Add another resentment to the pile

Mercury must be in retrograde again. Like it always is.

All my technology is having issues. I have a back up drive for everything: my music, movies, pictures, and resume. It died this morning, and I don't have some of that stuff anywhere else. I know, I know. Stupid. I should have two drives to keep the important stuff on. At least I have my resume at work, but the movies are all on that drive. Michael is trying to fix it, but it's still blinking red.

My phone is dying, too. It went white screen on me, and the battery only last about 30 minutes before it dies. I was talking to my dad last night, and it completely cut out halfway through the conversation. Sometimes if I turn it off and let it rest for a minute it recharges a bit, but that didn't happen this time. With my plan I can go get another phone, but I'm pretty sure you don't get the good deals when you're just renewing.

My computer is also having issues, but it's mostly the internet. It also likes to die on me. And my mouse died earlier in the week, though Michael fixed that, too. It's nice to have techie friends.

So this might be an expensive month. I'm getting the next installment in my back piece (tattoo), which should run me about $400. If I have to get a new phone and drive, I'm going to be wiping out my bank account. I don't make enough money for this shit.

So I'm adding another resentment: technology. It sure can be helpful, and it sure can be frustrating.

In another life

Today is Jerry Garcia day, in recognition of his birthday.

I was a huge deadhead when I was a kid. I loved the Grateful Dead, and went to two shows while he was alive. The first show, I was 13 and went with my dad. We were sitting in a closed stadium, way up at the top, and all the pot smoke was coming our way. We sat there in the cloud, and eventually even my dad was dancing.

The second time was at Giants stadium in New York. My friend Nathalie and I went with her mom (I think I was 15) and listened intently to the lyrics, even though by then you couldn't understand a damn thing he was saying. The opening act was Bob Dylan, and he was even harder to understand. I didn't realize at the time that that would be the last time I would see him.

I went to a program for gifted kids (I don't know how I got in) in Pennsylvania when I was 14 and again when I was 15. It was a summer program full of arty and nerdy kids. I had a blast, and that's when I first smoked pot (with a counselor in the woods). All of my art was centered around dead bears and Jerry. I even did a portrait of him in chalk.

All I wanted in the world was to buy a Volkswagon bus and follow the dead. I planned that when I was 16 I would drop out of school and follow them for 2 years, and then get my GED. And then Jerry died in August of 1995, when I was 15. I was devastated. I was still in PA, and I heard it on the radio. They had been playing dead songs all day, and I was rocking out with my little AM/FM radio that I carried everywhere. I didn't understand why, until they announced it in the middle of the day. I had to leave class, I was so distraught.

I went to a little field in the middle of campus with two other deadheads and we sat and cried and told stories of concerts and tapes we had collected. I had all the albums, and many show tapes. We supported each other, and smoked a lot of pot.

So happy Jerry day, everybody.

Resentments

A lot of people talk about their prejudices coming into the program. "You weren't like me," they'll say. Or, "You don't look like me." People have found that the longer they were in the program, the less they had that black and white thinking.

One man this morning talked about how he had disdain for anyone who couldn't discuss philosophy with him. Another talked about how he couldn't relate to anyone who hadn't been shot or in prison. Sometimes I feel like I can't relate, but only because I haven't done those things. I've always been pretty accepting, except I hated bad grammar and bad driving. But those things, too, are black and white thinking.

I need to rid myself of those things that cause even the littlest resentments, even if I think they aren't resentments. Many talk about how they thought they didn't have many resentments, and then went on to write 30 pages of step four. Others say if you write more than 3 pages you're bragging.

I wonder what my fourth step will hold. I know I have resentments against my family. I definitely do against my grandfather, who wouldn't save me from my mom. In fact, he encouraged me to be her caretaker. He didn't even warn my dad that she was crazy even when they were married.

But what in the world can I do but forgive him? And that's a good step - forgiveness.

Get sober for me

From Post Secret
I liked this secret. I worried about that when Adam got sober, that he would quickly find someone else and would lean on her in order to get sober, and resent me for not being able to do that for him. He found someone relatively quickly, but he'd been sober for (I think) a year.

Man, I was so jealous. I almost hated her, and I didn't even know her. He was supposed to come back to me! He was supposed to fix himself and then come find me saying, "Look! I'm better! I can show up in your life, now." He had an odd way of showing up before. He would be there for me when crisis struck - he was awesome in crisis - but day to day living was different. He one time screamed at my boss on the phone about what a jerk he was (he was an ass.... Not Adam, the boss.), and was so drunk I had to rip the phone from him. He also had trouble putting me before that next drink or the next smoke. It was always more important than I was, and I was often heartbroken by his choices.

But he didn't. We remained friends, though he kept her and I apart, for good reason. She hated me because of Adam and my close relationship. I don't blame her. She was right to be worried. I loved him, still, and he loved me. I kinda feel bad for her that I caused jealousy and resentment. I hope she never had me on her fourth step list.

And now, we're great friends. He made his amends to me, and I accepted. He's been much more present with me now. He is still a little ADD, but can show up when I need him. He still has an amazing habit of calling or showing up when I'm in crisis. It's like he knows. I'll always be grateful for that.

Searching for something

"The next week, a bunch of us went camping, and we brought cases of beer. We finished it all. The others drank a lot, too, but I was the one who woke up in the middle of the night and started wandering around the countryside by the light of the moon. I was the one who walked fr miles searching for something. I know now what I was looking for. Unlike the rest of them, I wanted another drink." Flooded with Feeling, Personal Stories, Big Book.

At first, as a child, I would wander around in the woods behind my house, or I would walk the neighborhood in the middle of the night, looking for something. I didn't know what.

Then, when I was older I would often wander away from parties or people. I always used to wander when drunk. I tended to end up in the bushes, ditches, or the empty lot behind the bar just searching for something; looking alone into the dark.

I also liked to get into fights with people and then stomp off home, no matter how far it was. I often walked home from bars just to say, "I'll show you!" I remember Adam following me once or twice, trying to get me to come back. Poor guy. He really put up with a lot. That's going to be one hell of an amends when the time comes. Maybe I'll have to start getting him better Christmas presents.

And often when I was alone in my apartment and the bars were all closed, I would wander over to the neighborhood store in search of something. I usually thought I was going in there to get bacon for my hangover, but I always got another bottle or two of wine and went home to finish them. My alcoholic life was always searching for the next drink. Unlike some people I know, I could avoid the good wine in my house in favor of something cheap. I always felt like I wasn't good enough to drink the good stuff on my own. I knew I was an alcoholic and would just finish a bottle without putting any thought into it. There was no point in drinking the good stuff and not appreciating it.

And now I'm wandering again, but I'm searching for that something of my childhood. Perhaps, it's faith. I've always been a seeker of faith, but now I know I need it. I need to have that something that will take care of me, because I obviously have trouble taking care of myself. So let's just hope I can find what I've been looking for, and never again look for it at the bottom of a bottle.

The capacity to be honest

"What's different about serious mental conditions, though, is that the illness strips some victims of the ability to realize they need help - or even to know they are sick. Brain diseases such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder can attack parts of the brain responsible for self-awareness and insight. The disease itself makes the person believe that nothing is wrong." SFGate

Ok, I don't like the "victim" part. It's not a demon possessing us, it's brain chemistry. I'm not a martyr, I'm just... I can't think of a good word.

"There are those, too, who suffer from grave emotional and mental disorders, but many of them do recover if they have the capacity to be honest." How It Works

This part bothers a lot of folks with mental illness. "We're not stupid," I've heard them say. But we do have special circumstances. We are often impaired by our own illnesses into thinking we're not really sick, and that if we just stop drinking our troubles will go away. But that's not the case. Your mental illness (as long as it's properly diagnosed) is here to stay. It's not a matter of wishing it away. You need to realize that you are powerless over it, just as you are over alcohol, and that you need help.

So sometimes our brains can fight against our self-awareness, which is a great part of the steps - especially step four. You have to take a look at your resentments and character defects, which can be difficult if your memory is fogged by years of untreated illness, or even by medications, which can cause confusion.

But I believe we have the capacity to be honest. Just because we don't often remember everything doesn't mean we're not trying. And that's all you have to do: try. Just accept that it might take you a moment longer than other folks, but you can do it. We can do it together.

You're so fucking sober!

Adam likes to say this a lot when he does something that's super plan related. "I went to a meeting, hung out with other alcoholics, and read the big book," he'll say, "I'm so fucking sober!"

Well, looks like I'm getting there, too. Today I read As Bill Sees It, twice, Daily Reflections, and went to a meeting. I talked to other alcoholics and will email my sponsor in a minute. Wow. This plan really sucks you in!

I know people call it a cult, but it's super helpful. They don't ask you to do anything; the steps are but a suggestion. The whole program is a suggestion. It seems to work best when you do what they say, but you sure don't have to. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking. The only thing you HAVE to do is not drink. Meetings, readings, and other people are only the icing on the cake. They're what helps me stay sober, at least.

But I still have urges, sometimes. I promised myself if I went to a meeting I could get frozen yogurt (I wanted to take a nap instead), so I left the house with my ATM card, which I normally just leave with a buck. I have to walk past two bars to get to the meeting, and each time I passed I thought, "I'll just go in and order a beer and stare at it. I won't drink it." But I know that's my disease talking. It wants to take back over. It's sick of this spiritual shit, this not drinking "experiment." It wants to drink with the rest of the people! It just wants us to be "normal" again.

But I was never normal. Normal kids don't start drinking so young. Normal kids don't drink to excess and black out in their 30s. You should know better by now, right? Smart kids don't drink and drive. So I'm going to be a smart kid from now on. I'm on the straight and narrow. I haven't taken a drink today, and for that, I'm grateful.