I really don't get many things to be proud of myself over. But today is definitely an exception. It's too much to go into, but I figured out pretty damn decent way around a problem and made everybody happy.
Boom.
Also, I'm moving to Beebe. It'll be good....It'll be good....It'll be good....
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Blind.
I don't even know how to start this, but I guess I just did.
How could a loved one taking their own life get any worse? Having a bad friend at a time when you're at your weakest, emotionally.
I recently (seconds ago) had a revelation that almost everything bad that has happened to me or around me over the past 7 or so years has been directly related to my problems with alcohol.
I spent last night grieving the loss of a good man, a great friend and someone that I've spent several hours talking with about deep stuff. Stuff that people don't generally want to talk about with someone that they really don't know very well, but that's how we got to know each other, I suppose. I looked up to him in several different ways. This person waited with me at a rehab clinic as I paced around for about two hours trying to drunkenly decide if I was going to sign the admission papers or not. My panic took over, and I did not. Being an alcoholic is no fun, really. After the drive back to my car, he was very gentle in the way that he dealt with me. There was no guilt, no arrogance of his own sobriety. He was just a friend. He was there if you needed him. I wish I had been that kind of friend last night.
As much as I cared for this person, I have a friend that was much closer to him and knew him much longer. As I type this I'm fighting off tears.
Here's what I know about myself: I am an alcoholic. When I drink, I can get to the point of blacking out (this is much harder to do now than it used to be, but happens more frequently) and pulling the hair trigger on my rage. I have been so worried about my friend. I just wanted to be there for him and try and get through all of this together. Instead of doing that, I drank myself into a blind rage. I just now was told what I had done. All I remembered was being charged at and knocked over by my friend and taking a cab home. I woke up this morning with no recollection of the things that I had said or done. After another friend of mine called me and reluctantly told me what I had done and I reluctantly listened to him describe my arrogant, shameful, despicable behavior, I can't even begin to describe how I feel. It feels like someone you love has died and someone else you love wants you dead. He would be justified in feeling that way.
My nature is to care, bring peace, nurture and love. When I drink, I am what alcohol wants me to be- a vessel for destruction and hate. This is not uncommon among alcoholics. Go to an AA meeting and you'll hear and know. I am very self-conscious, I assume everyone is always laughing at me and that the world is in on some joke about me that I don't know about. From what I know about myself and what I've been able to piece together, I assume I felt mocked, for no reason a sober person would think. So, I lashed out. I lashed out on my friends, and tried to fight them. I hate violence with a passion. I wish no one would ever want to hurt anyone or themselves. I hate confrontation (Ironic statement from someone who a lot of people would consider confrontational). I hate being a bad friend. Which I am.
This is nothing new for me. Alcohol has always made the little demons inside me rise up to the surface. I have lashed out at family, friends, girlfriends, strangers.
Over the past few months there have been massive revelations for me. One was that I have come dangerously close to killing myself or others when I've driven drunk. As the result of running my car into a wall and totaling it, and the damage done to my body, I will never drive drunk again. I have come dangerously close to committing suicide, and if it hadn't been for some strange happenings with my family after I took a bunch of pills and drank enough booze to sink a ship, I don't think the paramedics would have gotten there in time.
I have spent some time in AA. in and out. Convincing myself that I'm not an alcoholic and I can control it. After all, over the past month or so I've been quite satisfied with the .99 cent 32oz High Lifes from the local gas station and going home and drinking 3 to 5 of them a night...But the one time I go out. The one time I needed to be a good friend...I was not.
Some people could tell you that I fold under pressure. That you can't count on me when it counts the most. This is true. This is the antipode of what my deceased friend was. If he wasn't genuinely caring towards others, he was fucking great at faking it. But he wasn't faking. He was a good friend, a good father, with his own demons.
I'm starting to believe that people who take their life when they're drunk aren't committing suicide, but just succumbing to the violent nature of alcohol.
Alcohol is not a drug. It is a murderer. It's like the God/Devil thing; The devil doesn't care if you believe in him, he just doesn't want you to believe in God. Alcohol doesn't care if you're dead, it just doesn't want you alive. It is a poison to the brain and the body. It is glorified to the masses as a relaxer, deserved after a long day. What men do. Moderation? How many people do you know that drink in moderation? I think being an alcoholic is more common than not being an alcoholic. It's a tricky little fucker. At first it makes you happy to drink, but after long enough and hard enough, you realize that nothing feels good when you're drinking. It's like asking a smoker why they smoke, they really can't tell you, but they're body could.
Alcohol can take a life, break relationships, ruin your body and leave you broke. While I don't know all the details of my friends death, I can't help but assume alcohol helped pull the trigger, or pulled the trigger all by itself. See, when I tried to kill myself I had had a great day. I was telling everyone what a great day it was, but by then end of the night, I was depressed and ready to die. I had drank so very much alcohol that I wasn't myself. By the time the paramedics had gotten through my front door, I was unconscious and they thought I was dead. They made my Mother and her Husband sit on the couch while they found out. This makes me sick to my stomach to think about. Especially after getting the news about my friend and thinking that I could have doled out that same emotion if my suicide attempt had been successful, and how I never want anyone to feel like that. But alcohol does want me to kill myself. Alcohol wants nothing more than for me to be a failure at everything I set out to do.
Like last night, I drank so much alcohol that I wasn't myself. I turned from a caring, compassionate, sympathetic, sad friend into a school yard bully, apparently in seconds. What the saddest part about this? I may have lost two friends this week. One from the mother fucker that is alcohol, and the other from the mother fucker that is alcohol. All of it was preventable. Definitely not inevitable.
If I could stop crying I wouldn't. I'm ashamed and scared.
I am going back to AA and getting the help that I need. I'm not leaving without a sponsor and hopefully, this will be my last hangover. I think this is the best way I can honor the life of my friend; trying as hard as I can to be successful in sobriety instead of trying to honor his memory with booze and destroying friendships. That is not at all what he would've wanted or done had it been me that died.
This is me. I really don't know what any of this might mean to you. But posting it is my personal punishment for my behavior, a half-assed apology and my tribute to a friend/victim.
How could a loved one taking their own life get any worse? Having a bad friend at a time when you're at your weakest, emotionally.
I recently (seconds ago) had a revelation that almost everything bad that has happened to me or around me over the past 7 or so years has been directly related to my problems with alcohol.
I spent last night grieving the loss of a good man, a great friend and someone that I've spent several hours talking with about deep stuff. Stuff that people don't generally want to talk about with someone that they really don't know very well, but that's how we got to know each other, I suppose. I looked up to him in several different ways. This person waited with me at a rehab clinic as I paced around for about two hours trying to drunkenly decide if I was going to sign the admission papers or not. My panic took over, and I did not. Being an alcoholic is no fun, really. After the drive back to my car, he was very gentle in the way that he dealt with me. There was no guilt, no arrogance of his own sobriety. He was just a friend. He was there if you needed him. I wish I had been that kind of friend last night.
As much as I cared for this person, I have a friend that was much closer to him and knew him much longer. As I type this I'm fighting off tears.
Here's what I know about myself: I am an alcoholic. When I drink, I can get to the point of blacking out (this is much harder to do now than it used to be, but happens more frequently) and pulling the hair trigger on my rage. I have been so worried about my friend. I just wanted to be there for him and try and get through all of this together. Instead of doing that, I drank myself into a blind rage. I just now was told what I had done. All I remembered was being charged at and knocked over by my friend and taking a cab home. I woke up this morning with no recollection of the things that I had said or done. After another friend of mine called me and reluctantly told me what I had done and I reluctantly listened to him describe my arrogant, shameful, despicable behavior, I can't even begin to describe how I feel. It feels like someone you love has died and someone else you love wants you dead. He would be justified in feeling that way.
My nature is to care, bring peace, nurture and love. When I drink, I am what alcohol wants me to be- a vessel for destruction and hate. This is not uncommon among alcoholics. Go to an AA meeting and you'll hear and know. I am very self-conscious, I assume everyone is always laughing at me and that the world is in on some joke about me that I don't know about. From what I know about myself and what I've been able to piece together, I assume I felt mocked, for no reason a sober person would think. So, I lashed out. I lashed out on my friends, and tried to fight them. I hate violence with a passion. I wish no one would ever want to hurt anyone or themselves. I hate confrontation (Ironic statement from someone who a lot of people would consider confrontational). I hate being a bad friend. Which I am.
This is nothing new for me. Alcohol has always made the little demons inside me rise up to the surface. I have lashed out at family, friends, girlfriends, strangers.
Over the past few months there have been massive revelations for me. One was that I have come dangerously close to killing myself or others when I've driven drunk. As the result of running my car into a wall and totaling it, and the damage done to my body, I will never drive drunk again. I have come dangerously close to committing suicide, and if it hadn't been for some strange happenings with my family after I took a bunch of pills and drank enough booze to sink a ship, I don't think the paramedics would have gotten there in time.
I have spent some time in AA. in and out. Convincing myself that I'm not an alcoholic and I can control it. After all, over the past month or so I've been quite satisfied with the .99 cent 32oz High Lifes from the local gas station and going home and drinking 3 to 5 of them a night...But the one time I go out. The one time I needed to be a good friend...I was not.
Some people could tell you that I fold under pressure. That you can't count on me when it counts the most. This is true. This is the antipode of what my deceased friend was. If he wasn't genuinely caring towards others, he was fucking great at faking it. But he wasn't faking. He was a good friend, a good father, with his own demons.
I'm starting to believe that people who take their life when they're drunk aren't committing suicide, but just succumbing to the violent nature of alcohol.
Alcohol is not a drug. It is a murderer. It's like the God/Devil thing; The devil doesn't care if you believe in him, he just doesn't want you to believe in God. Alcohol doesn't care if you're dead, it just doesn't want you alive. It is a poison to the brain and the body. It is glorified to the masses as a relaxer, deserved after a long day. What men do. Moderation? How many people do you know that drink in moderation? I think being an alcoholic is more common than not being an alcoholic. It's a tricky little fucker. At first it makes you happy to drink, but after long enough and hard enough, you realize that nothing feels good when you're drinking. It's like asking a smoker why they smoke, they really can't tell you, but they're body could.
Alcohol can take a life, break relationships, ruin your body and leave you broke. While I don't know all the details of my friends death, I can't help but assume alcohol helped pull the trigger, or pulled the trigger all by itself. See, when I tried to kill myself I had had a great day. I was telling everyone what a great day it was, but by then end of the night, I was depressed and ready to die. I had drank so very much alcohol that I wasn't myself. By the time the paramedics had gotten through my front door, I was unconscious and they thought I was dead. They made my Mother and her Husband sit on the couch while they found out. This makes me sick to my stomach to think about. Especially after getting the news about my friend and thinking that I could have doled out that same emotion if my suicide attempt had been successful, and how I never want anyone to feel like that. But alcohol does want me to kill myself. Alcohol wants nothing more than for me to be a failure at everything I set out to do.
Like last night, I drank so much alcohol that I wasn't myself. I turned from a caring, compassionate, sympathetic, sad friend into a school yard bully, apparently in seconds. What the saddest part about this? I may have lost two friends this week. One from the mother fucker that is alcohol, and the other from the mother fucker that is alcohol. All of it was preventable. Definitely not inevitable.
If I could stop crying I wouldn't. I'm ashamed and scared.
I am going back to AA and getting the help that I need. I'm not leaving without a sponsor and hopefully, this will be my last hangover. I think this is the best way I can honor the life of my friend; trying as hard as I can to be successful in sobriety instead of trying to honor his memory with booze and destroying friendships. That is not at all what he would've wanted or done had it been me that died.
This is me. I really don't know what any of this might mean to you. But posting it is my personal punishment for my behavior, a half-assed apology and my tribute to a friend/victim.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Dreams...
Ok. This is something I need to get out of my head and stop dwelling on it. That's what I like about this. It's kind of like I can put something here (on blogger) and let it go, or at the very least- when I see it typed, I feel better about it.
I keep having this same dream. I guess I've been having it for the past 6 or so months. It's always in the same place, and for the most part, the same thing happens over and over. It gets really hard to remember when I wake up. But the feeling is the same. I feel drained out and stressed when I wake up, and sad.
It all takes place in my last apartment. Which I find very weird considering I hated living there (for the most part) and it has been remodeled since I left. Improvements which I have not seen, but would like to, considering that in my dream the apartment has been remodeled.
Dreams just really freak me out sometimes. Like this dream I had last night, a portion of it was the same old dream. But then I wake up and realized that this dream has taken place over a period of weeks in my head. You know, like in Inception.... In this dream, I had wrecked a car, gotten alcohol poisoning, burned a house down....all by accident.... And over a two week period.
Some dreams aren't just dreams. I know that. I had a dream one time that this girl fell off of her second story apartment balcony. I woke up to find that this had actually happened. And happened just as in my dream. Like an out of body experience.
Anyways, I feel a little better about this now. Still tired though.
I keep having this same dream. I guess I've been having it for the past 6 or so months. It's always in the same place, and for the most part, the same thing happens over and over. It gets really hard to remember when I wake up. But the feeling is the same. I feel drained out and stressed when I wake up, and sad.
It all takes place in my last apartment. Which I find very weird considering I hated living there (for the most part) and it has been remodeled since I left. Improvements which I have not seen, but would like to, considering that in my dream the apartment has been remodeled.
Dreams just really freak me out sometimes. Like this dream I had last night, a portion of it was the same old dream. But then I wake up and realized that this dream has taken place over a period of weeks in my head. You know, like in Inception.... In this dream, I had wrecked a car, gotten alcohol poisoning, burned a house down....all by accident.... And over a two week period.
Some dreams aren't just dreams. I know that. I had a dream one time that this girl fell off of her second story apartment balcony. I woke up to find that this had actually happened. And happened just as in my dream. Like an out of body experience.
Anyways, I feel a little better about this now. Still tired though.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Off my chest!!!
Fall is here...ish.
I've gotten a dog/girlfriend named Rosie. I got her a brush, food, treats, shampoo and a comfy spot on my bed. She seems very happy, as do I.
I went yard sale-ing Saturday. Got some super cool shit. Records, Art, Books, other...stuff....spent $32!
I shaved my beard and kept the stache...mixed reviews so far. I'm kinda diggin it.
Got the fuck off of facebook and feel pretty good about it. It is weird to see how much it consumes your life when you pay attention to that fact.
I'm in a very creative space with a very procrastinating body. I think I get this way because I get scared of what will happen when I try to take it out of my head and put it on paper....I've got songs, scripts, jokes, poems, all rolling around up here and I'm too scared to get them out. So I forget about them and regret it later. I'm an idiot.
My neighbors continue to be badass. They have a washer and dryer and offered to let me use it. Before I knew it, Andy had folded all my shit and brought it over. I think that's the first time (since I was living with my Grandmother) that anyone has ever folded my clothes. Lol! We watch out for each other and have some good times. I'm glad we live next to each other again.
My goddamn iphone is broken. My Aunt gave me her old one. After taking them both apart I realized that the screen on the old one was not compatible with my new one. So I'm using her old one and looking for parts online. Stupid iphones!
Life is as good as it is short.
I have one addiction I know I can't kick- Women. But I'm doing my best to focus my attention elsewhere.
Booyashacka!
I've gotten a dog/girlfriend named Rosie. I got her a brush, food, treats, shampoo and a comfy spot on my bed. She seems very happy, as do I.
I went yard sale-ing Saturday. Got some super cool shit. Records, Art, Books, other...stuff....spent $32!
I shaved my beard and kept the stache...mixed reviews so far. I'm kinda diggin it.
Got the fuck off of facebook and feel pretty good about it. It is weird to see how much it consumes your life when you pay attention to that fact.
I'm in a very creative space with a very procrastinating body. I think I get this way because I get scared of what will happen when I try to take it out of my head and put it on paper....I've got songs, scripts, jokes, poems, all rolling around up here and I'm too scared to get them out. So I forget about them and regret it later. I'm an idiot.
My neighbors continue to be badass. They have a washer and dryer and offered to let me use it. Before I knew it, Andy had folded all my shit and brought it over. I think that's the first time (since I was living with my Grandmother) that anyone has ever folded my clothes. Lol! We watch out for each other and have some good times. I'm glad we live next to each other again.
My goddamn iphone is broken. My Aunt gave me her old one. After taking them both apart I realized that the screen on the old one was not compatible with my new one. So I'm using her old one and looking for parts online. Stupid iphones!
Life is as good as it is short.
I have one addiction I know I can't kick- Women. But I'm doing my best to focus my attention elsewhere.
Booyashacka!
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