damaging to a lot of things that are important to me.  My friendships have suffered, my relationship is in many pieces, my self image is lower than it has ever been and generally I'm just a wimpering, hopeless, terrified man.

I don't have any excuses and I don't want anyone to hold their judgements... this is a ridiculous truth, it is reality.  I had already started to undermine my relationships and push people away.  I told myself that I was doing this, "for you, to protect you."  Partially that's true, but the real motivator to do this was because I couldn't handle the guilt of hurting the people I loved, I couldn't see their faces any more.  So instead of grabbing control of my life and stopping the destructive behavior, I surmised that it would be easier to dismantle my relationships.

At some point in a relationship, the love still exists, both parties wish it were possible, but it just simply isn't and it's hard to nail down exactly why.  People will often say things like, "sometimes there's just too much damamge done." it's pretty much universally accepted.  Any relationship with me and my alcoholism certainly qualifies.  The real problem with damage isn't necessarly the hurt caused, but the embarassment and shame of remaining in a relationship with someone that hurts you, or hurts themselves... or both.  This is an idea at the core of my emotional, cognitive disconnect right now.  I completely support the idea that whomever is with me during this should move on, should see the outside, should shine, should grow, should have wild ammounts of freedom and fun.  It's time to step out from behind the curtain of whatever relationship you're in and say... "Look at me Damn It!"  I'm not just a wonderful girlfriend, I'm not just the pretty girl on the arm of Mr. Personality... I'm pretty fucking awesome myself. 

Feeling the pressure of the family and friends is not an easy thing to deal with either.  I don't know what your friends are like, but mine are always quick to tell me what they think of whomever I'm dating.  I always know I'm in trouble if I find myself defending my lady.  "I know she's young but she is exactly what I want."  "I know she's emotionally unavailable and a bit of an Ice Queen, but it balances really well with my emotional awareness" are both things I've said in my last 2 long term relationships.  I've always been able to tell how much I really believed in who I was with based on how hard I fought back when my friends and family ecouraged me to either "get out," or told me,"I could do better."  Well unfortunately for me at this point... there is just no way for anyone to defend their choice to stay with me.  And I understand it wholly... I believe it's right.  I have a great deal of respect and pride in MRE for doing the things that she is doing, because more than anything I just want her to be happy, she deserves it, lord knows, with her experiences in love, she deserves a story with a happy ending.  Nobody wants to be ashamed or embarrassed about who they choose to be with.  With an honest evaluation of myself, the kind of person that wouldn't be embarrassed to date me right now is either an Angel or a Demon and I'm not sure I have the chops to date either one... although, depending upon the hotness factor of the Demon, that might be pretty fun. 

The real sickening part for me about all of this is that I am in love with her, deeply, and that is what lives on the other side of the gap from rational thought and reason.  What I know is right and what I feel is right are about as far apart as anything could possibly ever be.  It causes all sorts of emotions I don't know what to do with.  It's been my experience over my life that all of these things seem to work themselves out however they are supposed to.  It does feel different to me this time in a way I can't quite put my finger on.  Maybe it's because I'm down so low?  Maybe it's because I've never been quite this ready to settle down?  Maybe it's because I've never been more confident about the long term potential of a partner?  One thing is for sure, having the genuine thoughts of hapiness and pride in her for moving on and getting out there doing her thing does not mix well at all with the anguish my heart feels knowing that she has bumped me down the list of her heart.

It leaves me not knowing how to behave and not knowing how do grieve.  I just want the same things all of us do... happiness, joy, peace and love.  I am just tired of pushing them all away when they are all around me.  I am 31, this is not what I want for my life.  One step at a time... things will make sense, I do believe that.

Thirty-One

Hey, I made it passed thirty... so it's time to cough up the dough for everyone who threw cash down on the, "Under."

I took a good look at myself in the mirror today and I saw a good man.  A good man who hasn't been taking care of himself, not physically, emotionally or spiritually.  Everyone knows about my long, dysfunctional relationship with alcohol, I choose not to keep it hidden because it's important to acknowledge that it is part of me, fundamentally, part of what makes Tyler, Tyler.  I am not ashamed of it, no one should be ashamed of what they are, no matter what they are.  My shame comes from what I do, rather than what I am, and trust me, there's plenty.  The fact that I'm so aware of how dangerous alcohol is for me makes the way I've managed it in recent years all that much more negligent. 

If anyone has been keeping up to speed on my misadventures, you know that I was arrested for the 6th time and 3rd OWI in August.  All of the arrests are alcohol related.  I could spend time blaming circumstances, people or fate, but that's all complete bullshit.  If I step back and put my counselor glasses on, it is Crystal, if you remove the alcohol from my life... 95% of my problems just simply don't exist. 

It is clearly time to grow up.  I need to start taking my life a bit more seriously.  I am someone who since I was a little boy, never absolutely had to do anything I didn't want to do.  I still feel that way, only now, it's not the case.  I have had more opportunities and good fortune in 31 years than most people do in a lifetime.  I don't have much to show for it.  When I look back and my academic and employment history, I could very easily be a 6 figure guy if I didn't choose to pick up that bottle.  It's like a reset button that I hit whenever I start to make some real headway in any endeavor.  It's like I'm afraid of success and subconsciously sabotage myself.  I don't feel like I have a fear of pressure or leadership but I certainly do seem comfortable in the role of "the child."

This isn't a downer post on my special day, just a fallout of prose after an epiphany.  I have been living my life, possibly forever, but certainly with regard to my addiction, as though there will always be someone there to bail me out or force me to dust myself off and keep going.  That's a delusion I can no longer afford to carry.  It is time for me to start thinking about my life 5-10 years from now, and to lay out a loose plan for how to proceed. 

The fact is, I am very little of what I want to be and I've not done enough to ensure I reach my goals.  I always thought of myself as a compassionate man, with many talents and an effing peerless sense of humor.  I haven't allowed much of that to come out and live, I choose to hold myself hostage in the prison cell of my alcoholism.

Spending time looking in my rear-view serves me well only if I adjust my behavior base on what I see.  If I want to become the man I want to be, it's time to start working in that direction.  All I can do is put one foot down in front of the other and walk slowly up this hill.  I want to repay those people who held me up, I want to stand with my chest out as a man that can be looked up to and whose company can be enjoyed.  I want to be a pillar of support to everyone in my life.  I want stability and happiness.  I am tired of being the center of attention... I am just saturated with exhaustion from it.  I want to be there, for you, and the only way I can be available to anyone when they need me I have to be available to myself.  It is absolutely crucial that I start to act like my actions in the present have influence on the future for myself and for those I love.  This isn't a telenovela... this is real life and I feel like it's time for me to stop taking myself for granted.

If I can keep my hands off the bottle, then good things will happen.  I am a naturally talented human being, it's a gift that I've taken for granted for too long.  I sit in a cubicle entering data... a job I could be doing without a High School Diploma.  My alcoholism has derailed my dream train so many times that I've lost all of my educational and professional experience equity.  I've destroyed and damaged relationships with expert precision.  I've abused my body so badly that I'm lucky to only have the health problems I do.  I am grateful to be alive and grateful to have all of the wonderful people in my life that I do.  It is inspiring to see the resilience and faith that the people around me have.  It  It's difficult sometimes to resist the urge to try and go "all in" to get as much back as I can as quickly as possible.  I'm afraid though, the journey back to the top of Tyler Mountain needs to be a long and methodical one, or I am sure to fall back to base camp again.   I cannot afford more setbacks.

I am what I do, my life begins today, just as it will tomorrow, and every day.  We all have an opportunity everyday to do right, to do good and to make the decisions, no matter how small, that we can be proud of.

Yesterday might be regrettable, but it doesn't have to be a loss if I take care of Today.  I have so much in my life to be grateful for that there isn't enough room for any sense of lasting loss or self-pity.  Hopefully a year from now I can look back on this period in my life and be proud of the way I've handled myself and the changes I have made.  I hope nothing but the best for all of you.  Life Counts... every single day.

Now... it's time to cheer for the Hawkeyes, eat some fucking Turkey and make someone's Day.

Good Luck, Out There,
Tyler

Day 66

As my 31's birthday rapidly approaches, it's time to take some inventory.  Time to purge... this shit is real, proceed with caution.

I am an alcoholic, I make no attempt to conceal it from anyone, I know it to be true, I have over a decade of proof.  My alcoholism does not define me but it is an inextricable part of who I am, I don't pity myself and I'm not ashamed to be an alcoholic.  What I am ashamed of is how I've managed my addiction the last 3 1/2 years.  I had over six years sober from 2000-2007 and then had a catastrophic relapse, from which, I've never fully recovered.  I just haven't been able to sink my teeth back into sobriety in a lasting and meaningful way, the way I remember it.  My life feels like a work of fiction, like I'm walking around in a movie, surely I can't be here again, how did I get here?

The last three years have been hard, and not just for me, it has been hard for everyone around me.  During my active addiction I would do everything I could to push people away, I would verbally and emotionally abuse people in a cruel and venomous way.  I have never, in my life, treated people I claim to love with such disrespect and selfishness.  It is entirely contrary to my nature, the last thing I want to do is hurt people.   The looks of horror, anger and sadness are now replaced by looks of apathy and pity.

I can feel the emotional distance between myself and my loved ones expanding.  The texts have gotten fewer and farther between, people's tone, message and body language has cooled off to a temperature just above freezing.  I do not harbor any resentments or ill will toward these people, I actually respect them for putting up walls, moving on with their lives and retracting that extended hand that was always there to help hold me up.  In this life we have you simply cannot afford to love someone more than they love themselves, you won't have any love leftover for yourself.  If you blindly devote yourself to a drunk you will end up nothing more than a sacrifice at the alter of the alcoholic.  As much as I'd like to play the pity card, I can't, it's just not true.  I cannot say that I'm being abandoned, being treated unfairly or that people are "giving up," because that isn't the case, if these people could have it their way everything would be fine between us.  They are responding to what I've done, if accountability for my sense of isolation falls on any one's shoulders, it falls squarely on mine.  Nobody should have to sit by helplessly as they watch someone they love slowly kill themselves... and since all of their best efforts have proven to be futile, there is only one way for these people to protect themselves and that is distance, a gradual unplugging of emotional connectedness.  I spent a lot of time and effort convincing everyone that this ship was sinking and to get the hell off of it while there was still time... really, that was an attempt on my part to avoid hurting them, for my own sake.  I was tired of having their pain on my conscience, so instead of choosing to stop hurting them, I chose to push people away.  If you gave me the choice to just pack my shit and leave this chaos behind me... I do that shit in a heartbeat, but it would only follow me where ever I went.  When I think back to the year I spent as a substance abuse counselor and look at my life through the most objective lenses I can muster, I know exactly what I would say to the people close to me, "You have to take care of yourself, it is hard to let someone go, but you have no choice... run like hell, it only gets worse."

It hurts, it hurts more than I can possibly describe.  When I allow my mind to soak in the tragedies of my life I seize up emotionally, I become catatonic, it all doesn't seem like it can be real.  I wake up in the middle of the night regularly halfway through a panic attack, sobbing and yelling.  There is real intense pain living inside of me, pain I do not want to acknowledge and certainly don't want you to know about.  After all, I'm Mr. Good Time Funny Guy, right?  I can't be desperate and lonely.  I can't be sad and terrified. I can't feel spiritually bankrupt and forsaken... can I?   The truth is I walk the line, everyday, between "total denial" and "complete despair."  I have no one to blame but myself, whatever I get, whatever opportunities I'm granted or consequences suffered, I did this... I did this to myself.  The mangled pieces of my life are all around me, I am a complete disaster.  I am a burden on the lives of people around me, nobody can rely on me or trust me... in fact, I've turned out to be the complete opposite of what I thought I was.  I always wanted to be someone that people could look up to and count on.  I still believe that there is a good man that lives inside this body and I do believe he still has a chance, but it's time to face the facts that my silver tongue and charming nature can only keep the consequences at bay for so long, before the house of cards comes crashing down.  My character is not measured by what I intended to do, but rather by what I've done.  I have very little to be proud of over the last 3 years and many, many regrets.  My smoke and mirrors routine works pretty well to keep the peripherals in the dark about my truth, and keeps me from spiraling into complete madness.  However, by hiding my internal reality, I appear glib and nonchalant to the people that know the truth... and in doing so, I further alienate them.

There isn't a thing I can say and nothing I can do to change what has happened.  All I can do now is salvage what I can and begin to rebuild.  I have been sober for 66 days today, it seems like an eternity since August 12th, 2010... the day I was arrested for OWI 3rd.  Oddly I felt a sense of relief when it happened, like, "at least this is finally over."  It really was only a matter of time before some catastrophe happened.  By the grace of God nobody was hurt.  I will certainly be spending at least 45 days in county jail... potentially up to a year or so.  It's not so much the time in jail that eats away at my foundation, but the time away from my family and friends... what if I'm gone for 9 months?  Who will still be here when I get out?  What will my life look like?  How many times can a guy start from scratch before he just says, "Fuck it, I don't have the resilience for this anymore?"  I don't know for sure... but I know that I don't have the strength in me to come down off the ledge if this happens again.

If this doesn't stop, this is certainly how my story will end.  I am scared, I am scared of myself... I'm scared that I can be as smart as I am and know what I know about myself and still make the choice to drink.  If you remove the alcohol from my past, 95% of my problems disappear.  It's maddening, it is full blown insane.  I want to rip my heart out and slam it down on the table, just to show you I still have one.  I want people to see that there is good that lives inside me,  I want to make amends, I want to repay my emotional debts. I would do absolutely anything to put my life back the way it was 3 years ago and make better choices, but I can't.  All I can do is the next right thing, the only things I have any reason to stress about are the things I can control... the rest of all that shit is someone else's problem.  I know I want sobriety, I know I don't want to drink, I will do anything, I will go to any length for this... even if I stay sober just out of spite.  I have the skills to mindfuck myself to the liquor store, you would think I'd have enough talent to mindfuck my way to Culver's instead.  I'm all in, bitch... and I haven't even looked at my cards.

I'm going to be 31 on Saturday and I'm about as emotionally mature as I was at 19.  I was an only child, I spent almost all of my childhood around adults, so I spent the first half of my life being more mature than everyone and the latter half being less mature than everyone.  Every time I slide back into a bottle it becomes sadder and sadder and sadder... I'm not a kid anymore.  I'm not a wayward youth.  I'm not someone who will, "grow out of it."  I am entering the realm of complete degenerate loser... the hopeless, the alone, the without, the lost.  Just a tarnished golden boy, with a bottle Scotch, blacking out the truth, wandering slowly alone down the road to nowhere.

If only life were like TiVo...

A very wise man said that to me not all that long ago, "Life Only Goes Forward," (Thank You, Mr. Hesson). Something that seems so, slap-me-in-the-face obvious often escapes me in my day to day life. It is easy for me to overlook because A) it's a truth that is a real buzz killer and B) It requires me to be accountable in the present. Personal accountability not associated with receiving compliments and major awards (think: scandalous leg lamp from "A Christmas Story") is always a bummer.

I've spent so much time looking for the fast-forward, rewind, pause and reset button on this life of mine that I neglect the precious moments that I'm currently living in, life is not a TiVo... I just need to let that dream die (I let the dream of having a Crocodile Tail die a while back, Life TiVo is a more resilient dream). Whenever I'm in a jam (when I think about being in "a jam" I always picture myself, neck deep, in raspberry preserves... it's a sticky situation *groan*) I spend way more time trying to avoid consequences by flapping my silver tongue than I do standing up and taking full responsibility for my actions. There is no way I can go back and change some of the incredibly unfortunate (See: stupid) decisions I've made and I can't say with a clear conscience that I would be smart enough to change them even if I could travel through time. I'm not a stupid man... but I do have a stupid little kid that lives inside me who always wants to be a troublemaker and wreak all sorts of havoc. He has a louder, more persuasive voice than you might think... and he's a real asshole.

I will always spend some time pining for past experiences or yearning for future glory. It is my goal to be vigilant in trying to limit the amount of time I choose to do these things. I am someone who always needs to be reminded that I am what I do, no more and no less. It is easy for me to get caught in fantasies about who I should be and completely disrespect who I am. "Less thought and more action" is a thought I need to have close to my consciousness all the time. Despite what I often think there is no more important single moment in my life than the one I am experiencing right now. It is the only one that I am promised... the moments passed are gone forever and the moments to come, might not.

Days can be long, but life advances, sometimes relentlessly, sometimes mercifully. How ever it advances one thing is certain, this life is the only one we are certain to have, and it is depressingly short. Much too short and valuable to spend it worrying about the things I've done that cannot be changed. I need to stop attempting to mend bridges that are damaged and work hard to build new ones. I don't mean to suggest that I should abandon the islands to which the damaged bridges lead, but sometimes the old bridge is crippled beyond repair, requiring a completely fresh build.

I have a fresh opportunity every morning to put together a string of hours in which I do right. Hours that I respect myself, hours that I can choose to spend smiling. The fact is that if I do my best to do the right things, or at the very least, not do the wrong things, in each moment then I won't need a Life TiVo. No matter how deep I dig there is always an opportunity to put the shovel down and start climbing.

Ma always told me... "There's only one way to eat an elephant, Ty." To be honest, I am really effing sick of eating all these elephants... but I am still hungry.

Mine is a Cactus.

I'm somebody who is perpetually maladaptive. My alcoholism excluded, I've always felt like a bit of an oddball. An oddball of the likable variety, not the kind that stacks his french fried in a pyramid prior to consumption. I've always had friends, a handful of which I'm sure I'll have for the entirety of my life. The others flow in and out like tides, I've always felt like someone would float in when necessary and fill the void that they left and for the most part, that has been the case. I'm sure someone floats into their lives and fills the gap that I had previously filled as well. Even in my most emotionally intimate relationships I've never really felt understood, I've always felt connected to the people in my life, but in my assessment no person has the capacity to fully take the position of the other. So, in that, I feel a bit alone, I'm not suggesting that I'm unique in this, just flopping it out there.

I don't feel horribly misunderstood. I've never had anyone hear my stories and look upon me like I was growing a second head or say something like, "You're certifiable, go directly to the nuthouse." I do somehow, always manage to convince myself that I can't be fully related to by anyone. My old counselor would call me an egomaniac for saying such a thing, claim that I was, "terminally unique" and subsequently laugh at me and shake her head a bit. She would be right, it is a bit egocentric to think that no one can relate to you. If they awarded badges in treatment like they do in the boy scouts the "Egocentric" badge (picture the silhouette of a guy wearing sunglasses with his fists up by his head, pointing his thumbs at himself, "this guy") would have been the first one I was awarded, the second would be, "Grandiosity," and the third, "Junior Counselor" (the staff sometimes called me "JC" just to piss me off and shut me up during group therapy... it worked like a charm). I'm not afraid to wear the egocentric badge on my lapel, (I do have a suit) I'm admittedly someone who thinks he's the star of the show. It's not so much that I really, cognitively, think that no one can relate to me... it's just a sense, it's just how I feel, and that, my friends, is an entirely different barrel of ducks.

When what I think and what I feel don't plug in it forces me to evaluate my beliefs... which is something I avoid like filing papers, putting the clean silverware away and changing the toilet paper. My beliefs serve as an extention cord with multiple adapters so that my thoughts and feeling can talk to each other... so they can exist in the same reality. When I can't build a proper circuit, my brain tries to divide by Zero and a fatal error occurs.

God helps here, I know it's a bit of a touchy subject, so I'll be brief. When I do a comprehensive inventory of my life, it is not hard to see that when my belief in God is thriving, my life is easier to live. When my faith is whithering, life is often satisfactory, but certainly less, predictable, for the lack of a better term.

Faith is like a long term emotional insurance policy, one that covers a multitude of things, desperation, fear, shame, rage and hoplessness just to name a few. When I haven't been paying my premiums God's Desperation Claim Service isn't able to cover the damages. Feel free to fill in the space I have filled with, "God," with whatever you choose. Based on my experiences, the little plant that lives inside me, that I choose to call a soul, needs to be maintained to remain healthy. If I don't regularly water and feed it, when I hit a low point in my life, whatever remains of the plant may not be strong enough to support me. I choose to pray, medidtate and write to incubate my plant. All of these things on their own during the course of one day don't seem like much of a big deal, but when they are added up over a long period of time they can keep a person like me alive and well, when the circumstances dictate that "alive and well" are things I should not be. They are all actions that feed my soul, the little piece of God that lives inside of me... My Plant.

A healthy plant can withstand ALL conditions. That is not to say that it can thrive, there can and will be some limbs down during the thunderstorms of life, but my plant never suffers more than it does from neglect.

With a solid plant I am emotionally and mentally self sufficient. When I have a green thumb for myself I have an internal sense of perpetual well being... I know that everything will always turn out OK. There is never a reason to panic when I have flourishing flora. I can stand alone, powerful and proud on the strength of my own spirit.

Cherry Poppin'

Life is not easy. It is not easy for anyone, it is a constant pursuit of things. I'll spare you a long essay on relativism and get to the meat, because everyone with a sense of real things, likes meat.

For me, I have been pursuing whole days without booze, with varied success. I have always had a hunch that alcoholism was going to be an issue for me, even prior my first drink. My mother used to talk about alcohol in a tone of real sincere caution... with a sprinkle of seething resentment. So from the time I was a boy I knew it was a bit of a forbidden fruit for me. (I recall some story or something about an apple and a garden and some whore that couldn't keep her hands off of it. There may have been a talking snake involved, but whether that was literally a talking snake or not isn't the most interesting part of that story... it's the nudity.) Anyway... my first drink came when I was 12 or 13, it was vodka that a buddy and I took out of my parents liquor cabinet, Popov was the brand, if I remember correctly. It was quite an exhilarating caper, we were like spies in some kind of after school special that was produced and directed by delinquent pre-teens. I remember setting up the TV downstairs so that there was just enough background noise so that it would drown out the socked feet on the floor but quiet enough so that I could hear someone coming. I had the buddy stationed to sound an alarm, it was a complicated plan and this is a portion I was sure he couldn't pull off, so thankfully (or perhaps, regrettably) it wasn't needed. I snuck into the kitchen, opened the cabinet door and locked my vision on the artifact. I had to reach over some bottles to get to it, I snaked my hand in and it found its grip on the neck of the tall glass bottle. As I delicately maneuvered the bottle out, with the intensity and concentration of a bomb diffuser, suddenly *clank*... I froze, the bottle had struck another. Panic is something I had felt in my life... but not here, steely I remained. I cleared the edge of the cabinet with the bottle and carefully handled my prize like a Faberge egg. I closed the door to the cabinet behind its escapee and we scurried off downstairs.

When we cracked it open and smelled it there was a justifiably objectionable recoil. Having been on a steady beverage diet of Mountain Dew and Surge (look it up), retrospectively, it makes sense that it would make us both shudder. We were not adults and for a litany of reasons, were not prepared for an adult beverage, let alone straight up at room temperature. Like most other kids determined to raise a ruckus of some sort we forged ahead. He took a swig and immediately spit it out... the flavor and bouquet did not meet our expectations of what we had assumed was the world's most coveted beverage. I drank from the bottle and felt its burn down my throat and in to my stomach. My lips were pleasantly numbed and my head started to whir in a way I had never experienced in my life. My face flushed slightly and there was a roar building in my ears, a lot like the one that is felt right before an orgasm. My whole awareness was dilated and somehow I just had a sense of well-being, like no matter what happens, I was going to be OK.

It was strange at the time that our reactions were so wildly different, but as I look back across my history of "drinking buddies" it has always been a different experience for me. I always felt at home when I put that bottle to my lips, to others it seemed to be a way to loosen up or get wild, for me it was a way to feel like I fit. I don't mean like, "fit in," in a social sense, more like fit, in this life. The world and all of its scary shit wasn't such a scary place, it was mine. I didn't feel helplessly outcast or strange, I felt like myself and that "myself" wasn't a bad thing anymore.

There was nothing negative about it... an overwhelming contrary was true. I had found something that nothing else could ever give me. I had found booze. I had found, My Home. Even knowing what I know now, I can't say with any measure of sincerity, that I wouldn't do the exact same thing again... except this time, those bottles wouldn't clank.