Best Show I Ever Saw

 (orig published Wednesday, April 7, 2010)

My wife Adrienne is good at making plans. I am not. This has worked out well for both of us, mostly. I spent most of 1979 transitioning from 14 to 15 years old. While I was going everywhere on my bicycle and learning how to shave with a razor, she was creating her life plan: Have children when young, then go back to school and get advanced degrees, ending up teaching college as a tenured professor. By 2006, the children were living independent lives and she had her Master's Degree. It was time. After much searching, she was accepted into the new Gerontology PhD program at Miami University, my alma mater.

Now was the hard part. Miami University was nearly a thousand miles away from our home in Shoreham, Vermont. And Adrienne had certain conditions she wanted fulfilled before starting the last leg of her journey: to not have to work full-time while studying, to live near her school, not be a long-distance learner, and to have me with her. These were big, scary conditions but I had always had complete faith in her. When she told me she wanted me to come with her, I said, "Sure."

Weird, Wild and Wonderful (Blind Boys of Alabama Transition) - final version?

Weird, Wild and Wonderful

(Blind Boys of Alabama Transition)

Weird, wild and wonderful – that was my supplication to a God I thought was listening and would answer my prayer as I stood on the hot football field at Norwalk Junior High School in 1983, waiting for my high school graduation ceremony to begin. Sweating under my graduation gown beneath the bright sun, I repeated my plea inside my over heated head, "Please God, I don't know what is going to happen next but let it be weird, wild and wonderful.”

That was my blueprint for the future. Not the most carefully laid out plan, but one that seemed doable. The last hurdles were laid in front of me - spending the summer working on the county road crews, then going off to Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. I had spent the first 18 years of my life in the same, safe house on Main Street where I knew every nook and cranny, from the slap-dashed painted garage in the back to all the unique noises the joists and floorboards made throughout the night. I was not so much bored but more like anxious to see what else was out there (whatever there turned out to be).

Five years later, I just barely graduated MU with a degree in English Education. I say just barely because the next time I checked, twenty years later when I returned to Oxford, my low GPA would have prevented me from graduating. Not like that diploma ever did anything other than serve as a receipt for 5 years of tuition. And like my last graduation, the one in 1983, my goal was simple: watch my previous home recede in the rear view mirror before leaping feet-first into the deep end of life. This time, moving to Vermont to "see what happens.” I would never admit the ugly truth — ugly because it barely hid my shame — to my family, the friends I had left, or even myself. Once my short-term job in the Green Mountains ended, I wasn't going back. I had no intention of returning to Ohio to teach middle school English like I had promised my parents.



Proof that the best laid plan of mice and men often go awry. In 2006, I returned to Ohio, with Adrienne, my wife, two dogs and two cats, so she could finish her education by earning a PhD from Miami University.

Not only were we moving to Ohio, but we were going to live in Oxford, Ohio, a place I had never left so much as escaped.

I never was much of a planner. To paraphrase a line from an old Vincent Price movie I barely remember watching early one morning late at night, “Man is like water, open a passage to the East and he flows east, open a passage to the West, he flows west.” That was me alright, restlessly waiting for the world to open a channel for me to pour through.

Vincent Price, Confessions of an Opium Addict

 Good Things about Being Home #1

(originally published March 24, 2010)

The pets were glad to see me. Olivia, the maddest cat in southwest Ohio, has not let me leave her sight since I got home from The Jewish Hospital on Tuesday night. Eloise, the monster dog, dashed around the yard in a paroxysm of joy, pausing to drop her big head in my lap for pets every few circuits. Frannie, our blind cocker spaniel — if God created anything cuter than cocker spaniels, he kept it for himself; tracked me by sound and scent wherever I laboriously moved around the house, her collar tags jangling, her funny little snuffle announcing her arrival. Of course Thor, the Fat Bastard in feline form, just gave me his half-lidded "Oh, were you gone?" look and went about his business.

Good Things About Being Home #1 (Transition piece)

 Good Things About Being Home #1

(Transition piece)

When we first arrived in Ohio in 2006, I had no job and no plan — which will surprise no one who has been paying attention. To support myself, I was a substitute teacher for several school districts, so I spent most days driving from Oxford to Cincinnati, Eaton, and even west into Indiana. As a traveling sub, the work took me to urban schools and rural ones, wealthy districts and poor ones — a cross-section of southwestern Ohio I never would have seen otherwise.

Introduction to a book I will never write - Warm Bodies (2013)

Introduction

Early spring of 2013, I was sitting in a movie theater and as the lights came up, tears began running down my face. I didn’t know why, but the film we just watched had reached into a place I didn’t know needed touching.

I got asked to make a video

Freedom Through Recovery, a local sobriety community asked me to make a video about What Recovery Means to Me. 

 

Five Year Update - The Words of My Mouth

Well, heck, it has been a while. I am fine. Really, things are good. We moved to Georgia, I got sober, went back to school and now work in IT for the local school district.

God has been good.

Recently we have been attending the local Unitarian Universalist Church. Last Sunday's service was devoted to discussion about Christianity and I spoke. Being able to address the congregation was a wonderful experience, but what was truly amazing was the process of putting into words things that I had never said before. Here is  what I said:

Five Years Ago today (March 19th, 2010)

 I didn't know what I had until it was gone.

Thank you, dear Creator, my Higher Power, God, Lord and Savior for giving me back my life.

Dear CIDP, a letter to my illness

Dear CIDP, Usually, when I think about what I would say to you if you were a person, it usually involves some anger-fueled profanity. But today, it is with gratitude that I think of you.

 "you probably think that I hold resentment for you
But uh uh, oh no, you're wrong
 'Cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do,
 I wouldn't know Just how capable I am to pull through
So I wanna say thank you
'Cause it:
 Makes me that much stronger
Makes me work a little bit harder
It makes me that much wiser
So thanks for making me a fighter
Made me learn a little bit faster
Made my skin a little bit thicker
Makes me that much smarter
So thanks for making me a fighter"
(Yes, I know this is Christina Aguilera, but we have lots of stuff in common.)

March 19, 2014

To celebrate the four years that have passed since I got sick and went into the hospital I

-practiced standing unassisted on rocking boat in the ocean

-rented a bike and pedaled around the island of Key West.

-thanked God for doing for  me what I couldn't do for myself.

-thanked Him again for the people who held me up and for the ones that loved me when I couldn't.

Six Months

I got my six month chip today.  To celebrate, I am doing a Cut and Paste Blog:

Famous Beer Quotes!

Beer and the quotes it has helped create over the years...
I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the
morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day.
-Frank Sinatra
The problem with some people is that when they aren't drunk, they're sober.
-William Butler Yeats
An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools.
-Ernest Hemingway
Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.
-Ernest Hemingway
You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on.
-Dean Martin
Drunk is feeling sophisticated when you can't say it.
-Anonymous
No animal ever invented anything as bad as drunkenness - or as good as drink.
-G.K. Chesterton
Time is never wasted when you're wasted all the time.
-Catherine Zandonella
Abstainer: a weak person who yields to the temptation of denying himself a pleasure.
-Ambrose more...

source: http://www.jokebuddha.com/Sober#ixzz2ROjom9y7

Sunday Gratitude

In the last week I washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the edges, moved a bunch of dirt, built another garden box and moved it, dusted the house and swept the floors.

I've been so busy trying to get this stuff done that I forgot it wasn't that long ago I couldn't do them.

The bill for this physical activity has been coming at night, when the cramps and spasms.  Poor Adrienne, the other night she woke up to me pleading, "Help me!"

It is easy to think that being pain-free is a right, when it is really a privilege.    Same for mowing the lawn and the other things I mentioned in the first paragraph.  I love that I can do these things, including having a rough, painful night without narcotics.

I feel so good right now.

1097

...days since I last worked.

On the plus side, I am feeling much better now, thank you.

Three years ago (yesterday) was the last time I worked and the first time I was hospitalized with CIDP.  I hardly think about those days any longer, other than to be grateful they are behind me.

I celebrated by buying some clothes online this morning.  Because, evidently, it has been more than three years since I bought any new clothes.

Did I mention I have begun looking for work?

Can't sleep

I just had the craziest dream. I was 13 years-old and in seventh grade, in English class with some friends of mine-a couple I know from the program. We were not liked by the teacher, she stuck us up in a corner behind some things to isolate us from the class. We tried our best to keep up with the class. I knew this stuff for some reason already.

The teacher forgot to give us the same worksheet that the rest of the class was working on. Since we didn't know her name, I went to the front of the class to ask her for copies of the work. As I walked forward, I started to grow up. By the time I was close enough to talk to her, I was ready to take over the class. Mainly because one thing I know how to do is keep a roomful of seventh graders quiet and in their seats.

Weird, huh?

Anyway, I have been even more lax in writing than usual lately. Here are some pertinent points:

Passed my 90 day mark. 90 days is significant because now we start counting months of sobriety, days no longer.

On the eve of my ninetieth day I was on the floor of the emergency room bathroom throwing up from the pain of a kidney stone. At around 10 I got to see the doctor and explained to him that I was an addict in recovery, so no narcotics for me. They gave me this stuff called Toredal, a “super” anti-inflamatory.

It didn't work.

The effect was like setting fire to a book of matches then trying to put it out with spit..

Even though the pain was horrible, I was worried about compromising my sobriety. I have a problem with narcotics and was afraid to go back into that room. By 3 am, after five hours of struggling with the pain, I was exhausted. I could also feel I was starting to panic: it was getting harder to breath and I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. “Fuck it,” I thought, “They make white chips (to start or restart your sobriety) everyday.”

So I literally begged the ER doctor for something stronger.  They gave me a shot of Dilaudid and admitted me.  

While in the hospital I turned in a job application for an assistant librarian position here in town (my dream job).  But yes, I think I am ready to find some work.  

BTW I called my sponsor first thing the next morning.  He was very reassuring  as long as I am under a doctor's care, I did not break my sobriety.

Pretty good vacation

I am doing this in the back of a moving car, on my phone so it is not going to be pretty. 

We are taking Matt and Mercedes to the airport for their trip back to Vermont.  Their 10 day visit was really good and all concerned are sad to see it end. 

Last night Matt told us that he is seriously considering accepting our offer to move in with us.  That would be awesome.  I am sure part of that is because he wants to use the amazing workshop he created in the garage.

Picture to follow of that. 

We spent the Christmas Eve and Day hunkered down in our grinch cave, wishing that time would pass faster.  Gratefully, there were meetings for us to attend. 

But when Matt and Mercedes showed up, it really felt like Christmas.  That feeling continued throughout their visit because everyday we got to open a present.

60 Days

There has been much that I have learned in the last 60 days, but I am still having trouble organizing my thoughts.

I guess the biggest thing I have learned is that "My worst day clean and sober is better than my best day using" is not such a cliche after all.  I had a shit ton of great times being high and doing cool stuff.  But, even at the very best of those times, I knew my search for the BBB would begin again.

BBB stands for Bigger, Better Buzz.  Even my best times, what ever they were, I was worrying about the good feeling ending and what I could do to prolong it, recreate it or make it better.

I am glad to be free of that.  It is freeing to be here, now and not thinking about what I need to put into my body to improve this moment or make future ones better.

The other day I found a picture of Eloise as a puppy.  Her ears are sticking up and she has this really goofy grin on her face..At the bottom, I wrote  "Right this moment, I am happy."

Eloise is my personal clown-dog

Sobriety doesn't always make me happy, but it does give me what I need when I need it, which is only in this moment.

30 Days

30 days since my last drug.  Woo Hoo!

The 5,6,7,8s were probably one of the best rock and roll bands EVER

I had been trying for days to remember what we did for Thanksgiving last year (or Christmas, but maybe it will come to me).  I didn't know if we stayed here, were someplace else or what.  

Yesterday was Thanksgiving and I was grateful to be sober.This is not the life I saw for myself.

The Best is Yet to Come

I got this  in my inbox today:

" Shame and guilt left unaddressed can paralyze us, preventing us from moving forward in our lives. Some of the most meaningful amends we can make for the mistakes of our past are made simply by acting differently today. We strive for improvement and measure our success by comparing who we used to be with who we are now.
Being human, we will continue making mistakes; however, we need not make the same ones over and over again. By looking over our past and realizing that we have changed and grown, we’ll find hope for the future. The best is yet to come."

Copyright © 1991-2012 by Narcotics Anonymous World Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved

The less I try to make things fit into my preconceptions, the more they make sense.

Two things that people often tell me are that I have low self esteem and that I make things too hard for myself.  So, when I saw that the next group was going to be on shame and guilt, I prepared myself for a grim and fruitless struggle with my guilty conscience knowing I would never be free from the bondage of my shame.

When I think about my shame and guilt, it is through a  lens of what (I think) a healthy, normal person would have done, not someone with the disease of addiction.  That is how sneaky it is; we addicts are more comfortable seeing ourselves as mean spirited, lying, manipulating, stealing, evil minded selfish monsters than admitting we are sick people.  People who, if we were in our right minds, would never have done the messed up stuff we did while in our addiction's sway.

And it was our loved ones that got the worst of it; their love and trust was a great resource for helping feed our addictions.  But that addiction is an illness.  Instead of attacking  on a cellular level like other illnesses, addiction clouds our judgement and makes us susceptible to making bad choices.


Emotions like guilt and shame are useful only because they warn us that other people can have real consequences of our behavior. In order to stop me from hurting other people, I built a jail and lined the walls with my shame and guilt.


Our facilitator asked if, since we got clean, were we still doing shameful things?  I can honestly say that in the last 24 days, I have not. I did those shameful things because I am sick, not because I am a bad person.  I am a pretty decent fellow, capable of loving and being loved, respecting of others and worthy of their respect.

Alcoholics and addicts in recovery strive to change their behavior first, then their thinking.  Next, we are urged to "clean house" by examining our old bvehavior, especially those behaviors that affected others and making amends to them.

I have been sick for a long time, not just the last few years.  My drinking and drug use has always been irresponsible since I was 19 (the drinking age in Ohio in 1983).  One of the things that has motivated me these last 3 weeks is that I have 20 years of amends to make.

In movides and TV,when ever some goes into recovery from addiction, they immediately begin to make a series of awkward and insincere amends.  They are apologies are for their benefit only,  "I don't want you to be angry at me any longer." or their amends are simply thinly disguised resentments.

Right now, I am working to get better.  Until then, I won't be able to process and appreciate my responsibility in my actions.  Only then, will I feel worthy of asking you for forgiveness.

Until then, every day that I don't use, I get stronger and my disease gets weaker.

Lost

"No one's ever lost forever

When they die they go away

But they will visit you occasionally

Do not be afraid

No one's ever lost forever

They are caught inside your heart

If you garden them and water them

They make you what you are"

from the song "Lost" by Amanda Palmer and the Grand THeft ORchestra from the album Theater is Evil