The wisdom to know the difference…

Missing Missoula… I would even freeze my balls off to be in Missoula right now.

Now I don’t want to get anyone excited/disappointed but I’ve done some detective work… piecing together certain events and opportunities that my HP has placed before me with other events in other people’s lives and this is what I’ve come up with…

I live in Houston but work for my favorite place on the planet, Open Aid Alliance in Missoula.  They recently offered me a job where I do remote IT work and consulting… would it be better if I could be there and hands on?  Yes.

The same day I was offered the job at OAA, another IT company called them looking for me because they had been trying to track me down so they could offer me a job.  This IT company is also in Missoula… remember I live in Houston now… I had to turn that offer down because it required me moving to Missoula but I was told to let them know if I ever move back… 

My son lives in Houston with my sister but wants to live back in Missoula where his mom is and his friends are…

His mom (and still my wife) lives in Missoula and misses my son dearly and wants to be down here but has no means to make it down here currently… too expensive and no job prospects currently…

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can…

I suck at math, but I’m going to try this anyway…

(W+Jo=$)(S+C)-H=M

Where

  • W=work
  • Jo=job offer
  • $=money for bills, living, etc.
  • S=son
  • C=Craig (me)
  • H=Houston
  • M=Missoula

So, my math being my math and using the events and opportunities my HP has placed before me, and having a certain amount courage to change the things I can, I think I should be moving me and my son back to Missoula.

and the wisdom to know the difference.

But is my wisdom right?  Does the match compute?  How do I know the difference?

This powerful experience and I made a difference

My boy… gave me (and my sister) the ultimate compliment today…

The feeling of powerlessness and guilt and shame and isolation… the not knowing what lies ahead and how it eats at you… makes your stomach turn and keeps you from eating… the voice in your mind that says to stay quiet lest you cause more pain or make things worse or no one understands or it’s too hard to explain… those feelings are common for me… read any post here and you know I’m constantly fighting myself because of myself… I live and/or die daily because of feelings/powerlessness/etc.

The best kid on this planet is feeling similarly today and by the grace of God and what I’ve learned from others in this program over the years, I was able to help… my boy couldn’t eat, could hardly talk, had no energy and his wonderful bright and charming smile MIA… he was in his head… alone.

It was hard at first… I didn’t know how to start but I did… I prayed quickly and quietly and then just asked my boy a question. And asked a bit more and a little more… then we stopped and watched The People’s Court and Family Fued… I was able to add a little humor into the mix with my own stories of classic episodes and of Richard Dawson… here we go.

He came and laid next to me and I put my arm around him and held his hand… connection his mom is waaaaaay better at than I am but I gave it my best… 

Then I suggested taking a short walk to just get out of the house… as we left I suggested we walk to the outlet mall so I can spend the rest of my Calvin Klein gift card on underwear… we end up there, Vans, Whataburger, Avademy Sports, Old Navy, Marshalls, and back to Calvin Klein (still had $12.00) before finally hitting the gas station for juice and heading home… 4 hours and 5.5 miles and 15,677 steps later he’s feeling better and I see him smiling and he’s hugging on me and we get a call about his status and it’s good but we don’t know all of the details until tomorrow…

He’s relieved and we continue talking and making plans.  We talk about talking and sharing and what happens when you do and we talk about consequences of behaviors and praying.  

So at the start of my journey with him in his head… I opened up first and talked to him about some of my experiences and feelings and having a sponsor and how having plans is natural but they can change and I want him to feel like he can come to me with anything because I have a lot of the same feelings and that when these thoughts are in his head they may be difficult to process but if he talks about them, just saying them aloud may help him understand them more and if I can help I will and if I don’t know the answer I will ask my sponsor or anyone and get him the answer…

This is when he said…

You and Becky (my sister) should be motivational speakers or talk to people and help them… you are good at that and I feel better.

to which we carried on joking about going to high school pep rally’s and TED Talks… I thanked him for saying that to me and that it made me feel good and that my experiences are what I draw from and by me working on myself I can then help him with his things. It’s why I do what I do… and if I wasn’t clean, none of this would be possible.


Thank you to Becky for all you do… you’re making a difference and it’s amazing.

Thank you to all the people that give me support.

I love you.

Resisting compulsive acts of attention seeking is fucking hard and depressing

It’s killing me to not be fishing for compliments… to give to take… to take and spin to take more…

I want it all… the attention.

I’ve taken selfies to send to certain people and deleted them…

I’ve written clever messages and cleared them…

The obsession of attention is hurting productivity… when I should be working and earning I’m instead trying to be the cleverest hot AF recovering addict you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing…

See?

And because I’m disappointed in my situation, I’m now playing catch the potential criminal with a security guard because I have a problem with authority and pretend authority… basically, if I’m unhappy, you should be too… at least you get to write a report “copper” and get paid.
And now a few blocks away from where I need to be… it’s raining… good job you dumbass.

Seat for a lifetime

Man… I am digging the 6:45 AM meetings lately… hearing what I need to hear… quality and quantity. 

I’ve read this a few times and today it stuck… from the AA Big Book, Chapter 3, page 30:

No person likes to think he is bodily and mentally different from his fellows. Therefore, it is not surprising that our drinking careers have been characterized by countless vain attempts to prove we could drink like other people. The idea that somehow, someday he will control and enjoy his drinking is the great obsession of every abnormal drinker. The persistence of this illusion is astonishing. Many pursue it into the gates of insanity or death.

How vain I was to try and control my drinking/using… How many different ways did I try and how many people did I wish I could be when it came to controlling my using… a million or more… 

I have a friend that can do meth recreationally… they buy some and stick it in the freezer and use it on special nights out… I tried that… except that special night became 5 minutes later, middle of the day and it never made it to the fucking freezer… let’s see, what else?

Fixing measured shots ahead of time and telling myself I was allowed only this many per day… except I’d miss and need to use another or I didn’t get the rush I wanted or I had work to get done…

Having someone else dole out my shit… that worked until they weren’t home and I destroyed the file cabinets, desk drawers, garage and other hiding places until I found the stash, both hers and mine and used it all…

I had all sorts of intentions and best laid plans… I just didn’t have the help of a power greater than myself to stop.

Today I do.  Today, I have a seat in a fellowship that can help me when I need it. I have earned a seat and I intend to keep it…

The disease is strong with this one… still.

My disease is working on me today… it’s filling my thoughts with doubt/self-pity/resentment/fear/and fuck you…

I had to re-write my half-assed answers from yesterday’s meeting and I couldn’t do it… every time I tried to start, a thought or better known as an obsession came into block that positive action… the obsession would insert nagging thought or longing or sentimental feeling or past concern or self-doubt or fear or resentment or annoyance…

It spared nothing and they all started off small but none of them would stop and I would pray and it would pile on… using my pause as a chance to slip another one in…

I could not find peace… could not find the right tune to inspire me to write or to beat the shit out of the growing obsessions… I could not not hate what I was writing and would start and say fuck it and scratch out the words and get pissed and oh, there’s another thing on top of what I’m mad about… I am not on my game I would think…

I had about an hour before I had to turn this revised bunch of shit I was writing and sbux being sbux was getting busier and louder and the employees were at their most annoying ever… “we’re making too much bread… stop repeating the orders… can I help you”  Shut the fuck up…

I know what to do… I’ll head back to the house and find my guy and ask him for help in writing this… he’ll understand my disposition and understand…

But I decide I’ll try to complete this myself at the meeting hall at me house… not going to work… people are alive and breathing… don’t they fucking know what the fuck I need to do and what the fuck is going on with me?

I head out the door… coming towards me is my guy… he says what’s up and I can only stutter “I… I.” And he says he’ll be with me in a minute… thank you God…

We sit down, I tell him I suck and I hate what I’m writing and that he might as well take what I wrote yesterday and he says… “ooookay, I can do that, and if you want to stay where you’re at, that’s fine…” fuck you I’m thinking… but welcoming the condensing tone… he knows whats up…

I love this guy… eventually, he helps me fill in the blanks, translating the sad-sack-emotional-vomit-grunts into the more acceptable English language that this wannabe writer would have loved to come up with himself… he understands addicterbish… I appreciate that…

And yet, my addiction thinks it still has a chance…

We finish the form and he asks me how I like the answers and I tell him I think they suck and I want to start over on my own and jump out the window and not make my life any better.  “What’s really going on?” he asks.  And he asks again and finally one more time and it came out… the truth.

I turned on my phone first thing… before praying and I read a text about my dog and it made me sad and started my day off wrong and it started this whole chain reaction… it wasn’t the text but it was going off routine and not being prepared for the consequences… my addiction was all over that shit…

But thanks to my guy, and his patience and his experience I was able to accept the answers I came up with and I know that I’m not stuck with them forever and they don’t define me and they’re based upon 42 days of clean time which ain’t shit in the whole feelings v reality arena…

The disease is a force… so is the program and my support and my will and my Higher Power.

It’s all been done before or I am not a special snowflake

In reference to my past few days, specifically getting what I want…

I had a great AA meeting last night where I was reminded that I was being ungrateful for the gifts from God… what I had and where I was and how much fucking better it is than it was 42 days ago…

I had a great meeting this morning with myself in the body of another 46 year old addict… the parallels are amazing (punker from the same circles (yet we don’t know each other from back in the day), same non-substance obsession type, same DOC, same same same)…  He has more time and awareness and experience and  his presence is certainly divine and appreciated.  Thank you God.  He’s helping me recognize where I suck… I know it’s because I’m pissed and don’t you fucking tell me I can do better and how vague this perfectly vague answer is… it’s vague because it’s non-committal… it’s vague to make you go “ooooh”… it’s vague to make you not understand and shut your ass up…

I need this guy in my life.  I need to be pushed… he said I was getting comfortable and I’m adaptable… fuck… I totally am.  Being adaptable has helped me get this far… kept me alive… it’s been a form of manipulation… I adapt to fit in… I fit in to get what I want…

He shared the following with me from The Big Book of AA, chapter 5, pages 60-61 and it, uh… nails it.  I’ve bolded the part I most 100%-ly fucking identify with… and I thought no one had ever used this tactic before… lol.

Being convinced, we were at Step Three, which is that we decided to turn our will and our life over to God as we understood Him. Just what do we mean by that, and just what do we do?

The first requirement is that we be convinced that any life run on self-will can hardly be a success. On that basis we are almost always in collision with something or somebody, even though our motives are good. Most people try to live by self-propulsion. Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show; is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery and the rest of the players in his own way. If his arrangements would only stay put, if only people would do as he wished, the show would be great. Everybody, including himself, would be pleased. Life would be wonderful. In trying to make these arrangements our actor may sometimes be quite virtuous. He may be kind, considerate, patient, generous; even modest and self-sacrificing. On the other hand, he may be mean, egotistical, selfish and dishonest. But, as with most humans, he is more likely to have varied traits.

What usually happens? The show doesn’t come off very well. He begins to think life doesn’t treat him right. He decides to exert himself more. He becomes, on the next occasion, still more demanding or gracious, as the case may be. Still the play does not suit him. Admitting he may be somewhat at fault, he is sure that other people are more to blame. He becomes angry, indignant, self-pitying. What is his basic trouble? Is he not really a self-seeker even when trying to be kind? Is he not a victim of the delusion that he can wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this world if he only manages well? Is it not evident to all the rest of the players that these are the things he wants? And do not his actions make each of them wish to retaliate, snatching all they can get out of the show? Is he not, even in his best moments, a producer of confusion rather than harmony?

Our actor is self-centered-ego-centric, as people like to call it nowadays…
Crap… I have to check my motherfucking motives like every fucking word I speak… type.  Sir or ma’am used to be a Texas-raised politeness… now it’s fake respect and means nothing.
I love being able to link this shit together… the thoughts I have and write down are soon to be discoveries that I hope to link and learn from.  Here we go…