Bipolar Disorder: Also known as manic depressive disorder, a psychosis characterized by alternating periods of mania and melancholia, or mental depression.
A few weeks back a friend of mine who is bipolar experienced some visual hallucinations and checked himself into the psych ward of a local hospital. I drove down to visit him one afternoon which is something that I wasn't all fired up to do. I'm not motivated to do anything that doesn't directly benefit me in the short term. But you people have taught me to behave as if I give a shit about someone who isn't me, because it's the right thing to do. We're all about doing the next right thing in this program.
A locked psych ward is an interesting place. Someone has to come out and unlock the door to let you in, obviously, because the whole place is locked, being as it's a psych ward. After they let you in, they lock the door again which means now you're locked in, too. Then they usher you into a visiting room, which has to be unlocked, and after you enter they lock you in there. I was really locked in. I was not getting out of there without some serious help.
My buddy was fine. He has an illness which can be controlled with medication and he's aware when things go awry. I asked him about his floor mates. "Lot of attempted suicides," he said. He thought for a minute, then mentioned a man and a woman that I know in A.A. who suffer from a more severe form of bipolar disorder. "People like Dick and Jane, when they're not on their meds," he explained.
I'm never thrilled to see Dick and Jane at meetings. Sometimes they're fine but sometimes they're all over the board. Their thinking isn't clear, or it's uncomfortably weird. Dick and Jane aren't scary or violent; they just dance out on the fringes of normal behavior from time to time.
"I'll tell you something else," my friend said. "I've had people from The Program in here constantly, and I don't think anyone else on the floor has had even one visitor. I didn't think that sounded fair.
I ran into Dick at a meeting recently. I walked by my friends and talked to him. It wasn't an interesting conversation. I don't enjoy my time with Dick. But it felt important to make the effort. I'm going to assume that when I was new and oozing all kinds of toxins that everyone was totally thrilled when I cornered them after a meeting.
I'm going to assume that.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Egocentricity
Egocentric: Viewing everything in relation to oneself.
Yesterday I sat down with my most trusted advisers and agreed with their recommendation that the grass needed to be cut. I'm pretty conservative when it comes to grass-cutting, worrying that the time is Not Yet Right. I'm afraid that I may cause lasting damage to the world ecosystem if I cut the grass Before Its Time Is Due. I'm careful not to rush into anything. The council pointed out that mid-shin was indicative of excessive height.
I took out my trusty lawnmower and headed out to the front yard. I live on a busy street. An extremely busy street. When you are standing on the sidewalk it's hard to hear anything over the steady roar of cars, trucks, emergency equipment with sirens wailing, long convoys of motorcycles, WWII vintage aircraft, and the occasional submarine clanging along. I lowered myself painfully to mower level and primed the engine. I don't know what I was looking at when I did this. Probably nothing. I'm so busy thinking about myself most of the time that I'm not especially aware of my surroundings. Probably I was watching the traffic or some 15 year old jogging by in shorts.
When I started the mower I heard a shriek behind me. I turned around and saw a woman with a dog jogging in place. The woman was jogging in place, not the dog. I don't think dogs can jog. "Oops, sorry," I shouted over the roar of the mower. She moved past me, then turned around and started vigorously jabbing her index finger in my direction, with purpose. "You looked right at me!" she yelled. "You looked right at me!"
I didn't say anything, just kept cutting the grass. I'm in A.A. I'm used to dealing with insane people. Not long ago I would have cut the engine and screamed right back, using some colorful language. That made me feel bad so I tried to reason with these insane people, which never worked. That hurt my feelings so I started ignoring them. But still I couldn't stop internalizing the fear and guilt when someone was mad at me. I would carry it around all day. "Why did that person do that?" I'd think. "She wasn't being very reasonable."
Today I figure that I made a mistake -- and not a bad mistake at that -- and apologized immediately. Maybe that woman had all kinds of bad stuff going on. It's easier on me if I try to bend over backwards when I deal with difficult people. Life can be tough and most of us don't have a spiritual program and lots of friends to rely on.
It made me think about how egocentric I am with the world. I always think that people are doing things at me. I had to laugh at the woman's reaction. It was based around the presumption that I saw her, then deliberately tried to block her progress with a piece of operating machinery. Wow, talk about assuming the worst of a pretty benign situation. The facts were I wasn't thinking about her at all. I was thinking about myself which is, as I have pointed out, far and away my favorite topic.
Yesterday I sat down with my most trusted advisers and agreed with their recommendation that the grass needed to be cut. I'm pretty conservative when it comes to grass-cutting, worrying that the time is Not Yet Right. I'm afraid that I may cause lasting damage to the world ecosystem if I cut the grass Before Its Time Is Due. I'm careful not to rush into anything. The council pointed out that mid-shin was indicative of excessive height.
I took out my trusty lawnmower and headed out to the front yard. I live on a busy street. An extremely busy street. When you are standing on the sidewalk it's hard to hear anything over the steady roar of cars, trucks, emergency equipment with sirens wailing, long convoys of motorcycles, WWII vintage aircraft, and the occasional submarine clanging along. I lowered myself painfully to mower level and primed the engine. I don't know what I was looking at when I did this. Probably nothing. I'm so busy thinking about myself most of the time that I'm not especially aware of my surroundings. Probably I was watching the traffic or some 15 year old jogging by in shorts.
When I started the mower I heard a shriek behind me. I turned around and saw a woman with a dog jogging in place. The woman was jogging in place, not the dog. I don't think dogs can jog. "Oops, sorry," I shouted over the roar of the mower. She moved past me, then turned around and started vigorously jabbing her index finger in my direction, with purpose. "You looked right at me!" she yelled. "You looked right at me!"
I didn't say anything, just kept cutting the grass. I'm in A.A. I'm used to dealing with insane people. Not long ago I would have cut the engine and screamed right back, using some colorful language. That made me feel bad so I tried to reason with these insane people, which never worked. That hurt my feelings so I started ignoring them. But still I couldn't stop internalizing the fear and guilt when someone was mad at me. I would carry it around all day. "Why did that person do that?" I'd think. "She wasn't being very reasonable."
Today I figure that I made a mistake -- and not a bad mistake at that -- and apologized immediately. Maybe that woman had all kinds of bad stuff going on. It's easier on me if I try to bend over backwards when I deal with difficult people. Life can be tough and most of us don't have a spiritual program and lots of friends to rely on.
It made me think about how egocentric I am with the world. I always think that people are doing things at me. I had to laugh at the woman's reaction. It was based around the presumption that I saw her, then deliberately tried to block her progress with a piece of operating machinery. Wow, talk about assuming the worst of a pretty benign situation. The facts were I wasn't thinking about her at all. I was thinking about myself which is, as I have pointed out, far and away my favorite topic.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
$2
A few years back I started to give a couple of bucks to any down and out person who asked, and SuperK has followed suit. Maybe it was her idea first, I don't know. I never shy from taking public credit for any good deed, even if it's not mine. Especially when it's not mine. Keeping it to yourself is stupid. What's the use of doing something nice unless everyone knows about it?
I rarely gave money when I was drinking. I was too suspicious of the motives of others. I was afraid that someone was going to take advantage of me. Plus, I couldn't spare any money that could be well spent on drugs and alcohol. This attitude was to be expected -- I spent so much time lying and manipulating others that I couldn't imagine a world where everyone else wasn't doing the same thing. I mean, think about the scam, it's brilliant: dress in dirty clothes and stand in the rain choking on exhaust fumes at a highway off-ramp to collect some change. I'm sure these people are going back to their mansions in the best areas of town to dine on caviar and champagne, all on my nickle.
I don't like the idea that the money might go for drugs and alcohol, either, but today I'm not so sure of that. I figure if you're a drunk and you're using, the best outcome is for you get to the end of your journey as quickly as you can, whether that's making it to A.A. or making it to the graveyard. For me, either of those options was better than slowly strangling to death with my disease.
I learned this in A.A.. I look around my meetings and see people who I have known for years and people who I've seen sober up. And then there's the sliver of folks who are just starting. Not to be blunt about it, but their prospects aren't very good. They probably won't stay sober. I bounced in and out for months before I got any adhesion. The regulars at my meetings would have been perfectly justified in saying: "I'm not going to waste one minute on you, you liar." Instead, they bent over backward, time and time again, to make me feel welcome.
Maybe this time the $2 is bus fare to get that guy to treatment or to his son's house for a clean bed and hot meal. Maybe this time something I say to the new guy makes sense, and he finds a meeting tomorrow night.
You never know.
I rarely gave money when I was drinking. I was too suspicious of the motives of others. I was afraid that someone was going to take advantage of me. Plus, I couldn't spare any money that could be well spent on drugs and alcohol. This attitude was to be expected -- I spent so much time lying and manipulating others that I couldn't imagine a world where everyone else wasn't doing the same thing. I mean, think about the scam, it's brilliant: dress in dirty clothes and stand in the rain choking on exhaust fumes at a highway off-ramp to collect some change. I'm sure these people are going back to their mansions in the best areas of town to dine on caviar and champagne, all on my nickle.
I don't like the idea that the money might go for drugs and alcohol, either, but today I'm not so sure of that. I figure if you're a drunk and you're using, the best outcome is for you get to the end of your journey as quickly as you can, whether that's making it to A.A. or making it to the graveyard. For me, either of those options was better than slowly strangling to death with my disease.
I learned this in A.A.. I look around my meetings and see people who I have known for years and people who I've seen sober up. And then there's the sliver of folks who are just starting. Not to be blunt about it, but their prospects aren't very good. They probably won't stay sober. I bounced in and out for months before I got any adhesion. The regulars at my meetings would have been perfectly justified in saying: "I'm not going to waste one minute on you, you liar." Instead, they bent over backward, time and time again, to make me feel welcome.
Maybe this time the $2 is bus fare to get that guy to treatment or to his son's house for a clean bed and hot meal. Maybe this time something I say to the new guy makes sense, and he finds a meeting tomorrow night.
You never know.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Johnny Law
I'm really fascinated right now by the concept of The Law. I'm trying to tease out the differences between Johnny Law, The Law of Yahweh, and the good, old clear-cut, common sense Laws of Life. Those Laws that never bend an inch.
I get my hackles up when I'm given a list of Things That I Must Not Do. I'm not crazy about suggestions of how to properly behave, either, but I really don't like to be told No. Take the 10 Commandments, for example. They all make perfect, logical sense but I can't get past the "command" part. How many of us would have gotten sober if Bill and Bob had come up with The 12 Commandments of A.A.? I get all rubbery just thinking about it. We even say that The Steps are "suggested." You don't have to do them. You can come up with something else. Can you imagine "suggesting" that Thou shalt not kill? You can kill if you want to, but it hasn't worked out well for most of us, but, please, go ahead and do whatever you think is best. We don't have all of the answers.
When I was drunk and unhappy, I railed against god, as if he was responsible for my plight. I believe god set up the whole operation, pushed the Start button, then took a smoke break. The Laws of Life are there to follow or ignore as I see fit. I was one of those people screaming at the usher who wouldn't let me into the play I showed up late for, as I stood under the sign reading: "Latecomers seated during first intermission." The usher didn't make the rule. Why was I screaming at the usher? He was handy, that's all.
I like analogies. They make hard concepts simple. They make me relate. I remember my mother telling me not to stick my fork into an electrical outlet. I did it immediately, of course, got shocked on my ass, and was furious at my mother. I ignored the Fourth Commandment of Electricity: Thou Shalt Not Stick Conductive Metal into An Electrical Outlet While Holding on to Same Metal. It wasn't her fault that I got shocked. It was my fault. I spent my drinking years treating people poorly and wallowing in self-centeredness and had no friends. Then I was pissed at god because I was lonely.
Well, no shit, Sherlock
I get my hackles up when I'm given a list of Things That I Must Not Do. I'm not crazy about suggestions of how to properly behave, either, but I really don't like to be told No. Take the 10 Commandments, for example. They all make perfect, logical sense but I can't get past the "command" part. How many of us would have gotten sober if Bill and Bob had come up with The 12 Commandments of A.A.? I get all rubbery just thinking about it. We even say that The Steps are "suggested." You don't have to do them. You can come up with something else. Can you imagine "suggesting" that Thou shalt not kill? You can kill if you want to, but it hasn't worked out well for most of us, but, please, go ahead and do whatever you think is best. We don't have all of the answers.
When I was drunk and unhappy, I railed against god, as if he was responsible for my plight. I believe god set up the whole operation, pushed the Start button, then took a smoke break. The Laws of Life are there to follow or ignore as I see fit. I was one of those people screaming at the usher who wouldn't let me into the play I showed up late for, as I stood under the sign reading: "Latecomers seated during first intermission." The usher didn't make the rule. Why was I screaming at the usher? He was handy, that's all.
I like analogies. They make hard concepts simple. They make me relate. I remember my mother telling me not to stick my fork into an electrical outlet. I did it immediately, of course, got shocked on my ass, and was furious at my mother. I ignored the Fourth Commandment of Electricity: Thou Shalt Not Stick Conductive Metal into An Electrical Outlet While Holding on to Same Metal. It wasn't her fault that I got shocked. It was my fault. I spent my drinking years treating people poorly and wallowing in self-centeredness and had no friends. Then I was pissed at god because I was lonely.
Well, no shit, Sherlock
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Spiritus Frumenti
Spirit: Real meaning; true intention; a pervading animating principle, essential, or characteristic quality, or prevailing tendency or attitude.
Here's the opening paragraph of an email I received today: "As you are well aware, we have spent this entire year allocating resources where they can provide the best revenue return to the company." First of all, the original note was dated August 28th and today is, I might point out, October 3rd. This would indicate to me that I'm not front and center with this organization. I'm not in the front and I'm not in the center. I believe I'm in the third balcony, obstructed view, next to the men's room.
The letter continues: "In that spirit, I am announcing . . . " followed by some uninteresting gook. What spirit would that be? The spirit of sacrificing people for corporate profits? The spirit of not giving a shit about anything but the bottom line? Look, I understand that business exists to make money but can't we at least pretend that there's a little something more going on? Somebody should teach this guy how to write a letter. He was probably the snotty kid sending a note to Aunt Blanche thanking her for the ugly socks.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Here's the opening paragraph of an email I received today: "As you are well aware, we have spent this entire year allocating resources where they can provide the best revenue return to the company." First of all, the original note was dated August 28th and today is, I might point out, October 3rd. This would indicate to me that I'm not front and center with this organization. I'm not in the front and I'm not in the center. I believe I'm in the third balcony, obstructed view, next to the men's room.
The letter continues: "In that spirit, I am announcing . . . " followed by some uninteresting gook. What spirit would that be? The spirit of sacrificing people for corporate profits? The spirit of not giving a shit about anything but the bottom line? Look, I understand that business exists to make money but can't we at least pretend that there's a little something more going on? Somebody should teach this guy how to write a letter. He was probably the snotty kid sending a note to Aunt Blanche thanking her for the ugly socks.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Kon-Tent-Munt
Contentment: The state, quality, or fact of being contented; a satisfying or being satisfied.
I'm in a good spot right now. It's kind of freaking me out. I'm going to have to think up some scheme to wreck everything. I'm more comfortable with chaos and pain. I know how to manage things when I'm going down in a ball of flames, pieces flying off, the whole structure coming apart. Alcoholics, we're good at problems. Contentment is a whole 'nother story.
Every now and then I hang in a place where I'm content with what I have. My stuff seems pretty interesting. I'm happy with my stuff and my circumstances right now. I don't need anything else and I'm not particularly afraid that someone will get in and mess with what I have. This will change, of course. I'm not an idiot. Ironically, I have a couple of big things going on that would have been grounds for murder not long ago. Today it's like: "Eh." I don't have the energy to pound my little fists of rage.
Maybe I'll pick a fight with SuperK. That always spices things up.
I'm in a good spot right now. It's kind of freaking me out. I'm going to have to think up some scheme to wreck everything. I'm more comfortable with chaos and pain. I know how to manage things when I'm going down in a ball of flames, pieces flying off, the whole structure coming apart. Alcoholics, we're good at problems. Contentment is a whole 'nother story.
Every now and then I hang in a place where I'm content with what I have. My stuff seems pretty interesting. I'm happy with my stuff and my circumstances right now. I don't need anything else and I'm not particularly afraid that someone will get in and mess with what I have. This will change, of course. I'm not an idiot. Ironically, I have a couple of big things going on that would have been grounds for murder not long ago. Today it's like: "Eh." I don't have the energy to pound my little fists of rage.
Maybe I'll pick a fight with SuperK. That always spices things up.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Instant Karma
Karma: The totality of a person's actions in one of the successive states of his existence, thought of as determining his fate in the next.
More insanity.
When something bad happens to me I'm sure that I deserve it. I assume that I did something wrong and I'm being punished for my actions. I'm never surprised when things go south. It seems to be in the natural course of life for bad, bad stuff to happen. I expect it. I almost enjoy it, these difficulties. And this is despite the fact that bad things don't happen to me all that often and I exaggerate the bejesus out of them when they do. "Oh, no! Ohmigod! It's raining today and I bought a carton of eggs with a broken egg in it! Why do bad things happen to me!"
Woe, woe, woe.
Even more perplexing, when good things happen I figure I don't deserve them. I feel guilty, like I'm driving a stolen car. I'm afraid that the good things are going to be snatched away by a cruel and vengeful god, toying with me and enjoying it very much. So I'm not very appreciative of the good things I have, preferring to ignore them most of the time and wondering why I don't have more. You can dump a $100 in my lap and I'll bitch that it's not more.
Guilt, guilt, guilt.
Anyway, I'm pretty sure that The System isn't set up like that. Good things and bad things are going to happen. It's inevitable. However, there is a karma out there, I believe, which does seem to reward us for right thinking and crack our shins when we're selfish. And the rewards don't often show up as things but with a sense of purpose and belonging, a feeling of contentment and all that crap.
Next time, I'm going to look at the eggs first.
More insanity.
When something bad happens to me I'm sure that I deserve it. I assume that I did something wrong and I'm being punished for my actions. I'm never surprised when things go south. It seems to be in the natural course of life for bad, bad stuff to happen. I expect it. I almost enjoy it, these difficulties. And this is despite the fact that bad things don't happen to me all that often and I exaggerate the bejesus out of them when they do. "Oh, no! Ohmigod! It's raining today and I bought a carton of eggs with a broken egg in it! Why do bad things happen to me!"
Woe, woe, woe.
Even more perplexing, when good things happen I figure I don't deserve them. I feel guilty, like I'm driving a stolen car. I'm afraid that the good things are going to be snatched away by a cruel and vengeful god, toying with me and enjoying it very much. So I'm not very appreciative of the good things I have, preferring to ignore them most of the time and wondering why I don't have more. You can dump a $100 in my lap and I'll bitch that it's not more.
Guilt, guilt, guilt.
Anyway, I'm pretty sure that The System isn't set up like that. Good things and bad things are going to happen. It's inevitable. However, there is a karma out there, I believe, which does seem to reward us for right thinking and crack our shins when we're selfish. And the rewards don't often show up as things but with a sense of purpose and belonging, a feeling of contentment and all that crap.
Next time, I'm going to look at the eggs first.
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