Tag: journal

Enough with the BS

I need to reconcile myself. I need to get my life in order. Overall, I have a pretty great life. But it’s time to tackle some things about myself if I’m ever going to achieve happiness.
Happiness, what is it even? At a cursory glance, I am relatively happy. At least for moments when I am enjoying my favorite activities. Riding my motorcycle gives me great joy, as it often includes good times with great friends. Moments with family make me happy. I am fortunate to have close and meaningful relationships with my children. My Masonic activities are my source of fulfillment and meaningful interaction with others.
Those are moments of happiness. Unfortunately, I spend more time alone than I do partaking in any of the above. I am generally happy around my circle.

However, when I am alone, I am decidedly unhappy.

I used to hate being alone. I now look forward to it. Most assuredley, this is due to my waning ability to tolerate people for extended periods. I like people a great deal, but I have a decreasing tolerance for the antics of many people today. I look forward to retreating to my sanctuary, my “Fortress of Solitude after a long day of peopling. I breathe a sigh of relief when I walk through the door. Getting home is my favorite part of the day.
Until the demons come.

The negative thoughts come at night. It’s unlikely it’s a coincidence that it happens when I get high. Weed has become a regular aspect of my routine. I need to wind down at night, to put the anxiety at bay. Weed is the only thing that works. I will have to deal with the unfortunate side effect of analyzing every aspect of my life, good or bad (mostly bad) for hours on end. For a while, these episodes caused me much duress. But I have come to realize that weed causes my brain to tell me the truth. And that truth is that I have some things to work on. I have come to value the insights gained during these sessions.

I heard a line on TV the other night that reached out of the screen and throttled my neck. “I’m sick of my own bullshit.” An older version of myself would have run from this harsh reality. It caught me at the right moment, at that moment I was indeed sick of my own Bullshit.

I expect to explore that Bullshit in depth.

Man seeking woman. Maybe. I’m not sure

It would be wonderful if I could understand that I don’t need a romantic partner to be complete as a person.

I want one. That is true. More than anything. Having someone to share my life with is the final item on my bucket list. I have recovered my health. I have gotten myself back on my feet financially. I have gotten my own place to live. All that remains is to get another shot at a meaningful and rewarding relationship.

Alas, dating has been a nonstop sequence of rejection and disappointment. It is only my stick-to-it attitude (that dominates every area of my life) that causes me to persevere. In reality, it should be clear to me that it means that I haven’t met the right one yet. But it’s starting to feel like I’m not dateable. To put a finer point on it, I am starting to blame myself for each failed try. And it is taking a terrible toll on my self-esteem. I’m beginning to think that my very happiness is contingent upon being in a relationship. Which is a shame because I actually have a pretty great life.

The most recent one stings a bit. We only went out a few times but we really connected. She was real. She was fun. She was my type. I felt really comfortable with her. On our third date she asked to be exclusive. I came close to dropping my shields and allow myself to feel happy. The next morning, while preparing for our mutually highly anticipated day together, I got a text from her. Family issues came up, she needs to focus on it, can’t do a relationship right now. There was no mention of whether it was permanent or temporary. Because it seemed to be real, I didn’t dig deeper for fear of making it about me. I told her that if things change, to reach out. Damn, I liked this one. But it stings. I have done the usual overthinking. I can’t, for the life of me pinpoint if it’s something that I did. I also don’t have reason to believe that she is being dishonest with me. I don’t know what to think.

But I hurt. The letdown stings. I can’t help but wonder if I should continue in the dating world. Or should I just hand it over to the Universe? To her credit, the Universe has provided every other blessing in my life. The problem is that I look for signs in everything. Am I going to be looking too hard for love?

I really don’t know what to do. Patience is not something I possess in abundance. And I am getting tired of getting kicked in the nuts every time I put myself out there. A big part of me wants to remove myself from the scene. To grow a beard and make myself as unattractive as possible. To push people away for fear of them getting too close. Unfortunately, that is not who I am. I get hurt because I am open and accessible. It’s one of my few redeeming traits.

The good place

I am in a very good place right now. Almost everything seems to be going in the right direction.

My health is good, which is certainly most important. I made a very good decision choosing sobriety in January. I have been sober for 6 months and the blessings outweigh any negatives. What are the negatives, you ask?
I have little difficulty being around alcohol in social settings. Unlike many alcoholics, which I’m not sure I was one, I am not concerned about relapsing. My problem with alcohol was habitual. I feel good about my decision and that keeps the yearning at bay. But it has affected my (perceived?) level of fun when out in the world. Almost every activity I participate in involves booze. I never recognized how much time passes when imbibing. It’s a lot. So hanging at the bar is not really a choice because there are only so many cokes I can drink. Frankly, I get bored. But in the big picture, who cares?
Another negative is that some people think that I, and other non-drinkers, are judging them. Of course, everyone knows that this is pure insecurity about their own consumption. A non-drinker is threatening to some. The truth is, while I have made observations about the effects of intoxication, I’m not judgmental about it. I merely think, “Hmm, did I look like/do that when I was drinking?” So while it can be argued that I’m not having as much fun, I just need to remind myself of the benefits of my newfound sobriety.

In December, my Doctor informed me that I was “pre-diabetic”. That alarmed me to my core. I weighed about 237 pounds at the time. I am a fairly muscular person, but not particularly fit. My doctor had previously told me that he wasn’t concerned about my weight because of my muscular foundation. Yet, my weight was the cause of the Pre-diabetes. This contributed to my abstaining from alcohol.
6 months later I weigh 212 lbs. Exactly 25 pounds down. I am working out regularly and am seeing muscle definition I haven’t seen in years. Everything feels better. I am thrilled with it.

I feel like I have a new lease on life. More later…

The epiphany

If you have read me before, you might know about my struggle with faith. I have grappled with the traditional essence of a loving God for most of my life. I have approached the subject academically. I have immersed myself in Church, feeling like a stranger but nonetheless open to the experience. I have talked to so many people of faith, trying to capture what they have. I wanted it, I really did. That cocksure faith eluded me. The faith in an afterlife, the trust in an all-loving and forgiving deity. The belief that, despite the dumpster fires of life raging all around them, something is waiting for them. I learned to stop deriding and acquired respect for people of faith. But still, it eluded me personally.
I was so adamant in my non-belief that I insisted on a Justice of the Peace marry my wife and me. I raised my children without faith. We never denied them the opportunity but didn’t encourage church attendance. My children knew me as a borderline Atheist. I stopped short of that moniker. Nobody can say for sure that there is nothing up/out there.
That reluctance to commit human arrogance would eventually cause me to acknowledge something. Someone? A supreme being? It was simple. If you can’t say that there isn’t something, then you must be willing to acknowledge that there is. Maybe.

That is where I stood for some time. With a healthy respect for those with faith, I forced myself to be open to the experience. I looked for God everywhere, but not in a building. I came to call my process “Kayaking.”
“Religion is sitting in a church thinking about kayaking. Spirituality is sitting in a kayak thinking about God.
For me, God was the laugh of a child. It was a deer grazing in my backyard. God was a sunset or the smell after a rain.

Earlier this week I needed to get away from the negativity around me. Talking heads on the news expounded toxic tirades on politics. My friends on Social Media being bad to each other over our President. It was too much for me and I made the unusual decision to watch a Christian movie on Amazon. I enjoyed the wholesomeness. It was refreshing. The next night I watched another movie in the same category. I worked out with dumbbells in my room as I watched. It wasn’t long before I sat on the edge of my bed and focused on the message of the movie. Out of nowhere, I began to sob. Head-in-hands, funeral-like sobbing.

I have been reflecting on that powerful yet confusing moment for a few days. I could chalk it up to the subject matter. Those movies are full of themes of loss, personal tragedy, and redemption. But it was more than that. Something broke loose inside me. Dare I say something tried to get out. I don’t know what it is but I feel like I have had a spiritual awakening. Once I come to grips with it, it is an unexpected occurrence to this perennial Kayaker, I have promised myself to welcome it. I will work as hard as I can to ensure that the experience is not lost on me.

I still don’t know what this epiphany means in the big picture. But I have to recognize that almost nothing in my life has ever brought me to my knees. But this did. It deserves some self-reflection.

90 days

I have reached 90 days of Sobriety. For full disclosure, I haven’t entirely given up my nightly indulgence of the “electric lettuce” (weed). This habit makes me what is called “California Sober.” A distinction without a difference.

90 days ago I decided that I wanted to quit drinking. For the past 90 days I have been able to do that.

It was a daunting yet good decision to stop. It’s been a struggle at times but overall my life has improved. Physically, I’ve lost a few inches and feel great. My lab work has been excellent. There is a (small) spring in my step.
Mentally, I am moving in the right direction. Now sober, I have one less anxiety to ruminate. The mental fixation. The self-flagellation that weighed so heavily on me for more years is gone. The fixation was strong, I constantly thought about booze; what type?, do I have enough?, what time should I start? I really enjoy not having that conversation with myself. This raises a question, do I think about not drinking now as I did about drinking before?

Maybe, but it’s a good trade.

Dreams

I was recently asked if I have any dreams I want to realize before I die. When you have dealt with the ups and downs of chronic illness, you don’t have dreams. You have a bucket list. Mine is extensive.

Before I die, and that’s really what it comes down to, I hope to accomplish many things. They range from the very serious to the “that looks fun.” Before I die, I want to;

Go skydiving. There are a lot of reasons to want to do this. However, the appeal to me is primarily about overcoming a great fear. I am terrified of heights. I have nightmares of falling (many people do). Jumping out of a plane will be a brave stand against both. I may go to my grave feeling a bit less of a pussy.
I will likely do this before it is too late.

Go across country in a RV. I’ve always wanted to see America in a Kerouac way. I want to be present, not an observer. I dream of seeing this great country through a windshield. I dream of taking my time. Asking locals where they go to drink and eat. To meet people and learn the small details of their corner of the world. I would love to do this with the love of my life. If not, I will definitely do it with a dog by my side.
This is a doable dream. Although it might be modified to a convertible and motels.

I would like to make a long motorcycle trip. I’ve done trips as long as a few days. I want to do one over a month or more.

Fortunately, I’ve made a strong comeback in life recently. I have crossed many small items off the list. I’ve also crossed a few big ones off.
So let’s move on to the big ones.
I want to find peace of mind. I am tired of the anxiety and the negative thinking. A dream of mine is to do whatever I must do, including therapy if that’s what it takes, to reach a mental place where I can enjoy some of the time I have left in harmony with the world around me. I know this is an odd one, but it really is that important to me.

Here’s the big one. I want to fall in love. It saddens me to say this, but my wife wasn’t my greatest love. I loved her, but there is a feeling I crave that is yet unfilled. I want to meet The One. The person that I think of first when I wake and last when I go to sleep. I want a woman who makes me glad I’m alive. A woman so great that her happiness will always be my greatest concern.

This just occurred to me. I also have a dream of being a man of such great character. I want to be deserving of True Love. That one wraps up nicely.

Understanding Sobriety: Not All Drinkers Are Alcoholics

Today will be my 58th day of sobriety. I can honestly say that my life has been a nonstop improvement since I decided to pursue a healthier lifestyle. And let’s make no mistake about it, being healthier is why I did it.
Why make a point of contention about that? you may ask.
Because I’m weary of people telling me that I’m not an alcoholic.

So many people have been supportive of my decision, but there has been some confusion. Some have suggested that I overreacted by joining AA. They thought I didn’t belong there. They believed it was for people in much poorer condition than myself.
They were correct.
I like AA. I believe it is a wonderful program that has helped millions of people worldwide. But it’s not for everyone. As a Recovery Case Manager, I toed the company line. We were a 12-step program, and I worked them with my clients. Despite many ideological disagreements. I disagreed with relinquishing all control to a higher power. While there is merit to the concept, I believe that we are allowed to be pleased with ourselves. We should acknowledge our own part in getting sober. I don’t believe that only God played a role in motivating us to seek help. We also had our own part in bettering ourselves.
I don’t believe that all addiction stems from significant trauma. Nor do I believe that we need to seek the forgiveness of everyone and everything. There are major events that require reckoning, but most of it is just better left in the past. If you have wronged someone and have the ability to make it right, have at it. Otherwise move on. I know this is a controversial opinion and it’s not intended to come off as harsh as it sounds.
Additionally, while members hate to hear this and will get VERY indignant when they do, some of us are different. You’ll hear it at all beginner’s meetings; if you are there, then you are the same as all of them. In fact, we are not all the same. I will not tumble down a wormhole of depravity if I have one drink. Many in the room would. I don’t need to go to 7 meetings a week to stay vigilant. I can do it on my own.
I don’t need to do the steps. I have few resentments and I have made peace with everyone I have hurt (that I know of) already. Many would be furious at that statement, but it’s correct.
Does my assertion that I am different make me an outsider? Or does it just mean that maybe I’m not an alcoholic? See, there is no room in AA for the person who simply likes to drink. There are a lot of those, myself included. I have a problem with alcohol, but I’m not an alcoholic.

So here I am, 58 days later, and I am benefiting from all of the blessings of sobriety. I feel better. I am making great strides in my physical fitness. I have mental clarity. Most importantly, I don’t beat myself up constantly over my drinking. The self-loathing and feelings of inadequacy are over.

I don’t even know if I want to be completely sober for the rest of my life. There will be an opportunity or occasion that arises in which a drink will be warranted. During this time, having a drink will be appropriate and even fun. Or I will say no with confidence and pleasure because I like what saying no has done for me. In the meantime I will continue to go to the occasional meeting. The people are nice, the atmosphere is uplifting, and it is good for the soul.

But I still struggle with calling myself an alcoholic. I think I’m actually just a guy who liked to drink. I found the resolve to recognize that it was just getting old.

Embrace Your Uniqueness: A Journey of Self-Discovery

I was recently asked what my last blog post would be. I had to think about it of course. I decided to write it as if I was actually well-adjusted at the time of my demise. That makes this an exercise in Creative Writing. Here goes.

Be yourself. No matter what. Then embrace it. 

That is what my final blog post would say. 

I cannot tell you how many blogs I have written about finding and understanding myself and what I stand for. I have always struggled with matters of identity. I could go on for days about my findings on this matter. Suffice to say, I showed up at the party way too late.

I’m glad I got here. However, I surely wasted an irretrievable amount of time, effort, angst, and agony in the process. I told the President of my HS reunion committee something several years ago. This was when I was asked for a quote for the newsletter. I said, “I searched high and low, far and wide for who I am. Only to realize that I was me all along.” 

I never thought I was enough. Or the right thing. Or in the right place. I don’t know why, nothing in my childhood explains it. Nobody has ever told me that I’m not good enough except me. It’s as if I placed other people’s expectations of me without their offer or permission. I think I tried to be who and what people wanted or expected. Sometimes different personas for different people or groups. 

I was big and intimidating. So I acted it. But I’m not tough nor do I want to intimidate. That didn’t work.

I was charming (to a degree) so I acted the part of Ladies Man and Playa. But I like and respect women, I didn’t even like hookups.

I was a decent artist. So I tried to emanate artsy and liberal. Turns out I’m a casual artist and I am not wired to take mushrooms and sing Kumbaya around a campfire.

I could go on. Suffice it to say that despite having varied interests and strengths, not a single one of them defines me. They are merely components of me. The day I realized that was a great day indeed. 

As much as I can parrot the tired line, “I don’t care what people think about me” I do. But not in the conventional sense. 

It matters to me that people know who I am and what I stand for. It matters to me that people know that I am a good person. Sure I want to be liked, but I have recognized that respect or appreciation is what I truly desire. 

I have found that the answer is in the company you keep. Your friends will not only understand your uniqueness. The organizations you attend meetings and events at will also appreciate it. The people you spend time with will too. They will know your quirks and pecadillos.  They will know who you really are and what you stand for.

I am the chocolate box in Forrest Gump’s lap. I come in many shapes and forms. They’re all good in their own way. If some of my pieces don’t do it for you, then leave them and enjoy another. I’m me and you never know what me you’re going to get.

Having made that bizarre statement, the overall point is my recommendation to everyone to just be yourself. If you’re not surrounding yourself with people who appreciate the particular magic you bring to the table…well then find a new circle.

Finding Strength in Sobriety Without AA

At the time of this writing, I am 32 days sober. I have to say, it’s going quite well. Almost too well. I’m not miserable. I’m not struggling. I’m not craving booze and calling a sponsor to talk me off of the ledge. Everything I’ve seen in the movies and TV is wrong.
Actually, I’m not serious about that. I understand addiction. I know alcoholism. I have seen the wake of destruction left by addicts of booze and drugs. My understanding is further validated by my time as a Recovery Case Manager. I know that everyone is different in their story, the severity of their illness and the battles of recovery. We all do it differently with varying results.

Alcoholics Anonymous is not for everyone. A major point of contention is embracing the whole “higher power” thing. Others don’t believe in “turning it all over” to the higher power. They fail to embrace the notion of powerlessness. The first step of AA is to admit powerless over their addiction. A LOT of people push back on that one. That’s probably where I also struggle. I believe in a higher power. I also believe that my life was becoming unmanageable(ish). But I fail to believe that my willpower and strength to commit to sobriety play no part in its success. You can tell me all you want that maybe my higher power gave me the strength. The fact is that I am the one who got myself to the meetings and avoided drinking. It’s not about pride, it’s about accomplishment.

After 31 days, I am starting to think that AA will be a part of my recovery. However, it will not be all of it.

I like the meetings. Contrary to what I have heard from some, meetings are not a depressing place of self-commiseration. To the contrary, the people I have sat with celebrate the program and the manifest blessings it has provided them. These are happy, positive, and grateful people. Additionally, they are friendly and helpful. I will never forget my first meeting. I was greeted, welcomed, and offered phone numbers with offers of support. I have already made many friends. The meetings have been enjoyable and have helped in my having stopped drinking.
But they’re already getting old. It’s the same people and the same stories. I’m not feeling as inspired as I once was. I’m not feeling like they’re helping me. I’m not even sure they are worth the time and lost income. I like them, I really do. I’ll keep going. But I don’t want to do the steps. At least not now.

I’m not drinking. I’m not tempted to drink. I feel better without drinking and I want to keep on. Much to the chagrin of the AA die-hards, AA may not be for me.

This is not an anti-AA post. I have said many positive things about it and I believe in it. It works. I have seen more than enough evidence. I am only pointing out that it is not the only way to get sober. I will continue to discuss this in future posts.

More on this later.

Finding Peace of Mind: My Journey Through Anxiety

Peace of mind has largely escaped me for most of my life. I have dealt with undiagnosed anxiety for a very long time. My particular form of anxiety forbids peace of mind. Of course, I can only speak for myself. The particulars of my anxiety are omnipresent and maddening. 

This makes it confusing why I never sought help with these behaviors. I now know they have severely impacted the decisions I’ve made. Their consequent outcomes are another effect I understand now. While I can’t blame anything in particular, I feel those behaviors robbed me of something. I always feel there’s something else I should be doing. I feel I should be anywhere but where I am. I constantly question and review in my head every conversation and interaction I have. I check to see if I did or said something wrong. I worry about every fucking thing that would never even happen. There is no peace of mind in that.

Then the bottom fell out, so to speak. I lost everything in six months. It was a long period of rebuilding. The only positive aspect was that my life was now about just me. I focused on my ability to survive and rebuild. As part of rebuilding, I needed to tackle my mental health.

I started by being honest with myself. Brutally honest. I gave it legitimacy by creating a blog. It became quite successful. Readers appreciated my story for its brutal honesty. They valued the unflinching analysis of what I was, where I had been, and where I was going. The most notable transformation made through my writing was that I lost much of my anger. I forgave those who didn’t deserve it. I stopped waiting for apologies that weren’t coming. I became accountable for my part in things. I didn’t forgive for the sake of anyone else, I did it for me.

Physically I am well now, but it wasn’t an easy journey. Mentally, I still struggle with my anxiety. I have taken steps to address it. I started by simplifying my lifestyle. I avoid that which causes me stress. I engage in charity. I try to only associate with good people. I am always honest in my interactions. I do my best to be in harmony with the universe and the people in my own little universe. I live an accountable life that allows me to sleep at night.

In the process, I finally found things about myself that I like and I learned what makes me happy. I engage in those things with energy and integrity and wouldn’t you know…I have some peace of mind. In particular, I care less about whether people like me, because I like me.

Finally.