Celebration, Sobriety, and The Good Life...

Alright, I admit it...My emotions run hot and cold these days, but whose don't? I mean, yesterday my post was a lot of sincere talk about my emotional difficulties, fears, and stresses. There was a lot of great stuff as well, so I have to add that on to the 'plus' side of my daily accounting. None of the posted things were really bad, just part of life. My gratitude list always grows, if I want it too. It's up to me to see the good things that I have and not dwell on the negative. Unfortunately it's easier said than done.

I am sober today, and most likely will be tomorrow. It's currently 1:25 AM here in Somewheresville and I am up doing laundry, watching movies, and typing away. I should be reading some schoolwork, but I have a few hours before bed. Plenty of time, he said. I have searched the house and there seems to be no one here but me and the cat. Still, this gives me time to do some work. As long as I can be awake at 8AM to grab the paper and the mail and head off to my shrink, I'll be OK.

I would like to have everything right now, including intimate love, but I must wait. As my sponsor says, "Everything is exactly as it should be." I have so much already that is going well in my life. School is going great, I'm part of a community of friends, and I am respected and loved for many reasons. My health is good, I have a car, there is food in the fridge, in my belly, and roof over my head. Even my crazy cat seems to approve.

Tonight I celebrated my 3rd year of sobriety with my homegroup nearby. The feeling was fantastic. Not to be the center of attention, but to just acknowledge all of their help in my battle with this progressive disease of alcoholism. I had someone else speak for me which I think is important. It is, after all, more of a celebration of the program with me as an example. By asking someone else to speak I am throwing a little humility out to the world. I also recognized that as much as alcoholism is progressive, so is recovery, as long as I work the program to the best of my ability. I put in the effort and not worry about the outcome. I was very grateful to have my sponsor there to give me my medallion and meet some of the friends I have that he doesn't know.

The other celebrant was a guy called Fred, who celebrated 3 years as well...OK, I'll take his inventory for a second. He spoke for himself and proceeded to ramble on for too long about not much, IMHO. In the end he decided to show us his new tattoos. I don't know, I guess he's improved over the years. At least he didn't all religious like last year. He seems to have dropped his 'born again' lifestyle. Thank The Force.

The truth? He's a nice guy and he is working on many life issues, just like me. As my sponsor said, "Sometimes it takes a few years to smooth out all the bumps and jagged edges." I was proud to stand up there with him and blow out our candles together. Congratulations Fred!

My good friend Hawkcote gave me a beautiful card that she made just for me. She is an artist, and, if I know her, is awake right now either blogging or playing non-violent problem-solving video games. Thanks again, Hawkcote.

Well, it's now coming up on 2AM and I think I'll work on a model for spell before I attempt to get some sleep.



Johnnyboy

Movies, haiku, PTSD, love life...

I went to the movies last night and saw "Brokeback Mountain". For those of you who don't know it's about 2 cowboys who fall in love one summer while they're herding sheep in the Grand Tetons. I read the story in the New Yorker years ago when it was published and remember being happy and surprised at the lack of politics and subjective commentary by the author, Annie Proulx. It is a love story, and the fact that the 2 lovers are both men was treated as a secondary aspect of the tale. The most powerful facet was the love that they shared and the different reactions to that love by their wives, families, and the world around them. In one scene, the 2 men meet after 4 years of being apart. Unfortunately they are observed kissing passionately by one of the wives. Her reaction isn't disgust or shock, but rather the pain of a cuckolded mate who sees that there is someone more important, more deeply loved, than herself. Much of the film is set in Wyoming, but the story was written before the murder of Matthew Shepard. The director, Ang Lee, made a conscious decision to not politicize the film. I won't spoil it for anyone anymore. Go see it, it's a tear jerker.

My PTSD is in full bloom these days. I'm all alone in an old house (200+ years) that creaks, moves, and pops with the sound of the wind blowing outside and the baseboard heaters filling with hot water. It sounds as if there are a host of people walking around downstairs, ready to come up to my room and do whatever. I have visions of "In Cold Blood" mixed with "The Others" and numerous slasher flicks. The result is that I don't sleep well. I am tense during what sleep I manage to achieve so my neck is sore, I sleep late, having fallen asleep at 4 or 5 AM. No matter how many times I check the house (behind doors, in closets, etc...) I still don't believe the truth: I am alone in the place, not likely to be attacked. Next time my housemate leaves town for any amount of time, I'm asking a friend to stay over the night. There is plenty of room for all, including the things that go 'bump' in the night.

The upshot is that I am alone. I am also very envious of all the people I know who have someone in their lives. All I want is someone to go to the movies with, share a joke or a tear, have dinner, some physical intimacy and all that. The problem is that I never learned how to start that kind of relationship. My life was so self-centered for so long and confounded by a miserable self-esteem (ugly, stupid, bad) that these feelings have deep roots. I'm working on these issues in AA and with my therapist, but it seems a long time coming. I hope that time isn't running out for me. I don't want to go out lonely and afraid.

One interesting thing has occurred...

I gave my father the address to this weblog and he read some of it and wrote me back. I was very surprised at his comments. He said he liked the frankness and the tone, the haiku, etc...But that he didn't feel comfortable reading my online journal. Not because of what I was saying, but because even though this is an anonymous writing it was not anonymous to him, and it made him feel as if he was going through my dresser drawer, snooping, if you will. So he will not read it, leaving me with the healthy boundary one needs from an anonymous posting. I wish my other family members would see the same boundary, or feel the same way about this particular posting, and do likewise.


Here are the haiku...

#215.
I shuffle around
like a grey mental patient
in my pajamas.

#228.
My cat cleans herself
calmly but with great purpose,
grooming for the hunt.

#113.
The cool blue ocean
and the deep green sea whisper
salty lullabies.



Johnnyboy

Books, music, warm clothes...and rain...

Christmas has passed with a sigh of gratitude and relief. This year when people asked me "what do you want?' I told them to find items that they like and send them on to me. I think this is a nice way of giving. To try to make a list of my own wants is foolish, and this gives an opportunity to see a little bit more about the people in my life. So that was the message I sent out, and I followed the same path when giving, except for some practical gifts to my mother and one of my sisters.

I woke up Sunday morning with the realization that it was Christmas, and I could open my presents. My mother gave me a pair of warm slippers and a sweater, both of which I am wearing as I write this. My father sent along some books on writing and US naval history in the early 19th century as well as a couple of CD's, one of which is a collection of traditional songs from the Auvergne region in France. As he said, "songs sung by goatherds to their flocks...". It's one of his favorites. His wife sent me the new Beatles biography, which I had been eyeing in the bookstore for a couple of months. My sister sent me some Bach, BB King, and a biography of St. Augustine. I received a book on film criticism from her husband. The gifts from my other sister to the north will come back with my mother on her return this week. So Christmas isn't really over yet.

It has been raining for almost 18 hours now. If this had been snow it would have been up to my eyeballs.

I ordered the remaining books for my Lit class last night from Amazon. I have quite a stack of schoolwork to read already, and the semester hasn't even begun! I'll start what I can now and try to get a jump on January 23rd, when my first class meets.

One of the books I am reading is 'Thousand Cranes', by Yasunari Kawabata. The novel takes place in Japan during the late 1920's or early 30's, when traditional Japanese culture still thrives amidst what the reader feels (rather than sees) as the beginning of 'modern' Japan. Much of the story revolves around the Zen tea ceremony. All this is new stuff for me, like most of my life these days.

My visit to my friend's family on Christmas Eve was wonderful. I was slightly nervous, but when I arrived this disappeared. I found myself acting like a real person in a social situation, not an outsider who needed something to relax or grease the conversation. It turns out that I was a big hit with the family. The food was great, the people witty, quirky, and warm , and I left around midnight feeling the true spirit of Christmas. When I was safely home I watched 'Scrooge', the musical with Albert Finney. It has always been one of my favorite takes on the Dickens tale and I watched in wonder as it was revealed that my life had changed in much the same way as old Ebeneezer. I am no longer isolating, hating life, struggling with circumstance, or wallowing in self-centered pity and cynicism. This hasn't happened overnight, though. It has taken work and a lot of honest reflection. I am no longer a victim to my past, at least for today. Tomorrow may be entirely different.




Johnnyboy

Christmas Eve day...

It's just another day that I used as an excuse to really drink the way I wanted to drink. All in the past, thankfully. I should always remember what Typewriter Carl says, namely that all days are the same and Christmas, Thanksgiving, etc...were just excuses to go out, not reasons.

I'm not special, not unique, just a garden-variety drunk.

I'll be heading to a friend's house for the evening for a potluck dinner. It should be pretty fun, with numerous dishes and all that. I'm bringing baklava and roasted butternut squash with garlic and rosemary.

Tomorrow I'll open presents. I'm not one to open them early or Christmas eve, although some people choose to celebrate in that way. I try to let others live the way they live today, and not impose my neurosis, disease, obsessive-compulsivity, standards, or whatnot on them. I certainly don't like it the other way around. Imagine how they must feel?

A friend gave me a Christmas card last night with a surprise of $20 enclosed for gas money. I've been driving him around to meetings, so he felt it would help. It does, but not in the way he thinks. My driving him to meetings is part of the program, after all. I'm giving back. I think I'll do something charitable with the money instead. He doesn't need to know.

I have time for a nap this afternoon before I get ready to leave the house. I think I'll do that right now.

The happiest of holidays to all!

Johnnyboy

Meanwhile, a week later...

Sorry for the delay in posting but I've been out of town and when I have been at home it seems as if my running around has taken most of my energy. I'll make up for the lack of haiku certainly, but there is plenty of regular news and observations as well.

It's Christmas, or pretty close to it. As most of you know the early Christian church co-opted the already existing pagan Solstice celebration to recognize the birth of Christ. Historians have used the old Roman tax ledgers (remember what the trip to Bethlehem was all about?) to determine that the historical Jesus was actually born in the spring. So if you want to be accurate in your celebration of his birth apply for religious tax-exempt status at that time, say April 15th...

The pretty lights that we see this time of year are a throwback to the pagan practice of lighting big bonfires and torches to draw the sun back to the earth on the shortest day of the year.

St. Nicholas was actually an early Christian living in what is now Turkey around the 4th century B.C. The story follows that his neighbor had fallen on hard times and was being forced to sell his 3 daughters into prostitution to pay the bills. Nicholas heard about this and decided to act. One night he threw a bag full of gold coins through the neighbor's window, anonymously of course, thus saving the man and the fate of his daughters. There is much more about Nick in reference books, but it is good to know that he was also the bishop of Myra, in SW Turkey. His feast day is December 6th.

The first mentioning of 'chimneys' is in the 13th century, of a fresco showing the above act, but the gold going down the flue instead of through the window.

What we know of Santa Claus is a mix of Christian history and Dutch Protestant/Nordic legends about a magician who punishes or rewards children based upon their behavior.

I spent a couple of days this week in The Big City with my father and his wife. He and I went to the Big City Art Museum and saw a fantastic Van Gogh exhibit as well as some other great stuff. We also went to the Big City History Museum and wandered around for a bit. There was lots of good father/son talk and it was great to see him after so long. I was able to hit a very cool meeting on Tuesday night as well. It felt very safe to be there among people just like me. After the meeting I went out for coffee with a few of them to a diner around the corner. Lots of fun.

I think that my father has a fixed idea in his head about what a 'drunk' is supposed to be, like an old man in a dirty raincoat. I don't know, but he told me that he didn't think of me as a drunk. I reminded him that I am. He's not in AA, or any kind of program, so he doesn't really understand. He told me that he has been to a meeting, but a long time ago, before he met his wife. I guess he was dating someone in the program. The result is that he has stayed away. He could do with a little Al-Anon, though, seeing as 2 of his children are in recovery.

I'm sure he's very curious about what goes on at meetings. I can feel his wish to know more, yet keep his distance from a subject so personal to me. Unfortunately I have the strange feeling that if I invite him into that world the experience will end up in one of his books or stories, which I would not like to see. Not much that I can do about it, I suppose. I'm pretty sure he would think of AA as some kind of cult.

It was nice to get home on Wednesday night. I picked up my sponsee R and we went to a nearby AA/Al-Anon Christmas party/ potluck. Some great speakers and a lot of fine fellowship. It was bitterly cold, however, so it was a relief to crawl into a warm bed with my cat at my feet.

Sweetie Pie sleeps like a log. If I try to move my legs when I'm sleeping it's like bumping into a wall of cat. She chirps and burbles, annoyed, but doesn't move a muscle. Strange cat indeed. I caught her eating my gum the other day, again.

Oh well, here are the haiku...

#35.
Deer paw frozen snow
revealing the sudden green life.
A crow sits and waits.

#106.
The days roll slowly,
dreaming like sleeping giants,
snoring through the weeks.

#142.
The sloping hillside,
as seen through the razor wire,
blossoms in the sunshine.


Johnnyboy

No more shopping, I think...

Call me crazy, call me nuts, but I think that my Christmas shopping is finished until next year, which brings up a strange question:

If 'gift-giving' is such a good thing, that makes us feel good from both perspectives, why do we have a special time of the year in which to consolidate our love?

A good friend of mine was raised in the Jehovah's Witnesses. He is no longer part of that circle but his take on Christmas (let alone T'giving, New Years, birthdays, etc...)is somewhat refreshing. You see, the JW do not celebrate holidays, or birthdays, or anything of that nature. The idea is that one should give gifts all year around and that the gift-giving is special, not the day or time of day. Now, this doesn't mean that everytime your doorbell rings and it's an earnest proselytizer you should receive a present, or that they are particularly generous with each other. They are just people, after all. But the idea of giving being more important than time of day is important. That's what the spirit of Christmas, or of living, really is.

So I suppose that Christmas is our yearly reminder to put down the axe we're grinding, swallow our arrogant pride, and reach out and help the next person, not asking for anything in return. The reward is the deed itself, as long as you keep it a secret and not brag. Try it. It's harder than you think.

To Hwkcote: Yes, I am celebrating on Wednesday, December 28th, at 7:30PM, in the Village by the Lake. I hope to see you there. You have been a large part of my sobriety, both before and after I came into the rooms. Thank you.

More news on school...

I didn't receive the grade I told you about (3.25).

I received a 3.65.

HA! I say, HA!


Johnnyboy

December 15, 2005...

Today is my third anniversary. I actually have over 4 years sober from alcohol, but I did some other things, so I only have 3. Honesty is the best policy, etc...If you get a chance to hear my story, you can pick up some of the details.

It's been an amazing year. My schoolwork has progressed from an idea of going back to school to a first semester ending yesterday with an A- GPA. I guess that is a 3.25. That's amazing for someone like me, who rarely achieved anything over a C+. A B- was an occasion to celebrate!

I have 2 sponsees who are both very different and both doing well, as long as I let them do mostly what they want. As long as they want to stay sober, they will, with or without my help. I have learned to give them just enough rope to hang themselves and be there when they need me.

My relationship with my mother has grown in leaps and bounds. At one point I came home for security, now I stay home to be of help and comfort to one who needs me. This is an amends I could never have planned out. To be available at this time in my life to someone in a trying time in their life is truly a gift.

The sun is out and the temperature has cracked 5 degrees above zero. I have to go to my shrink this morning and then a last small round of Christmas shopping for my father, his wife, and my niece. I already have some stuff for her, but she is thirteen and needs some cool music for Christmas. I'm thinking Beck, Sinead, and Ani. I'll ask at the store. It's a hip store, so they'll know.

I visit with my father next week in The Big City. He and his wife are in town for a few days so I'll hop a southbound commuter for a couple of days. I haven't seen him since before I was released from jail, so this will be an emotional time. I'd like to make my amends to him somehow. Maybe it's already happening and I just can't see.

So what's next for Johnnyboy in his fourth year of sobriety? More school, certainly, and more travel. I've been thinking about another sorely neglected aspect of my life: dating.

We'll see...They'll have to be 'Blog-compatible'...



Johnnyboy

Chilly today, hot tamale....

Not really. I mean it's cold outside right now at 9:10PM. The weather-o-meter says 7 degrees above zero, but who's counting...This is the kind of weather that freezes pipes, exposed skin, and leaves the homeless and destitute with few alternatives. Jails and shelters are filling up with the lucky ones. The unlucky...Tragic and senseless.

I know these facts only because I served time in the county lockup. Jail populations increase as the weather changes to winter. Many folks will gladly take a drunk-and-disorderly charge if only to serve 6 months inside where they are guaranteed 3 hots and a cot, cable TV, medical attention, and all the hands of Pitch you can play. I was there. This is the truth.

I am eternally grateful for not having to make this choice today. It is purely by chance that I do not have these decisions to make. There but for the grace of God go I...

I heard a great thing last night at a meeting...

"Today I work on the effort, not worry about the outcome."

Simple, profound, and true. I find myself working the same program, sometimes. It shows when I work this philosophy to its fullest. When I don't my serenity quickly leaves me, like a cold wind.


Here are the haiku...


#34.
The yip of foxes
in the darkened, snowy, wood,
all bare oak and birch.

#42.
Crisp winter night air
an owl flies across the moon,
wings silhouetted.

#59.
These are old witches
swaying 'round and cackling:
icy, windy, trees.




Johnnyboy

I'm a slacker...

I figured I'd post a little nonsense and maybe kill some time today. That's not true, actually.

I've reworked my final assignment for my College Writing class so that's done. I've printed out my essay on Harriet Miers, with the suggested improvements made by the class and the teacher.

I've researched AA meetings in Boulder, Colorado. I used to live there, about 16 years ago, and was thinking of flying out there this winter for a few days. You know, old stomping grounds and all that. There are 50 meetings in Boulder alone, 7 days a week. Lots of sobriety out there. I wonder if any of my old drinking buddies are in the rooms? I hope so, for their sake and the sake of others.

I took care of some AA business for a group that I belong to in A Nearby Town. I'm the literature guy, so I had to write a check or two.

It's beautiful outside. White and cold, with no wind. My cat is going insane, I think. She wants to play her games of hide-and-seek-and-attack-without-warning. These can get bloody (for me!) if I'm not quick. I think the weather is making her crazy. She missed a lot of the snow last year. She's still a kitten, after all. Her birthday is in late March, we think.

I'm off to an Al-Anon/AA Christmas party this afternoon with my sponsee, Robin. For those of you who don't know, Al-Anon is for the family and friends of those in AA. Usually the actions and lives of drunks have caused havoc and misery or just confusion for the normal folks around them. But it's good for AA's to go to Al-Anon as well, if only because they deal with drunks all the time.

I think that my whole family could use a little program. Two of the children (a sister and myself) are in recovery and our actions have caused all kinds of ups and downs within the group over the years. Of course no one will ever take hold of any program just because they need it. They must want to change in order to grasp the concept and program of action. The two of us are changing, and I'm not always sure the rest of the clan likes it. We don't play the old games anymore.

My mother is going to Maine for Christmas. This will be great for her and give me some time to myself. I'm going to a friends house on Christmas Eve for dinner which will be fun. I'm making baklava for dessert. The rest of the time I'm going to chill out, read some philosophy (Hobbes) , make a model or two, and keep my regular meeting schedule.

Well, that's all for now. I guess, for a snowy Sunday in December, I'm pretty busy...

Happy Birthday JoJo!


Johnnyboy

Almost a week has passed...

...And my life is continuing to grow and flourish. Although it does seem like 2 steps forward and one step back, I am making headway.

I handed in my philosophy paper yesterday and await news of its quality, etc...All those who have read it say it's fine, great, readable, clear, concise, and so on. But they aren't grading the thing, so my feeling is that the professor is going to inform me that it is well written, long enough, but that I have it all wrong. Yes, I live in The Fear sometimes. My last paper received a 'B'. I must admit that I think that this paper is better. Still, it gnaws at my bones...

My PTSD has been in full swing these past days with a large amount of hyper-vigilance and he accompanying sleeplessness and tight neck and shoulders. For those of you not in the loop, I spent some time in jail a while back (19 months, released on Sept 3, 2004) and so I suffer from PTSD from that experience as well as myriad others in my life. The worst is the hyper-vigilance. This is when I am always on point, if you will, always on guard. HV is a common symptom of PTSD and is seen in combat vets as well. The idea is that you never know when you have to spring into defensive or offensive action so the best way to be prepared is to always be prepared. Unfortunately it leaves the realm of choice after a while and enters into the world of unconscious action and paranoia (in different degrees).

So I go to bed at midnight, toss around for an hour, fall asleep at 1am, wake up at 2:15am, go back to sleep (if I'm lucky), wake up again around 3:30 or so, etc...What wakes me up is not clear, but I imagine I see a light flashing in my eyes or someone driving up the driveway. The flashing light is explainable: In jail, I became very used to the guard, on his nightly, hourly, rounds, walking past my cell and flashing a flashlight in my face to make sure I was still there. Old habits die hard, I suppose. The car noises, I don't know, except that the feeling of "they're coming to get me" can be pretty strong sometimes.

The other night I was convinced of this. So at 3:15 I got out of bed, threw on a shirt over my skivvies, and went downstairs to see who was here. I knew there was no one driving around, yet, and this is the weird thing....

....I didn't turn on any lights because I wanted to catch them in the act! I made that decision consciously as I was going down the stairs. My thoughts were that the lights would alert them to my presence and then they'd run away.

Kinda nutz. Like I said, 2 steps forward, one step back...hmmm...

Here are the haiku, and on time...


#123.
Filtered through the dim light,
sketched grey chalk and blackbird wings,
a cloudy poem.

#172.
I should be reading
an anthropology text,
not thinking of you.

#171.
Pale grey gleaming light
on this overcast Tuesday
brightens the trees.



Johnnyboy