I Got Nothin'

Some times I ain't got jack-shit to say, ya feel me?

I made an amend today to a neighbor who had begun to freeze me out.  As a general rule that kind of stuff doesn't bother me.  He's a nice enough guy but not too advanced in his interpersonal skills so if he doesn't want to come over to my porch and bother me when I'm sitting outside reading I somehow will be able to soldier on.  I may have been a little hard on him a while back and I suspected that he may have copped a resentment about it.  Again, fair enough.  I'm way past the everybody has to like me stage of my life.  That being said I don't have carte blanche to be an asshole . . . well, actually I do have carte blanche (literally "free check") to be an asshole but I don't want to make someone feel uncomfortable.

His response to my query was so: "I know you have a short attention span so I'm just giving you your space."

I almost laughed.

SuperK: "Yeah, you have a short attention span with him."

Don't run from fear and anxiety.  It's part of me.  It isn't trying to hurt me.  It simply has a message that it wants me to hear.  One of the hard things is being comfortable with the hard things.

I'm still in flux with LSD boy.  It's something trying to decide whether someone needs a pat on the back or a kick in the ass.  I guess I tend to be a lover rather than a screamer.

Have a Cuppa

Imagine:  To believe in something created in one's own mind.

All of the angst in my life spent worrying about medical issues that have never materialized.  Perhaps I would be better off not undergoing these tests that have a minuscule chance of picking something up.  The worry and stress imagining a bad outcome - is it worth it?

I realize the risk here.  I'm not stupid.  I'm an idiot but I'm not a stupid idiot.  If one of these irritating tests show a disease that isn't displaying obvious symptoms and I get this disease and get sick as hell . . . THEN it would be worth it.

Clearly whatever I'm doing with caffeine isn't working.

Caffeine may increase heart rate, body temperature, blood flow to the skin & extremities, blood pressure, blood sugar levels, stomach acid secretion, and production of urine (diuretic).  People may experience dizziness, hypoglycemia, fruit-like breath odor, troubled breathing, muscle tremors, nausea, diarrhea, increased urine, ketones in urine, drowsiness, thirst, anxiety, confusion, irritability, insomnia, changes in appetite, dry mouth, blurred vision, and cold sweats.

Yowser.  That's a lot of shit, although I don't see why a "fruit-like breath odor" is a contraindication.  No one has ever complained that an odor of fruit is coming out of my mouth.  They have complained about many other things coming out of my mouth but not a fruity bouquet.

"Man, Seaweed, you smell like apples."

That's so much shit that I wouldn't be surprised to see a warning that continued use could lead to seizures, paralysis, and possible death.

The WHO recognizes caffeine as an addictive substance.  Coffee trails only water as the world's most consumed liquid.

Seaweed - Sargent At Arms

So I've been elected as sort of a Sargent At Arms enforcer-of-the-rules type guy at my morning meeting.  The vote, in an extremely small quorum of just me, was One "Aye," Zero "Nays," and Fifty "Not Presents."  Hooray for me!  It's unanimous again!  Everyone wants me to run the show!

I'd like to say that I've gotten more bitchy and crotchety as I've gotten older but that would be inaccurate - I've always been pretty bitchy.  What has happened is that I'm much more comfortable running my mouth when I don't like what's going on because I don't really care that much what people think about me anymore.  From people-pleaser to dick, the transformation is complete.  I'm glad I come across as mild-mannered and easy-going - another huge deception successfully completed - so I don't have a lot of forceful enemies.  At least as far as I can tell.  I haven't gotten beaten up after a meeting yet.  At least as far as I can tell.

That being said I do take some responsibility for what goes on in a meeting.  This is, I think, I hope, a thing I can bring to the group.  We have unspoken rules of courtesy and procedure that need to be enforced from time to time and who better to do it but me? Because I've been around a while I've seen a lot of stuff go on that should have been stopped long before it went on for too long but wasn't, and I'm not often in the mood to let it go on.

"OK, I've seen this before," I say to myself, before shushing someone or escorting an unruly person out of the meeting.

This morning it was cell phone usage during the meeting.  It's hard for me to believe that this rude behavior needs to be commented upon but cell phones are like second legs for some of us and some of us are new enough in our adult lives to forget that we have to behave like adults.

I sat in the back row at the meeting, which I rarely do.  There were three chairs wedged into this little wedgey area and a couple of guys I know well joined me, and both of them promptly started fucking around on their phones.  Now let's remember that it's 7AM and let's also point out that one of these guys is single and retired, and the other is a largely incompetent real estate guy who almost certainly doesn't have anything important going on in the real estate world at 7AM, not a prime real estate time even for the competent real estate professional.  

One dude ceased and desisted not long after the meeting began; the other dude hung in there through the ceremonial readings - which annoyed me but didn't fall into the outrageously egregious behavior category - but then he hung in there when people began to share. 

I leaned in: "Maybe you should try listening," I suggested, in a whisper.

He leaned towards me: "Maybe you should take care of what's right here," he said, gesturing vaguely in my direction.

OK, fair enough.  My experience when I point out rude behavior to other people is that they're really not . . . you know . . . interested in having me run their lives.  I really don't care about this.  They can go tell their mamas if they don't like it.  They - to a man - have responded angrily, which tells me that I've hit a sore spot.  When someone has a reason for behaving a certain way I get an explanation - when they're not behaving very well and I've pointed this out, I generally get this generic "Fuck off" response.  Don't get me wrong - I get a little hot under the collar for a second but I'm off to something else quickly.

My friend sat quietly for a minute and then disappeared for most of the meeting, reappearing at the end, but sitting down across the room, far from me.

"I think I pissed off Cell Phone Boy," I remarked to my other friend after the meeting broke up.

"Oh, well, he'll get over it," he replied, before adding sheepishly: "I was guilty myself there for a while."

So, good.  He got it.  Don't be rude.  I bet he doesn't text in a meeting again if he's in my line of sight.

I talked to the pissed off guy after the meeting: "We OK?" I said.  He was transfixed by an empty bookcase at the time.  He assured me everything was fine before going into a long litany of reasons as to why his behavior was unusual, that all kinds of important and upsetting things were happening at the moment that required his immediate attention. 

I didn't point out that he could have stepped outside for a minute.  I didn't point out that - with a couple of years sobriety - he could miss the occasional meeting to attend to important affairs. 

I didn't point out that if he wasn't fine I didn't care.

Fucking Tests

I am under the impression that, here in the US of A, somebody is making a lot of money on medical testing.  We do a lot of testing here.  At least a lot of tests are being done on me which is all I care about.  Don't get me wrong - I'm not opposed to the occasional medical test.  Sometimes you have to test some body part or organ or internal area to see if there's a problem or what the problem is and what needs to be done about it.   Fair enough.  I'd rather not have my doctors flying blind.  My problem with the testing is that we seem to be looking awfully hard for potential problems that might not be all that serious.  I'm sure if a mechanic dug around under the hood of my Very Expensive Car he could find something to fix.  Maybe a bad Johnson Rod, for instance.

A couple of weeks ago my primary care doc talked me into this simple test for bowel cancer that came back positive.  I did not see this coming.  The test is inaccurate and frequently wrong which is why I hadn't taken it before but now it indicates a possibility - a pretty small possibility but a possibility nonetheless - that there is cancer present.  And the test to verify this test is a big, messy, expensive, invasive pain in the fucking ass kind of test.

Frankly, I'd just rather not know.  I feel like my car insurance guy has called up and offered me a very expensive rider to my policy that protects me against falling meteors or civil insurrection or damage incurred by charging rhinos.  I say it's reasonable to decline this additional insurance.  I also say in the remote chance that a meteor hits your car you would regret not having the insurance.

So what do you say?  "Ah, it could be cancer but fuck it, I'm not going to get the big test."  That's a hard one to stomach.

Before I head off this afternoon for a consult with my doctor I started on a book that a friend lent me called "Natural Causes - An Epidemic of Wellness, The Certainty of Dying, and Killing Ourselves to Live Longer."  Here's the first line and I am not making this up: "In the last few years I have given up on the many medical measures - cancer screenings, annual exams, for example - expected of a reasonable person . . . "

And later on "Once I realized I was old enough to die, I decided that I was also old enough not to incur any more suffering, annoyance, or boredom in the pursuit of a longer life.  As for medical care: I will seek help for an urgent problem, but I am no longer interested in looking for problems that remain undetectable to me.  As the time that remains to me shrinks, each month and day becomes too precious to spend in windowless waiting rooms and under the cold scrutiny of machines.   Being old enough to die is an achievement, not a defeat, and the freedom it brings is worth celebrating."

Amen.

I'm going to get the colonoscopy, of course.

Recovered? Recovering? Ah, Who Gives A Rat's Ass . . .

Recovered:  To get back; regain; to restore to good life, consciousness, life, etc.

There's a guy at our meeting who's a major ringleader and self-proclaimed provocateur in a weird local controversy we have here in Vacation City about whether or not we call ourselves "Recovered" when we introduce ourselves at meetings.  He prefers to hear "I'm Seaweed, I'm a recovered alcoholic" to the standard greeting that I've heard from everyone everywhere in the entire world for 31 years.

Controversy:  Strife; dispute.  

I'm not even sure "controversy" is the right word.  I am sure that alcoholics like to stir shit up.  I'm not happy if I'm not in the middle of an argument over something that is absolutely not important and about which I could care less.  I just like to mix it up.  And I'm always amused that whenever a forceful personality starts up some shit about nothing there's always a group of groupies who pile on to fan the flames.

His opinion - which he is absolutely entitled to - is that new people are going to be wary of a Program if they think that someone who has been attending meetings for a long time still has the disease.  Most of us consider alcoholism to be like diabetes or high blood pressure - controllable but not curable - but not all of us, obviously.

Eh, maybe he's right, what do I know.  One of the biggest criticisms of Twelve Step Programs is that they don't have a great success rate.  I've heard under 10% from most sources, not impressive in a numerical sense.  Most of us would encourage anyone struggling with their drinking to go out and get whatever help they can get from as many sources as possible.  And I think we have so many members because the other solutions out there aren't that successful, either. 

Funny thing about this guy is that he attends meetings for a year and then loudly proclaims that he is going to take a year off, which he then does.  Another criticism is that Twelve Step attendees have substituted one addiction for another, that we've traded reliance on alcohol for reliance on meetings, and he trumpets this with a lot of smug satisfaction.

Well, whatever.  I have never gotten arrested after a long morning of recovery work.  And if all of the old-timers - the ones who don't say they're recovered - had taken a year off from time to time, depriving me of their wisdom and experience and calm advice, I'd have had a much harder time staying sober.

How about this: don't worry so much about your greeting and worry some more about your behavior.

LSD Boy

LSD Boy sure has me thinking and laughing and thinking some more.  One of the best things about The Fellowship is that it has taught me that I don't know shit about shit about almost anything let alone where other people are concerned.  My inclination is to tell them what to do when I think they're drifting into a dark, swampy forest.  I'm usually able to keep my mouth shut because, really, what do I know?  Maybe their journey is to wander through the moors and find Shangri La on the other side.  Maybe the heroin addict has to OD and almost die to finally realize that recovery is a better option.

I am the director and who tells people what they should do: "The best thing to do would be to sober up and not OD at all."  Seems like a no-brainer but there you go.

"Where I go?"  Jerry Seinfeld.

I find myself reaffirming my strengths most of the time - sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.  I am comfortable telling people what I've done - what has worked for me and what hasn't.  I'm really good with the books, too - I can tell you, more or less, what's in there and what isn't.  I'm not good at predicting future outcomes for other people, however, despite my skill in predicting the future.  Sometimes it seems so obvious and so compelling that I can't keep my mouth shut, but not usually.  I check my motives, take a deep breath, and repeat my mantras.

LSD Boy responded to my how-ya-doin' text yesterday: "Why do you ask?  Is there something specific you're worried about or are you just checking in?"

Sounded kind of defensive to me.  I may have gotten in his head a little bit.

Anyway, he called to talk about his weekend - he played host to an old friend who is still drinking heavily and seems conflicted about it.  None of the stuff that we had discussed recently came up.  I have had this evolving series of discussions in my head about what I'm going to say to him when he says this to me or how I'm going to start this conversation where I say this forceful thing and tell him I can't do this or I have to do that or I don't think he's this, that, or the other.  Blessedly, it always occurs to me that no one did this to me when I was getting sober.  My strengths are listening and sharing my own experiences.  My strengths are not judging and telling people what to do.

I listened and didn't tell him what to do.  Maybe, as he stumbles toward what I hope will be a long and contented sobriety, that his experiences are making him uniquely capable of helping someone else that wouldn't be receptive to my lofty advice.

Drive 'Em Away

So the guy I yelled at for shouting out a non sequiter while I was talking in a meeting a few weeks back has been a no-show since that day.  He has been sober for a while so I'm not worried about him picking up a drink but it's never a good thing when a member drifts off.

And LSD boy has not been in touch with me since I surmised that he wasn't actually . . . you know . . . sober.  He arrived at the meeting quite late this morning - not terribly unusual as he has a 14 year old son on summer break - but he left quickly afterwards and without speaking with me.  I just sent him a text to check in.

That's me.  Some people bring 'em in and some people drive 'em away. 

Got Me Thinking

I absolutely love it when my assumptions about things are challenged, especially my assumptions about recovery.  I say all the time that if you're happy and you're sober then keep doing what you're doing - I can't improve on that.  I say this, mind you, when what I mean is "Do it my way.  The right way."  My LSD-using sober guy has me looking closely at the difference between what I say and what I believe.

I share this fact about my recovery all of the time: I quit drinking and smoking weed because it was killing me, not because I wanted to quit.  I liked to drink and use drugs.  I liked the excitement and the adrenaline, the camaraderie that exists between people who are tearing it up.  I liked trying new types of alcohol and new drugs, going to different bars, living on the edge.  I still get a thrill looking down the beer aisle at the grocery store, aware that it's the biggest, baddest aisle there.

I share the fact that if I could get away with it and have the quality of life that I have now I'd be in my car driving to the nearest convenience store to buy beer, and then heading down to the bad part of town to buy whatever drugs were currently on special.  I mean, c'mon, if the consequence-free choice is going to bed at nine and reading a book until I fall asleep or standing in the corner of a bar at 3AM, drunk, high, listening to some band blow out hard rock . . . That's no choice - that's a slaughter.

I told my guy: "Hey, I'm a fan."  I wish I had the ability to use drugs and not have it lead to more drugs and then to alcohol and . . . and . . . and . . . 

Been there - done that.  Not a workable solution for old Seaweed.