sometimes we have to go back to seeing the world in black and white
It’s a long road to my recovery
when all that’s left are the empty promises
the sun was going down on my life
Christmas had come and gone. I couldn’t remember the New Years’s at all, time had slipped from 2019 to 2020 completely unnoticed by me. It was January 7th 2020 and I had been smashed and broken to another low rock bottom. My life was a slow-motion freight train wreck at the end of the line in a place called Hell. My mind was numb and empty, my soul was tortured by demons of my own making, my body was suffering from a lack of food and too much booze. Part of me wanted to die, part of me hoped I would die, and a small part of me entertained dark thoughts of painless suicide. Walking into the cold North Sea would kill me, but that would mean I had to get out of bed, leave the garret, and walk the hundred or so yards to the beach. That was never going to happen.
But something happened. Call it sheer bloody mindedness, call it being protected by a guardian angel, call it the universal unconscious helping me, but I did something positive. It took a while.
First I got myself out of bed, went to the kitchen counter and poured a half-full bottle of vodka down the drain. Thought about coffee, but I knew I’d throw up. Drank some water, threw up.
Bathroom and alcoholic constipation hurts. Stood under the shower in my filthy clothes and stripped naked there, soaped up some. No chance of my risking a wet shave.
Got dry and left the wet towels in the middle of the garret, on the floor, discarded at random.
Combed my hair, got dressed in clean clothes, even clean socks. Looked at the clock, it was just on half-past-six, and I didn’t know if it was morning or evening, nor did I know what day it was.
Collapsed into my armchair, exhausted and shaking. Sat there for a long time staring at the wall, my mind empty, my soul in pain. I could see scuttling things out of the corner of my eye I knew weren’t real, weren’t there at all. Electric shave.
After a long long while I made myself a coffee, felt like throwing up but didn’t. I knew that somewhere out there someone or something was sending me all good wishes.
My thoughts and feelings were being led by demons down a dark road that only led to bad things, so I picked up my tablet as a distraction. Tried to play solitaire, not enough concentration. Instead I read some posts by the very special people I follow. I read a post by Rhapsody Boheme about The Wolf Moon, and the special things that could happen then ~ transformation, renewal, rebirth….. And here, The Wolf Moon was at 19:21 hrs on January 10th, 2020. I resolved to stay sober until then. Before then I would clean the garret, only demons will enter a place that looks like a pig-sty.
At around 19:15 on January 10th I darkened the garret, lit some scented candles, and put some soothing music on the record player.
19:21 on Friday January 20th, 2020 a sense of peace I had not known ever before in my tortured existence, the music playing was The Memory Of Trees by Enya; the simple vocal refrain on that instrumental track is Be Yourself. It was a profound message, and I knew exactly what it meant.
My life hasn’t been the same since. My life is different and better, and improving day by day, hour by hour, and something or someone is still guiding me. If you are suffering as I was, I know that you can have that too. Nobody with even an ounce of goodness in their soul is abandoned forever.
infinity came for me and lifted me up
recovery is something you have to work at every hour of every day
recovery from a fucked up life is a long road
As I begin to recover from my disastrous and stupid behaviour over the holidays I have been thinking about my life. In truth I am so ill that I can’t do much else than sit and think. If you’re very sick then everything is either difficult or impossible. Add to that crushing depression and you might understand that it’s an achievement for me to be out of bed, washed, shaved, and wearing clean clothes.
My thoughts are slow and faltering, but I believe they are clear, honest, and unafraid to accept the truth. And the truth is I have fucked up, big time, for years and years. I have done almost everything bad you can think of that wasn’t illegal. I haven’t stolen, taken drugs, been physically violent, gotten arrested, lived on the street…..
I have entered into several unsuitable, dysfunctional, and dishonest relationships, all of which ended very badly. I have destroyed some good and honest relationships, hurting the women involved. I did put my stupid high-flying career before relationships, friendships, and real life. I allowed my ego, my wants, needs, and my expectations to rule my life. And for a lot of the time I was drinking far too much.
How do I come back from that?
All I know is that, one day at a time, one hour at a time, I will be sober, honest, open, and avoid any conflicts. I will not build castles in the clouds dedicated to my own ego.
building this now would only be satisfying my need for instant gratification
A sad lonely man, who used to drink a bit. No company in his apartment, not unless the TV and bottle of booze count as friends. No food, no sleep, no fresh air, no exercise. Emptiness, not feeling, not thinking, not even living. Slow suicide, painful degradation, deserved opprobrium. Dionysus or Bacchus ~ drunks by any other name can still stink of stale booze. That’s better than the smell of vomit, regurgitated whisky and bile, Chanel it’s not. All it takes is a perceived slight, another wrong word, another wrong turn, another disastrous depression.
I’ve been there, but not this time.