Tyler. I need you.

Do you ever take a look at yourself and the things you're feeling and think, "what is the matter here?  Who is this person?"

I wonder exactly how intimidated I would be if the "Best Version of Tyler J" burst through my bedroom door with his command and presence and saw what was going on with this wounded human being.  I would be mortified and ashamed of how he would see me and terrified of the things I was about to hear.  At the very least he would listen with compassion and then vigorously talk some sense into me and at the most he would beat the shit out of me.  Either way, I'm scared of that man, because he would say all of the things I didn't want to hear and I would know they were all true.  Obviously he doesn't want to hurt me at least not without a purpose.  Sometimes that's what it takes to heal, sometimes you've got to slice open a hand to get the thorn out.  Scar tissue is always better than infection.

One thing is for sure, I need that guy, I need him now.  I want what he has, this is not me... I'd rather go down the drain than circle any longer.  It's been 170 days since my last drink and that's the 2nd longest time in my life since I started.  What ever is different now has brought a good to my life that the previous didn't allow.  I don't want to walk backward to the life I had, that was a life that stopped being worth living in 2009.  I'm just flooded with emotion, love, hate, peace, chaos, faith, fear... I am over capacity.  It's rushing over the spillway.

So... what would he say?

"Hey man, I'm not here to tell you that your life doesn't suck right now, it does.  If you really want to be happy again being such a pussy isn't going to make it happen any faster.  You literally have nothing to gain by feeding your misery except more misery.  Remember that shit from treatment about whichever wolf you feed gets stronger?  Well, you'd be better off feeding yourself than those bastard wolves, both of them seem to get you into trouble.  In real life you don't get extra credit for beating the shit out of yourself... this isn't a Lifetime Movie.  You pretend like you don't know which part of the serenity prayer is most important right now and that's just an excuse to wallow.  I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that I'm not a coward, that I can handle life with grace, that I don't live in fear... I can't say any of those things about you.

That cavern that lives in your chest is not something you can fill overnight and it's possible that you'll always have a hole there.  Face it, that's a big fucking hole.  I know losing Ma was hard, I know that we'll never get over it, but we don't have to smash everything she wanted for us for no reason.  Or, even worse, a stupid reason.  Losing Ma and Elizabeth in the same year was hard, Megan filled the hole left by both of those losses and now she's gone too and the hole is even bigger than it was before.  This is the price you pay for ignoring your pain.  This is the price you pay for putting a band aid on it.  If you continue down this road you're going to drink again.  It's only a matter of time, you're a time bomb and the next time that fuse reaches the explosive we're dead.  How many more times do you think you can make it out of the hospital?  How many more relationships do you need to destroy?  You were sober for six years, you know what to do... what are you waiting for?  You forget how many addicts that are dead having done less than you have, you're alive for a reason.  Stop covering your eyes and look for that reason.

You've done some good the last three years.  You've been generous, you've been kind, you've sacrificed, they weren't a total waste.  That good is dwarfed by the good you've done in the last 170 days.  When I tell you that if you don't drink good things happen, it's the truth.  Look at all the shit we did those six years and without much effort.  You've done some evil also, the wake of horror behind you is impossible to ignore, but you can make it valuable if you remember it and forgive yourself.

You have what it takes, actually, you've got a lot more than it takes.  Look at ME, take a good look... this is who you are.  Now go look in the mirror and tell me you're happy with what's looking back at you.  That guy is bad for us, that guy will put you in the ground long before you're supposed to be there.  You feel like you don't have anything to offer?  You feel like you will never deserve good things again?  You feel like you don't deserve to be loved?  You feel like you don't have anything to believe in?  LOOK at me... if you don't believe in yourself, if you can't find something to believe in, fucking believe in me.  I am formidable, I have presence, I love who I am and you should also.  There isn't a single thing in the world I don't have the confidence to face.  This man that you are now hates who he is and can't even face himself.  You haven't made eye contact with me since I walked in, who have you become?  I have everything I want, you know what that is?  If you say what I think you're going to say I'm leaving.  What we want is happiness.  Not control.  Not women.  Not money.  Being happy is all this whole thing is about, there is no other reason to live.  If you lose hope that you'll be happy again you really don't have anything to live for.  You've got to find a way, and you've GOT to do it right fucking now.

You were not deserted and abandoned, the people that are gone are refugees not villains.  You're not going to be rescued, nobody is going to swoop in and take all of this pain away from you.  You are not a victim and self pity will kill you.  We don't have the luxury to feel sorry for ourselves.  What you're doing isn't grief, it's hate, it's abuse.  You are responsible for putting yourself here and forcing people out of your life.  It's your responsibility to clean this shit up.

Pour your heart, never ignore it, the more you pour the fuller it becomes.  Always believe what that thing pounding in your chest is telling you, you would be a damn fool to ignore it any longer.  Do what you feel like you need to do to take care of yourself, but don't ever forget, people are lucky as fuck to have us in their life and if they disagree... they don't know you as well as they think they do.

I'm coming back in one year and if you're still here, I'll pull the fucking trigger myself."

Yikes... I told you I was afraid of him.


What about you?
What would the best version of you say? 
Is this the best version?
Are you less than you could be? 
Where are your shortcomings? 
Where have you been lazy? 
Where have you been cold? 
Where have you been unplugged? 
Where have you slipped?
Where have you cheated yourself?
When will the collection agencies start calling to collect on all that emotional debt you've been charging?
Are you living in a movie?
You know who it is that you need... and if that person burst through your door how would you feel?
Could you look them in the eye knowing you're living your best possible life?
They are the only person on Earth who can help you.
They are the only person on Earth you know won't leave you behind.
Sooner or later reality is coming.

Hope you're ready.

Anger

I seem to shine without an ounce of effort.  Probably the most psychologically damaging attitude I've developed is a sense of talent, somehow being, "special."  I know I know... we're all special, we're all winners and we all get picked by a team to play kickball.  The truth is, if everyone is special, it's no longer special to be special, it's very average to be special these days.  I don't want to play kickball with you assholes anyway.  The resulting adult reality I've been living in all this time believing I was special gives my irrational mind license to feel wronged, hurt and cheated.  All of those feelings emerge in the form of anger for me.

The ability to allow myself to feel anger reveals both incredible psychological pathology but also an awareness and willingness to evolve.  I've been sick... very sick, I've been living in a room where no one but me is allowed.  The door is locked and barricaded, I'm slowly removing the rocks from the door, it's a painful endeavor.  I keep sending invites to people and then when they show up I tell them to fuck off.  It's like I've been begging for more reasons to hate myself, as if I haven't been an expert at finding them inside me without your help.  What I'm doing now is gradually making myself vulnerable again, there are lots of internal arguments happening as I robotically move things out of the way so someone else might be able to come in.

What a scary thing for me to feel.  It's such a hard thing for me to do, to embrace my anger, even if it's natural, even if it's healthy, I rage internally, I feel like  throwing a full blown tantrum.  I feel like if I feed it it will boil over and I will self destruct.  When people walk out of my life, whether they do it because of me, for themselves or both, if I let it happen, I am consumed by anger.  When I express it, I feel like a piece of shit, when I pretend like I'm not angry I become saturated with resentment.  Either way, it doesn't leave a lot of room to make that person anything more than an enemy.  There is no greater fertilizer for Hate than my anger.  Everyone that has ever loved me, loved me more than I ever have loved myself, that pendulum is shifting, and shifting quickly.  Call bullshit if you want to, I don't really give a shit what you think about it, you don't know me, you don't know what happens inside of me... you will never know, just like I'll never experience your reality.  I would suggest there are few people on the world who can stand up and take his beating with a better attitude than I can.  I don't want to run, I don't want to hide... I want to change and finding enough courage to take those steps is an exhausting exercise.

It was my belief, whether you think it or not, that I would never be good enough, not for you, not for me, not for anyone.  Do you know what it feels like to hate who you are?  Have you ever had a period in your life where it was painful and nauseating to look in the mirror?  Do you know what it feels like to believe that you're the greatest waste of talent and opportunity in the history of the universe?  Do you know what it feels like to be handed the keys to a wonderful life, spit on the keys, toss them in the river and choose misery?  Over and over and over again?  My whole life has been that way.  Constantly judging myself, always feeling like I should be more or have done more than I have.  No matter what level of success I've enjoyed in any area of my life it always feels like it wasn't not enough, not enough for me, not enough for anyone.  When I was successful at something my mind redefined the word, "Success" to orient my self image in a way so I could look down on myself.  I built this castle on the salt pillars of grandiosity and narcissism.  Part of my problem was I wanted to be powerful without being empowered.

There are people in my life that are really enjoying my deterioration... like it's some kind of cosmic justice.  I'm not without enemies.  I just wish someone could try my shoes on for a week and get back to me.  It's hard to find perspective when it's impossible for another person to have the same experience and evaluate it with the same inputs.  I only have 3 options, keep pointing my hate guns at myself, turn them around and start raining hate napalm on you, or holster them altogether.  It may come easy for some, but the task of resisting the urge to serve a banquet of cold revenge is one of the hardest things for me to do.  Wrath has been line item 1 in every 4th step I've ever done, it's a cornerstone of my pathology.  It's my responsibility to give these feelings a voice without giving them access to the nuclear silos.  I'm looking hard for the courage to drop the heavy artillery, to just let my old life die.  As a wise man told me, "I can't figure out why you would want to hold onto anything from that part of your life."  I've already spent too much time sitting in the hospital room alone, in shock, holding the hand of a dead life... feeling it turn cold.  It's time to get up and get the fuck out of this hospital.  There's not going to be any fanfare or a ceremony.  It's hard to say goodbye, but it's necessary if I'm ever going to say hello again.

Denial is an incredible thing.  Observations are washed away with contradictory promises, and I hold tight to them because the truth is too much to handle.  I recently said to someone, without much hesitation, "I'm never going to give anyone this much power again."  What did that really mean?  It meant I was being a hurt, pathetic, fearful bitch.  It meant I was going to take my ball and go home.  The truth, for me at least, is that if I can't find the capacity to vulnerably love, completely and openly in a way I've never done before, I'll be no more than a walking corpse.  Life is hard in a couple but it's hard alone too.  Personal growth under the umbrella of Independence is possible with someone or alone, it's also possible to not evolve as a person whether you're alone or coupled.  Personal growth is possible at all times, no matter what your circumstances.
 
I have the blessing of being silver tongued and compelling, with that comes the ability to strike people's weak spots with precision and lethality.  I am equally adept at making enemies as I am friends.  I am a good human being... I don't want to be a person who burns bridges and hurts people.  Fucking Alcoholism... I hate you.

I am not Evil and I'm not a Coward.

Probably no one has ever been so excited to go to jail, it's not a cell... it's an evolution chamber.  There will be no one that has ever been more determined when they emerge.  I have a new outlook, new hopes and a new perspective on why these things all happened and what they really mean for my future.  It's possible that there isn't anything that can be repaired, but that does not mean that those things can't be demolished and rebuilt.  Some things are worth fighting for and rebuilding some things are not.  It is up to me to determine what falls in what category... and so far, I'm off to a good start.

Blogosphere and Bloggo Dos

Actually, it's not so much a sphere as it is a giant river of sewage, sour milk and HIV that flows eternally in a figure eight.

There are something like 200 million blogs.  Think about that, that's 2 Mexicos!  That like if no one in the world had a blog except everyone in Mexico and each Mexican had two.  Think of all the Telenovela blogs and blogs dedicated to churros, propeller hats and Shakira (literally everything I know about Mexico I learned from Univision).  No matter who is churning out the content, when you have that many blogs there's a lot of just horrifyingly unnecessary thought barf to sift through to find something worth reading.  That's about 198.5 million people who think they're interesting enough that someone might give a dick (citation needed) about their philosophies and experiences, 500k or so that are just bored, 950k who are just miserable and desperate for attention, 49,999 who have some talent and then there's me.  I'm a hybrid of all of the above.  The trouble with that is I'm wildly unfocused, instead of being a great writer with continuity I'm like six average writers all in one and they all hate each other.  My brain is like a bee hive the size of an SUV full of fluttering butterflies, buzzing bees and whimsy.  Now picture that bee hive hanging off of a bridge over troubled water... and the bee hive has terminal cancer and a tape worm.

So... in an effort to further pollute and disrespect the universe of art and creativity I'm going to open a second blog called, (insert creative and pretentious blog name here), that will be used for light hearted whimsical funny stuff and negative, hateful and dastardly diatribes about this or that, people seem to really like it when I make fun of them, so I'll do my best to keep that up.  This blog will remain as it stands and will be more focused on things associated with its title.  It won't always be a heartbreaking tear jerker, but there will, no doubt be plenty of that.  "Memoirs of a sick addict" should really include more journaling and thoughts about my life and experiences.  This is really just an effort to focus myself creatively, so I can pump out more content in writing instead of just letting it evaporate out of my ears to be lost forever.

Long story short, because I'm an emotionally overwhelmed, scatterbrained jerk-off I'm going to have 2 blogs... and that's really because I don't just think I'M interesting I think I'm twice as interesting as I did before.

Kissy Kissy,
Tyler

Jail Update

This is all kind of just a big pain in the ass... that seems to want to last forever.  Like with most everything that ever happens though, you can choose how you handle it.

I had thought there was a chance I would have cuffs slapped on today and I would begin my (likely) 300day sentence in the dumpy asshole of Wisconsin that is Waukesha, (I cannot think of a place on Earth I would like to be less).  Well, that's not what happened.  I really don't want my life to remain stalled for much longer as a result of this, so I'm going to begin looking for work of some type and continue to work diligently on myself.  Certainly it involves getting out of the house as much as possible and fostering new relationships.

The whole issue is that the DA offered 300 days with a 50 day reduction based on my completion of the majority of a treatment program.  I haven't fulfilled enough of it to qualify and if I plead today I would have to go directly to jail, without passing go.  So a trial date was set for April and I have until then to do the best I can with the time I have and not go insane.  Without any doubt at all, at that time I will have to go to jail for 250 days.  Seems like a lot... but it certainly could have been worse and I clearly deserve every moment I spend in there. 

It is important that I stop dabbling in a dead life and start building a new one.  If I'm not making progress everyday towards something meaningful, I may as well be in jail right now.

The support I've received has been remarkable.

Thank you all so much.
Tyler