I haven’t drank or drugged in one year 24 days, and that is a friggin miracle. No it isn’t. It isn’t a miracle. It’s the result of a series of miracles. More than I can name, count, or probably even realize. Last night God used two wonderful friends of mine to save me in a moment of certifiable insanity. I’m really not sure which is the bigger miracle…that they care so much or that I actually stopped in the midst of Hurricane Pain and listened to them.
Andrew overdosed last night. Planned it. Checked himself out of rehab, searched out enough junk to throw a party with and shot it into his body. He didn’t even say goodbye. But as angry as I am with him right now, and I am, I understand. When you’re hurting the way he was, you can’t think of anyone else but yourself. Hell, I can remember in my letter to my wife I wrote as the pills I took trying to kill myself in 99 took effect that I said she’d be better off with me dead. I felt everyone would be. I strongly suspect that Andrew felt the same.
But when C. told me the news, I lost it. Instant insanity. And of course, in case there was any doubt that I am still sick, my first thought was…Baccardi. Thankfully, the bartender, who knows me well, refused to serve me. JD quickly said we could leave and refused to give me any of her drink. I agreed to leave for three reasons. One, I didn’t really feel much like shooting pool any more. Two, I didn’t really feel like breaking down in a sobbing mess in the middle of a pool/dance hall full of people. Finally, I knew if I left before closing I could make it to a store before time to purchase alcohol expired.
Yeah, that last one isn’t a very good reason I know, but it was what I was thinking. Didn’t happen though. JD and I talked in the parking lot a few minutes until I could pull myself together enough to drive. She may not have realized I was doing it, but I prayed like it was the last thing I was ever going to do. Guess it could have been, but God heard my prayer. Helped me to listen. To remember that I have people that care about me. To think about the fact that if I followed Andrew back into the Enchanted Forrest and died there I’d be doing to everyone I claim to care about the very same thing Andrew did to me. What I have tried to do to loved ones before. What I hurt over so much because of the many who have done it to me.
I don’t want that today. I don’t need to search for the unholy grail of oblivion. She’s as easy to find as a spider web in the dark and as hard to escape from. I lived the life of the fly struggling against that web too many years. Only the grace of God saved me from the spider and set me free. I can’t willingly and or purposefully fly back into it. But I almost did.
Last night served as a reminder that I must remain vigilant. Must be on guard. Because when I hurt, my first instinct is make it stop, NOW, no matter what. Even death fails to frighten me enough to deter me from the possibility of escape. But if I can pause, take a mental step back and ask for help, God always has another way of escape. A better, even if slower way. Some things are supposed to hurt. To feel nothing at the loss of someone I love is not a blessing. It’s inhuman. We were made to feel. In order to feel and experience the good in the fullest way, we must also be able to feel the bad. You can’t experience love without risking pain, but it’s worth it. I can’t appreciate the good times if I refuse to experience the not so good or even the horrible. I remember that today, but last night….
It seems that while under normal circumstances I can work at being able to do what I need to do to do the next right thing and stay clean and sober. But even after a year clean and sober there are plenty of times that I still need God to do for me what I can not do for myself. And He will…if I will let Him.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Trouble
Time to be rigorously honest. I’ve been wanting to write an update for a few days now, but have been unsure how to express what I’m feeling and thinking. It’s difficult for me to say how I’m feeling without sounding like I’m whining. I hate whiners and so don’t want to contribute to the whine quotient in the universe. But the fact is simply this…I’m in trouble. Big time.
I don’t want to drink or drug. But for the first time in a long while, I simply don’t care most of the time if I live or die. And the rest of the time? I lust for death as though he were as attractive as Brad Pitt. That life worth living that I have found such comfort in? Not really seeing that right now. Damn sure not feeling it.
Now don’t get me wrong, I know that not everything I think nor everything I feel is necessarily true. But it’s still how I feel. And I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve done everything I can think of. I have struggled to continued to do my best to do the next right thing. I have prayed and prayed and prayed some more. I have thrown myself into helping others, which by the way has provided the only relief I have found and helped greatly. But minutes after I am done…it all comes back. The second I get still, get quiet, I break down. I fall apart. I am broken inside.
For the first time in about nine months I uttered the phrase that’s what I get for hoping today. I felt such gratitude not long ago for having hope. When I did my personal inventory originally, hope was one of my top three fears. That fear was removed. God gave me hope. Getting clean and sober gave me hope. And I still have some of that today, right now as I write this. But there is one thing I have become utterly hopeless concerning. And the weight of that one thing is about to drown me. I don’t remember ever hurting this bad because in the past if I ever even began to feel a hint of this range of inner pain I did everything I could to kill it, numb it, distract myself from it. Ah…the sweet bliss of oblivion calls. No, I don’t have a desire to drink or use. But to not feel this way? Damn skippy. Something has to change and soon. I can’t take much more of this. I am ready to die. I would rather die than to continue to live and feel this way. And if I’m ready to die…I feel my resolve to die sober fading.
So what is it keeping me sober today? Helping other alcoholics and addicts. Since that has become my drug of choice, the only way I know to change the way I feel without killing myself I have to stay clean. Why? Because I can’t help anyone else if I surrender to the beast again. Today it is enough. Tomorrow? Probably. A week from now? If nothing else changes I seriously doubt it. God help me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go on like this. The misery I had before was about to kill me, but I came to believe that if I got sober and clean I would find relief. I would be freed from my misery. But this misery has nothing to do with anything like that. There’s nothing I can do to change anything. There is nothing I can quit or do. There’s no change or relief in sight no matter how much I do the right thing or what I try.
I have been told that if I focus on the problem the problem will get bigger and if I focus on the solution the solution will get better. Sounds true. The problem is you can’t focus on the solution if you have no idea what the solution is. I have asked people, sought advice, done all the research I can think of. I simply have no idea what the solution is or what to do. No one else seems to either. If it’s in the 164, I can’t find it. I’ll keep looking…for a while. But I can only hurt for so long before I have to do something different.
I don’t want to drink or drug. But for the first time in a long while, I simply don’t care most of the time if I live or die. And the rest of the time? I lust for death as though he were as attractive as Brad Pitt. That life worth living that I have found such comfort in? Not really seeing that right now. Damn sure not feeling it.
Now don’t get me wrong, I know that not everything I think nor everything I feel is necessarily true. But it’s still how I feel. And I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve done everything I can think of. I have struggled to continued to do my best to do the next right thing. I have prayed and prayed and prayed some more. I have thrown myself into helping others, which by the way has provided the only relief I have found and helped greatly. But minutes after I am done…it all comes back. The second I get still, get quiet, I break down. I fall apart. I am broken inside.
For the first time in about nine months I uttered the phrase that’s what I get for hoping today. I felt such gratitude not long ago for having hope. When I did my personal inventory originally, hope was one of my top three fears. That fear was removed. God gave me hope. Getting clean and sober gave me hope. And I still have some of that today, right now as I write this. But there is one thing I have become utterly hopeless concerning. And the weight of that one thing is about to drown me. I don’t remember ever hurting this bad because in the past if I ever even began to feel a hint of this range of inner pain I did everything I could to kill it, numb it, distract myself from it. Ah…the sweet bliss of oblivion calls. No, I don’t have a desire to drink or use. But to not feel this way? Damn skippy. Something has to change and soon. I can’t take much more of this. I am ready to die. I would rather die than to continue to live and feel this way. And if I’m ready to die…I feel my resolve to die sober fading.
So what is it keeping me sober today? Helping other alcoholics and addicts. Since that has become my drug of choice, the only way I know to change the way I feel without killing myself I have to stay clean. Why? Because I can’t help anyone else if I surrender to the beast again. Today it is enough. Tomorrow? Probably. A week from now? If nothing else changes I seriously doubt it. God help me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go on like this. The misery I had before was about to kill me, but I came to believe that if I got sober and clean I would find relief. I would be freed from my misery. But this misery has nothing to do with anything like that. There’s nothing I can do to change anything. There is nothing I can quit or do. There’s no change or relief in sight no matter how much I do the right thing or what I try.
I have been told that if I focus on the problem the problem will get bigger and if I focus on the solution the solution will get better. Sounds true. The problem is you can’t focus on the solution if you have no idea what the solution is. I have asked people, sought advice, done all the research I can think of. I simply have no idea what the solution is or what to do. No one else seems to either. If it’s in the 164, I can’t find it. I’ll keep looking…for a while. But I can only hurt for so long before I have to do something different.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Average day - good, bad, and choices delayed
A strange start to the day. R. showed up again for the second time in the middle of the night. My clock let me know it was 1:22 AM to be precise. And like the last time he showed up, a few months ago, he stood on my porch staggering drunk. He wanted me to drive to Houston with him. Not hardly. I wasn’t even going to let him inside, but to be honest, the ride to H-town held more temptation. That’s where A. is
But I didn’t go. He accused me of throwing walls up towards him every time, but that may be because he only shows up once in a blue moon, drunk, wanting something. I never see him any other time. That’s not my idea of a good situation for me. He asked if I still go to the 12-step group I attend. I answered yes. He then said he should probably go, but he didn’t want to because they don’t understand him there. I’m not sure what that was all about, but in all truth, I didn’t really try to figure it out or talk to him about it. I don’t try to talk to someone about recovery while they’re still drunk or high. It’s typically a waste of time and energy in my experience and opinion. I saw him in town this afternoon, so either he didn’t go or he made it back safely. I feel relieved at that. I did not feel good about sending him back out in the rain to drive home or to Houston intoxicated. But then again, wasn’t going to let him inside my place in the shape he was in. Truth? I don’t let many people in my house period.
The afternoon, went a little better, other than losing my phone and having to spend about 45 minutes looking for it before my father finally found it. Spent some time with a friend of mine who is also in recovery and then made a meeting. That went well. After I spent some time with J. watching the national championship game between Texas and Alabama. But on the way home, things turned back to the negative. Something happened to my poor tired old car. I may have thrown or broken a belt. Not sure. I couldn’t find a flashlight, so I’m not positive. But my charge light came on and the lights went dim, which tells me my alternator wasn’t working correctly. Then for the first time in the 14 months I’ve owned it, my car ran hot. I was able to see that a small hose had come off the radiator. I lost some fluid for sure. I put it back on, but in the cold and dark, there wasn’t much else I could do. I made it home late, and the lights at my parents’ house were already off. I didn’t feel comfortable waking my father up. I am 99% positive the car won’t start tomorrow morning, at least not before the battery sits on a charger for a while. Then there’s the question of what kind of damage there might be from the liquid spewing onto the engine and then freezing and/or the lower fluid level inside the radiator. I may have screwed up but just leaving it, but when it comes to things like this, I am so out of my element.
But while I don’t know much about engines, or if leaving was the next right thing for me to do, I do know that I made it through another day clean and sober. For that I am so grateful. I also know that if I am going to protect that recovery and maintain it, I have some decisions to make. Not having much luck knowing exactly which way I should go, just what I should do, but I have an idea. I’ve sought advice from several people who have had to make similar choices. I have prayed. I have done everything I can think of to do what I need to find guidance and direction. Soon, I will have to stop stalling and do what I know I need to. I’m just not looking forward to it. I guess deep down inside I know what I need to do, but I am afraid. This may not turn out the way I want it to. But the outcome is out of my hands. This is one of the many things I can’t control. The only part of the outcome I can control is whether or not I drink or use, and that last part is only for as long as I do what I know is the right thing, keep working my program, and most importantly try to get closer contact each day with my God.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I am working on the acceptance part, but I need a little extra help on the courage to do my part.
But I didn’t go. He accused me of throwing walls up towards him every time, but that may be because he only shows up once in a blue moon, drunk, wanting something. I never see him any other time. That’s not my idea of a good situation for me. He asked if I still go to the 12-step group I attend. I answered yes. He then said he should probably go, but he didn’t want to because they don’t understand him there. I’m not sure what that was all about, but in all truth, I didn’t really try to figure it out or talk to him about it. I don’t try to talk to someone about recovery while they’re still drunk or high. It’s typically a waste of time and energy in my experience and opinion. I saw him in town this afternoon, so either he didn’t go or he made it back safely. I feel relieved at that. I did not feel good about sending him back out in the rain to drive home or to Houston intoxicated. But then again, wasn’t going to let him inside my place in the shape he was in. Truth? I don’t let many people in my house period.
The afternoon, went a little better, other than losing my phone and having to spend about 45 minutes looking for it before my father finally found it. Spent some time with a friend of mine who is also in recovery and then made a meeting. That went well. After I spent some time with J. watching the national championship game between Texas and Alabama. But on the way home, things turned back to the negative. Something happened to my poor tired old car. I may have thrown or broken a belt. Not sure. I couldn’t find a flashlight, so I’m not positive. But my charge light came on and the lights went dim, which tells me my alternator wasn’t working correctly. Then for the first time in the 14 months I’ve owned it, my car ran hot. I was able to see that a small hose had come off the radiator. I lost some fluid for sure. I put it back on, but in the cold and dark, there wasn’t much else I could do. I made it home late, and the lights at my parents’ house were already off. I didn’t feel comfortable waking my father up. I am 99% positive the car won’t start tomorrow morning, at least not before the battery sits on a charger for a while. Then there’s the question of what kind of damage there might be from the liquid spewing onto the engine and then freezing and/or the lower fluid level inside the radiator. I may have screwed up but just leaving it, but when it comes to things like this, I am so out of my element.
But while I don’t know much about engines, or if leaving was the next right thing for me to do, I do know that I made it through another day clean and sober. For that I am so grateful. I also know that if I am going to protect that recovery and maintain it, I have some decisions to make. Not having much luck knowing exactly which way I should go, just what I should do, but I have an idea. I’ve sought advice from several people who have had to make similar choices. I have prayed. I have done everything I can think of to do what I need to find guidance and direction. Soon, I will have to stop stalling and do what I know I need to. I’m just not looking forward to it. I guess deep down inside I know what I need to do, but I am afraid. This may not turn out the way I want it to. But the outcome is out of my hands. This is one of the many things I can’t control. The only part of the outcome I can control is whether or not I drink or use, and that last part is only for as long as I do what I know is the right thing, keep working my program, and most importantly try to get closer contact each day with my God.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I am working on the acceptance part, but I need a little extra help on the courage to do my part.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Guarding my recovery
“Just for today: I will be vigilant, doing everything necessary to guard my recovery.”
I received this quote as a text message from a friend of mine the morning of New Year’s Day. What a wonderful message. What glorious timing. As the man who means more to me than he will ever know lay sleeping, or to be more accurate lay passed out after throwing away three and a half years of sobriety the night before in New Orleans, I contemplated those words.
Doing everything necessary to guard my recovery…but what exactly is that? Well, other than don’t drink, don’t drug, no matter what, I don’t always know. What is necessary changes as situations, emotions, spiritual fitness, and more changes. As they do, so does what I need to do to guard, to protect, to maintain my recovery. I don’t always know what the answer is. This situation, where the man I felt fully prepared to have in my life for…well, for the rest of it, fell back into the grip of chemicals that have nearly killed us both is one of those times I did not, and still don’t, know exactly what to do.
I love him. I have no desire to abandon him to hell. I think of my parents, my ex-wife, and a few others who loved me enough to stay in my life and pray for my recovery as I drank and used my way to the brink of the grave. How can I, who I understand, who have been there, who maintain my sobriety through service and helping the alcoholic and addict who still suffers do any less?
On the other hand, I know no one can help and addict until he or she wants that help. It doesn’t matter what or how you say something to someone if they aren’t ready to hear it. I think this may be why one of the phrases most often spoken by Jesus was “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” You can’t hear the solution, the truth, until you can, until you’re ready. I don’t believe I can handle watching A. kill himself while I wait and hope he will become ready and willing again before it is too late.
And then the toughest part of the question, can I keep this relationship AND my sobriety? Seeing A. totally messed up did not make me tempted at all to join him and return to my own personal hell. It made me sick. It hurt. It scared the hell out of me. But how long will that revulsion protect me? I don’t know.
And I don’t know what I am going to do. I don’t know what the next right thing is yet…but I do know that God knows. I have no wisdom here, but I have access to the source of all wisdom. I must be patient, seek said wisdom, and not make any moves until I am sure which way my God wants me to go.
I received this quote as a text message from a friend of mine the morning of New Year’s Day. What a wonderful message. What glorious timing. As the man who means more to me than he will ever know lay sleeping, or to be more accurate lay passed out after throwing away three and a half years of sobriety the night before in New Orleans, I contemplated those words.
Doing everything necessary to guard my recovery…but what exactly is that? Well, other than don’t drink, don’t drug, no matter what, I don’t always know. What is necessary changes as situations, emotions, spiritual fitness, and more changes. As they do, so does what I need to do to guard, to protect, to maintain my recovery. I don’t always know what the answer is. This situation, where the man I felt fully prepared to have in my life for…well, for the rest of it, fell back into the grip of chemicals that have nearly killed us both is one of those times I did not, and still don’t, know exactly what to do.
I love him. I have no desire to abandon him to hell. I think of my parents, my ex-wife, and a few others who loved me enough to stay in my life and pray for my recovery as I drank and used my way to the brink of the grave. How can I, who I understand, who have been there, who maintain my sobriety through service and helping the alcoholic and addict who still suffers do any less?
On the other hand, I know no one can help and addict until he or she wants that help. It doesn’t matter what or how you say something to someone if they aren’t ready to hear it. I think this may be why one of the phrases most often spoken by Jesus was “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” You can’t hear the solution, the truth, until you can, until you’re ready. I don’t believe I can handle watching A. kill himself while I wait and hope he will become ready and willing again before it is too late.
And then the toughest part of the question, can I keep this relationship AND my sobriety? Seeing A. totally messed up did not make me tempted at all to join him and return to my own personal hell. It made me sick. It hurt. It scared the hell out of me. But how long will that revulsion protect me? I don’t know.
And I don’t know what I am going to do. I don’t know what the next right thing is yet…but I do know that God knows. I have no wisdom here, but I have access to the source of all wisdom. I must be patient, seek said wisdom, and not make any moves until I am sure which way my God wants me to go.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Close Call
I came close today. Too close. Scared me, but I am glad that it happened because it helps me to remember I must stay vigilant. It also is a reminder of how much progress has been made this past year. Not too long ago I would I have been sitting here wondering how this happened and feeling guilty for failing to stay clean once again.
Today’s main event? Nick’s funeral. What a waste of such a wonderful and gorgeous man. His sister asked me to sing at the funeral. Now those who may be reading this who have known me a long time may remember that I used to sing quite well. Some readers may know why I can’t anymore. I have been told that my voice is not bad now, but since I can’t do what I used to be able to do, I hate my voice. As a result, I haven’t sung in a long time, leaving my vocal chops weak and out of shape. But I agreed to do it. It’s not about sounding professional or even good as much as honoring the wishes of the family and the memory of my friend, right? Whatever.
Two funerals in two days. It’s too much. I hate the way drugs and alcohol have taken so many people from my life, and I’m not even thinking about all the people I pushed away while active in my own addiction. Too many faces too many times. The stress has been so high. I had forgotten how much this hurts, partly because I did everything I could do to add to my body’s chemicals to avoid said pain in the past. So, I was already a wreck by the time I stood up mere feet from my friend’s coffin.
Even when you have a good voice and it’s in good shape it’s hard to cry and sing at the same time. I fought it as much as I could, but even that effort effects the voice. I butchered it. Both songs. And as I did, regrets flooded my soul. I destroyed my voice. I did it, and did it on purpose. Sure, I was messed up when I did, but that doesn’t change the result of my actions. I hurt my throat not far into the second song, which made the whole thing that much worse. It took everything I had to stand there and attempt to finish the song as anger and, yes, self-pity overwhelmed me. What a stupid way to act and think. This was not about me. It was about Nick and the people he left behind. I feel so ashamed that I sunk so far into myself.
Within a half-hour of the disaster I just described I had some magic feel-no-more powder in my pocket. I know what I was feeling, but what was I thinking? I couldn’t say. I need to reflect on that some to help make sure it doesn’t happen again any time soon. I carried that crap around in my pocket for about two and a half hours before I brought myself to flush it. So close to blowing it less than three weeks before I hit my one-year mark. But I am not beating myself up over the close call. The fact is that I did stay clean. I didn’t use it. And that is a miracle. There was a time when even hesitation would have been impossible. Alcohol and drugs were my Borg….Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated. But today I am free. Not well, not immune, but free. And as long as I keep working toward improvement, making positive steps and changes in my life, and most importantly, maintain my relationship with God I can remain free. As long as that happens, I will only grow more able to handle the curves life throws at me without having the temptation to try to escape.
Today’s main event? Nick’s funeral. What a waste of such a wonderful and gorgeous man. His sister asked me to sing at the funeral. Now those who may be reading this who have known me a long time may remember that I used to sing quite well. Some readers may know why I can’t anymore. I have been told that my voice is not bad now, but since I can’t do what I used to be able to do, I hate my voice. As a result, I haven’t sung in a long time, leaving my vocal chops weak and out of shape. But I agreed to do it. It’s not about sounding professional or even good as much as honoring the wishes of the family and the memory of my friend, right? Whatever.
Two funerals in two days. It’s too much. I hate the way drugs and alcohol have taken so many people from my life, and I’m not even thinking about all the people I pushed away while active in my own addiction. Too many faces too many times. The stress has been so high. I had forgotten how much this hurts, partly because I did everything I could do to add to my body’s chemicals to avoid said pain in the past. So, I was already a wreck by the time I stood up mere feet from my friend’s coffin.
Even when you have a good voice and it’s in good shape it’s hard to cry and sing at the same time. I fought it as much as I could, but even that effort effects the voice. I butchered it. Both songs. And as I did, regrets flooded my soul. I destroyed my voice. I did it, and did it on purpose. Sure, I was messed up when I did, but that doesn’t change the result of my actions. I hurt my throat not far into the second song, which made the whole thing that much worse. It took everything I had to stand there and attempt to finish the song as anger and, yes, self-pity overwhelmed me. What a stupid way to act and think. This was not about me. It was about Nick and the people he left behind. I feel so ashamed that I sunk so far into myself.
Within a half-hour of the disaster I just described I had some magic feel-no-more powder in my pocket. I know what I was feeling, but what was I thinking? I couldn’t say. I need to reflect on that some to help make sure it doesn’t happen again any time soon. I carried that crap around in my pocket for about two and a half hours before I brought myself to flush it. So close to blowing it less than three weeks before I hit my one-year mark. But I am not beating myself up over the close call. The fact is that I did stay clean. I didn’t use it. And that is a miracle. There was a time when even hesitation would have been impossible. Alcohol and drugs were my Borg….Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated. But today I am free. Not well, not immune, but free. And as long as I keep working toward improvement, making positive steps and changes in my life, and most importantly, maintain my relationship with God I can remain free. As long as that happens, I will only grow more able to handle the curves life throws at me without having the temptation to try to escape.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Shadows
I should be asleep. I want to be asleep. I need rest so badly. I feel as though I haven’t slept in a week, and considering that I have only had about 12 hours of sleep in the last four days, that’s a lot closer to the truth than I care to admit. I’m not twenty anymore, and I simply do not hold up well going on and on like the blasted Energizer Bunny. Especially since I no longer engage in the use of chemicals to aid in such craziness.
It’s been such a horrible and devastating and long and draining week. As if I needed any, I received not one but two reminders in three days that addiction is deadly. A very good friend of mine lost his fight with this beast early this week. I went to his visitation at the funeral home tonight, and I can’t tell you much I felt like I had stumbled in to a bad Twilight Zone episode. It just doesn’t feel real. It damn sure doesn’t feel right. No, all is not right with the world tonight. Telling the girl my friend loved that she’d never see him alive again broke my heart. I have been told I helped her as she received that horrible news, but I don’t feel like I did. I felt so helpless and powerless to do anything that would make it right. Because that just can’t be made right.
And one was never enough with my drinking and drugging, so it shouldn’t surprise me that it didn’t stop with one when it came to the addiction monster taking lives from me. Yesterday, I found out that an old friend of mine, something of an ex actually as we had hooked up a few times and partied together many, overdosed and died. His funeral is coming. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to handle this. It’s too much too soon too close together.
I feel my world has been spun and tipped over and shaken. It’s like fate picked up the snow globe of my life and gave it a good shake to see what would happen. As my life splits into pieces and I see everything spiraling out of control I imagine a twisted fate fairy watching the scene and going, “Cool.” I just need a break. I can’t take much more of this.
I have a song running through my head that just won’t go away. It ends with a prayer that is my prayer, because this is so how I feel right now. Hurt, scared, confused, afraid, angry, scared, determined, afraid…..
“Shadows” performed by Rez Band, written by Glenn Kaiser
…You, you chased the shadows because your hopes and dreams have been lost to the night…
Johnny's dead and buried now out on the edge of town
Drove by his grave the other day, that's when the fear came down
I hate the night that took his life, but now it's haunting me
I may be young, may be confused but I gotta be free
God, are You there, can You hear me now?
Show me how to hope
Lost in the dark on a dead end road, please save me from myself
Lord, You, You took the shadows - all my fears and doubt and brought me out of the night
Lord, You , You take the shadows - give me hope and love and turn my darkness to light
That's the part of the song that I was talking about, but the whole thing speaks to me. If you want to give it a listen here's a link...Shadows by Rez Band
It’s been such a horrible and devastating and long and draining week. As if I needed any, I received not one but two reminders in three days that addiction is deadly. A very good friend of mine lost his fight with this beast early this week. I went to his visitation at the funeral home tonight, and I can’t tell you much I felt like I had stumbled in to a bad Twilight Zone episode. It just doesn’t feel real. It damn sure doesn’t feel right. No, all is not right with the world tonight. Telling the girl my friend loved that she’d never see him alive again broke my heart. I have been told I helped her as she received that horrible news, but I don’t feel like I did. I felt so helpless and powerless to do anything that would make it right. Because that just can’t be made right.
And one was never enough with my drinking and drugging, so it shouldn’t surprise me that it didn’t stop with one when it came to the addiction monster taking lives from me. Yesterday, I found out that an old friend of mine, something of an ex actually as we had hooked up a few times and partied together many, overdosed and died. His funeral is coming. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to handle this. It’s too much too soon too close together.
I feel my world has been spun and tipped over and shaken. It’s like fate picked up the snow globe of my life and gave it a good shake to see what would happen. As my life splits into pieces and I see everything spiraling out of control I imagine a twisted fate fairy watching the scene and going, “Cool.” I just need a break. I can’t take much more of this.
I have a song running through my head that just won’t go away. It ends with a prayer that is my prayer, because this is so how I feel right now. Hurt, scared, confused, afraid, angry, scared, determined, afraid…..
“Shadows” performed by Rez Band, written by Glenn Kaiser
…You, you chased the shadows because your hopes and dreams have been lost to the night…
Johnny's dead and buried now out on the edge of town
Drove by his grave the other day, that's when the fear came down
I hate the night that took his life, but now it's haunting me
I may be young, may be confused but I gotta be free
God, are You there, can You hear me now?
Show me how to hope
Lost in the dark on a dead end road, please save me from myself
Lord, You, You took the shadows - all my fears and doubt and brought me out of the night
Lord, You , You take the shadows - give me hope and love and turn my darkness to light
That's the part of the song that I was talking about, but the whole thing speaks to me. If you want to give it a listen here's a link...Shadows by Rez Band
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
My quest for acceptance changed direction
I believe that God wants, no intends, each of us to have a life of contentment and joy. I just don’t know very many people who seem to have found that as a normal state of life. I know that I didn’t. And still don’t, at least not to the extent that I would like. I have tasted this contentment and joy at times, and like any good addict, I want more and more and more.
For almost as long as I can remember I have lived as a hunter, seeking to fill an inner yearning I didn’t quite understand. Trying to fill the God-shaped hole in my life that I didn’t even know I had. That emptiness in my life forced me, when I couldn’t bring myself to see God as the answer, to look everywhere, anywhere, for people who would love me. My desire for the acceptance of others transformed me into a performing monkey, making myself miserable and destroying my life doing whatever I could to find that fleeting moment of satisfaction, contentment, hope for love in the praise and attention I found in others.
But no matter who or how many times I found “love” and acceptance from others, no matter how much attention I received, it never satisfied for long. I don’t believe it is possible to find lasting fulfilling peace while continually trying to prove myself to others, to be who or what someone else wants or needs. This desire to be loved and accepted that drives me all too often is a symptom of the root of my emotional pain, my need for self-worth.
My significance, my validation, my self-worth can not be found in the acceptance or attention of others. It must come from knowing that I am special to my God. My Higher Power wants me to have a life joyous, happy, and free. But that happy, joyous and free life is lived in a real world filled with pain, rejection and failure. So God never said that happy, joyous and free meant problem free. I can not find that wondrous trio if my expectations take me to an unrealistic place of thinking my life should be, will be, or even can be problem free.
No, life is a voyage through problems and stress that interfere with my personal search for value and worth, but a life worth living is experiencing the love, forgiveness, and power of God in my life in the midst of these problems and stressors. It’s not life without storms, but the freedom to dance in the rain.
My life today, that life worth living doesn’t consist of being able to avoid problems, but on my ability to apply specific solutions to those problems. Not solutions of my own design or birthed from my own ideas, those solutions have failed time and time again over the years. No the solution that works in my life today is the one that comes from my relationship with my Higher Power.
Today, thanks to the tools God has given me and the relationship I have found there, my idea of self-worth goes far beyond the idea of simply feeling good about myself. While I am not entirely there yet, but more and more each day, more than I ever have before, I am finding my self-worth based on a more truthful picture, an image that has both strength and humility, my strong points, which do exist, as well as my character defects which are also still there. I don’t need to inflate my ego by enlarging the perception of the strengths, nor do I have to beat myself up over the shortcomings. I am who I am today. Tomorrow I hope to be a better man. But regardless of if I succeed or fail to improve over the next twenty-four hours, I know that my God loves me, just as I am right now, and that is the attention and acceptance I need today. I can love myself because of that love I know my Higher Power has for me. I don’t need the attention, acceptance, or approval of other people to determine my self-worth today, and for that I am grateful.
For almost as long as I can remember I have lived as a hunter, seeking to fill an inner yearning I didn’t quite understand. Trying to fill the God-shaped hole in my life that I didn’t even know I had. That emptiness in my life forced me, when I couldn’t bring myself to see God as the answer, to look everywhere, anywhere, for people who would love me. My desire for the acceptance of others transformed me into a performing monkey, making myself miserable and destroying my life doing whatever I could to find that fleeting moment of satisfaction, contentment, hope for love in the praise and attention I found in others.
But no matter who or how many times I found “love” and acceptance from others, no matter how much attention I received, it never satisfied for long. I don’t believe it is possible to find lasting fulfilling peace while continually trying to prove myself to others, to be who or what someone else wants or needs. This desire to be loved and accepted that drives me all too often is a symptom of the root of my emotional pain, my need for self-worth.
My significance, my validation, my self-worth can not be found in the acceptance or attention of others. It must come from knowing that I am special to my God. My Higher Power wants me to have a life joyous, happy, and free. But that happy, joyous and free life is lived in a real world filled with pain, rejection and failure. So God never said that happy, joyous and free meant problem free. I can not find that wondrous trio if my expectations take me to an unrealistic place of thinking my life should be, will be, or even can be problem free.
No, life is a voyage through problems and stress that interfere with my personal search for value and worth, but a life worth living is experiencing the love, forgiveness, and power of God in my life in the midst of these problems and stressors. It’s not life without storms, but the freedom to dance in the rain.
My life today, that life worth living doesn’t consist of being able to avoid problems, but on my ability to apply specific solutions to those problems. Not solutions of my own design or birthed from my own ideas, those solutions have failed time and time again over the years. No the solution that works in my life today is the one that comes from my relationship with my Higher Power.
Today, thanks to the tools God has given me and the relationship I have found there, my idea of self-worth goes far beyond the idea of simply feeling good about myself. While I am not entirely there yet, but more and more each day, more than I ever have before, I am finding my self-worth based on a more truthful picture, an image that has both strength and humility, my strong points, which do exist, as well as my character defects which are also still there. I don’t need to inflate my ego by enlarging the perception of the strengths, nor do I have to beat myself up over the shortcomings. I am who I am today. Tomorrow I hope to be a better man. But regardless of if I succeed or fail to improve over the next twenty-four hours, I know that my God loves me, just as I am right now, and that is the attention and acceptance I need today. I can love myself because of that love I know my Higher Power has for me. I don’t need the attention, acceptance, or approval of other people to determine my self-worth today, and for that I am grateful.
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