3/29/03

Happy Birthday to Scott! If you have a moment, go wish him one!

I just wanted to post a picture today. This was my friend Sean. He died almost a year ago, and I have been thinking of him a lot lately. I just got off the phone with his mom, and I decided to post his picture here.

This was taken in one of the two trees at "Two trees" in Ventura. It's somewhat of a landmark here. We hiked up there on this day, and it was a lot of fun. The hike kicked my ass! It doesn't look like much, but it was a doozy. Anyways, I took a bunch of pictures, but this one was my absolute favorite.

I miss you, you crazy motherfucker. I really, really do, Sean.

3/27/03

Well, in case y'all have not noticed, I have not been posting here at all lately. I have really had no idea what to write about. I haven't been incredibly busy, I have just been lazy and uninspired, I suppose.

Life's in session, and I guess I am a participant... I feel a lot lately like the days are just passing me by, and I am sort of standing still, trying not to get hit by anything too big. I feel like I really took quite an emotional and mental beating in the last few months, and I am still reeling from it.

We got a phone call that another addict had died on Saturday night. He overdosed in the same apartment that my roommate and several other addicts in recovery pulled Tony out of during this last run. The messed up thing was that these people who lived there supposedly left this guy on the floor, fishing, and just up and split. No call to 911, no nothing. A neighbor somehow got in, and found him. He was dead. I am so damn tired of this ugly disease killing people.

But I felt really guilty because I was more disturbed by the idea of that guy being Tony than I was about the fact that he died. I feel horrible for his family, and the loved ones he left behind. Burying addicts is always sad, and yes, I am really sad about him dying. But it really fucked me up - like panic attack-fucked-up to think of that guy being Tony. I feel really selfish for thinking that, I do. But I am grateful that it wasn't Tony, and I am sorry that another addict has died. I hope that he is at peace now.

Things are better on the homefront. I am feeling a bit more secure and I am definitely happy about the way that the last few weeks have been at home. I have to admit, though, that I am prepared for the hammer to drop again. Well, ok - maybe not prepared, but I am aware that it might. I am scared that it will, and I don't want it to.

But I am also slowly learning that I can't control or imagine my life into what it might be. I can certainly make decisions that will put me in the places that feel right for me, and try my best to create a life for myself that I will be happy in - but ultimately I don't have control over what curve balls get thrown into the mix.

And considering that for a long time, I really felt safe and serene and very, very content with what I had, that left me in this place of feeling freaked out. Like no matter how hard I work for what I think I want, I will never have any guarantees that it's going to turn out like I imagine. You know, happily ever after and all that nonsense.

I already knew it, on a logical level, to be true. But knowing it from experience is a whole different ball game. It's left me sort of feeling like "what's next?". I feel like I am waiting.

I am waiting for the trust to be regained. I am waiting for the fear to recede. I am waiting for the bad dreams to stop, and the cold, dark fear of it happening again to go away. I am waiting for my life to feel "normal" again. It just feels really foreign to me. Like everything that happened in my relationship and my world for the last three years has been eaten up by the last four months, and I just feel lost.

My shrink tells me this is normal. Sort of like "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder", although calling it that seems extreme, considering that what I dealt with could have been a million times worse. It was a growing experience. A life lesson, and one that I am sure in a while will make more sense and feel more purposeful. Right now, all it feels like is a fucked-up mess that was and is really confusing.

So, I am just trying to live in the moment, be kind to myself, be grateful that I am loved, be grateful that he is here with me, that he is better. I am trying to get back to the basics of what I was taught to do in recovery - go to meetings, help others, and keep my side of the street clean. And I am really trying to release my imaginary grip on the steering wheel of life, and just let it happen.

I'll eventually regain my footing, and fly out there again, balls to the wall. But for now, I am content to just be quiet and coast along.....

3/6/03

So here I am sitting here, drinking coffee, wondering if I really should write all the shit I am feeling, wondering if I am going to pretend like things are ok when they are not, continue to be vague, talk about other issues, and not get to the real deal.

It's easier sometimes to pretend here like my life is fantastic, and I am doing so well, and ya-ya "I'm just fine". Well, the truth is that that's bullshit.

I am not fine. I am sad, scared and really powerless right now. I am slowly watching a person I love with all of my heart and soul kill themselves with drugs. This person no longer bears much resemblance to the person I knew, and this person is incredibly messed up right now. In the grip of their disease, and running at what appears to be full-force.

I have had to take a serious stand and draw some very difficult boundaries for my own health and sanity and as a result, this person is not in my life in a close manner right now.

It feels really shitty. I am fucking terrified that this person is going to die. I don't know how I will handle that, if it happens. I pray every day for that to not be the end of this. I am terrified that my life will never be the same (it won't, i suppose) and I am struggling with letting go of what things were, and just having faith that the process that myself and this person are in, is right and what needs to happen for both of us.

Yeah, "nothing happens in God's world by accident", but this feels like it has to be a mistake. And I have a hard time grasping that this much pain and horror can have purpose. I am having a hard time seeing the Light at the end of this black tunnel. It's difficult to continue through my day, handle life's business and act "as if" to the whole other world that is going about life right now.

Nothing feels normal, nothing feels right. I'm sick of all the advice and all the people who love and care for me, trying to tell me what they think I need to do. Nobody has any business telling me what to do until they have sat in my shoes for a while.

So, after that long tirade of emotion, I actually do have something hopeful to say. I do have faith. I have faith and hope and a strong and brilliant love pouring from my heart to this person. I DO trust God, and the universe. I KNOW that I will be ok. I KNOW that I dont have to use, no matter what and as long as I continue to stay clean and seek help for myself, I have some control over the effect this has on my life, and my world.

But sometimes that feels like it's not enough, and I get all caught up in wanting to have the power to change what is happening. I wish that I could tell God what to do and he would listen. I wish that I could wave my magic recovery wand and give this person what they need, give them some clarity, and get them clean.

But I know that the truth is today, that the most loving thing that I can do for him is to get out of the way, and let him have his process. I can continue to be a sane and compassionate voice of love to him, as long as I am safe in that place. I can continue to pray fervently for him, that he gains some clarity, and that somehow, his disease is arrested, before it is too late. I don't want to bury one more fucking addict that I love.

So, please - if you pray, pray for him.