An Elephant Is A Mouse Built To An Alcoholic's Specifications

I surely take small things and make them big things.  I take implausible things and twist them around until they make sense.

I don't have a lot of regret about how my life has unspooled but I do have a tendency to imagine bad shit happening in the future.  Maybe everyone does.  I know this to be true: I hate people who are always happy and optimistic.  Where do they get off behaving that way?

Have A Nice Day Elsewhere.

One of my fellow Grief Group members - a guy from The Program who's in his early seventies - recently recovered from a long and pretty serious infection.  He said that the big revelation, as he was lying in bed pondering the slow pace of his recovery, was that maybe this was the time when things didn't get better.  After all, something is going to kill us eventually.  Maybe this was the thing.

THAT fucked me up for a couple of weeks.

I was joking with my wife's sponsor about my the fact that I imagine every last ache, pain, and hangnail to be cancer.  The Big C.  She laughed, nodding her head, before saying: "Well, cancer does get a lot of us."

THAT fucked me up for a couple more weeks.

I try to take the Long View.
I take positive action when it seems warranted.
I try to repeat positive affirmations.

I hate people who repeat positive affirmations.  Its seems so New Age-y.

Lobster Trap

Trap:  A trick or arrangement designed to catch someone in a more general sense; a snare.
(Ed. Note: What does "in a more general sense" mean?  That a trap is not a trick designed to specifically catch someone?  That sounds like a crappy trap).

Life is definitely a mix between the Long View and staying in the minute.  I know that things work out well over time - despite some ups and downs as I move along.  Over chunks of time the trajectory is up so it's best not to get too caught up in the down cycle.  The down cycle will end.  It's also a helpful reminder that we should enjoy the good times because they aren't going to last forever, either, although this isn't as pleasant a message as the one reminding us that the bad shit is transitory.  When it's good I'd like it to stay that way - when it's not I'm all for change.

And talk to people!  Don't just talk to yourself in your own head!  There's no one in there!!  The perspective of other people can be amazing.  Eye-opening.  I find so often that people have experience with whatever minor problem is currently occupying too much space in my head.  My lobster trap is too much time alone, thinking.  I can get into the trap but I can't get out of the trap.  This is why it's a trap.  I'm a great thinker.  My thoughts are often crap but that doesn't stop me from indulging them.

But the yin to the Long View yang is my favorite and yours: One Day At A Time, a concept that emphasizes, to my way of thinking, that you should work hard at being where you is at.   If I spend all of my time trying to keep perspective on the far distance then I'm not in the minute which is where I actually am.

Do you see the irony here?

Molar #2

Anxiety:  An unpleasant state of mental uneasiness, nervousness, apprehension, and obsession or concern about some uncertain event.  

I realize that we all have our crosses to bear.  Anxiety is definitely my cross.  It has always been the overriding mental state that dominates my existence.  And it doesn't help that it is so indistinct.  I don't so much mind being afraid of something that is fear-worthy.  Some shit is scary.  It's fear over the normal non-scary shit that's so irritating.

I don't really ever remember being much free from anxiety, even as a child.  I don't have especially fond memories of school - any school, from kindergarten through post-graduate work.  I remember being afraid that I was going to fail, that I wasn't going to fit in, and this is despite the fact that I generally succeeded at a pretty high level.  

Uncertainty is the key word in this pathology, I think.  The knowledge that the danger is implausible is not often helpful in banishing the anxiety.  That's what makes it so frustrating.

Then I grew up in a family where warnings ruled the day - appropriate warnings, bad warnings, all kinds of warnings.  There was no filter on the warnings.  A potential danger or disaster could easily be found in any situation.  My mother - god love this greatest of all great women - could see the danger in anything.  The woman would be upset if I won the lottery, imagining all kinds of ways that this good fortune could blow up in my face.  She could ferret out the ferrets in a totally ferret-free environment.

I've mentioned before an unhealthy obsession with my health which almost anyone would characterize as excellent, teeth notwithstanding.  I don't know how people who have serious illnesses and conditions can get out of bed in the morning.  Whenever I have a twinge or an ache I'm sure that it's going to get worse and that it's never going to get better.  I have wasted huge amounts of time worrying about minor aches or twinges that have always gotten better, the late, great Molar #2, god rest her soul, notwithstanding.

(I wonder what they did with the shards of old #2 after they wrenched her from my head?  I should have collected them for a decent Christian burial).

I've taken medicine for my Generalize Anxiety Disorder for years.  Maybe I've become acclimated to it?  Maybe it's time for a refresher course with a professional mind-bender?  I've done it in the past and gotten a lot of relief from the work.

And I have had a few crappy years, losing mom, dad, and Ken H.  Those are some fear-worthy events and fear usually manifests itself with me as anxiety.  Some people get depressed, some get angry, some get anxious.

Something bad is going to happen.  I just know it

Less Thinkin'

Future: Something that will happen in moments yet to come.

You know what?  I don't have the slightest idea what's going on most of the time and I don't have the slightest idea what to do about that.

When someone asks me how I'm doing I usually reply: "Trying to stay out of my own way."  People usually chuckle.  People don't know that I'm not kidding.  I really have no idea what to do about anything.  I get what I want, I don't get what I want, I'm happy about this or I'm not happy about that - in no clear relation to what the reality . . . you know . . . actually is - and the funny thing is I lose interest, in a ball o' confusion, in short order, anyway.  I'm bored with the shit that made me happy and I'm frustrated with the shit that doesn't make me happy and I have no perspective about how this irrational view of my past should impact the illogical possibilities of my future.

No one ever asks me what I think they should do anymore.  I don't think I'm fooling anyone.  I think they're saying, behind my back: "That dude doesn't have a fucking clue, man."  Honestly, people are starting to say it to my face.

I called Willie this morning.  

"How you doin', man?" he said.

I started right in with a monotonic monologue, not bothering to dispense with any social niceties: "My lower back is sore and it's cloudy and SuperK isn't treating me with the respect that I deserve and our president is an idiot and . . .  you had enough?" I asked.

"I quit listening after the second thing, which I've already forgotten," he said.

I'd like to be more consistent in my recollection of the fact that I don't know what's best for me. I am a bad recollector in this regard.  I have very little ability to predict how things are going to work out.  They work out.

I should do more trudgin' and less philosophizin'.

Bleeding Deacon

One of the strengths of The Fellowship is that we don't have any paid positions besides my $223,000 per annum salary as Lord of Recovery.  I still have a resentment about the stinginess of this paltry sum.  I'm glad I have The Steps to help me work through this.  

Anyway, we rely on volunteers to open the doors and make coffee, loosely run the meetings, and clean up afterwards.  We call this Service Work, or You Do It Because I Don't Want To.  Here in Vacation City we have an individual who serves as the secretary of each of the seven morning meetings.  The secretary hands out readings and gets a leader each day, someone who speaks briefly to establish a topic.

Here's my problem: the commitment is for the period of one year.  I've never lived anywhere that had a position last more than 12 weeks (12 Steps - get it?) and most places figure a month is long enough.  I've always believed - and it's my personal experience - that commitments get people involved in the meetings, sometimes serving as an unofficial cattle prod to encourage regular attendance so these incredibly long time frames mean that only seven people get to serve over the course of a year.  That's not too many people for a group that probably has a hundred regular members.

So I get the bright idea to bring up at our monthly business meeting the suggestion that we pare this back to 3 months.  I do this with full knowledge that it won't go anywhere even though it's a brilliant idea.  Most people are resistant to change and alcoholics absolutely loath it.  We could be sitting in a burning building, debating whether or not to leave, and half the group would want to table the idea until everyone got all of their skin burned off.

I was at dinner with three of my closer friends in recovery here - men who have Programs that I respect, thoughtful, open-minded men.  As we wrapped things up I thought: "Why don't I float a trial balloon here to get a feel for how virulent  the opposition will be in the official business meeting?"

Well, it didn't go very well.  In fact, I managed to generate a little less than 0% support for the idea.  I mean there wasn't the slightest whiff of support for the idea.  I believe the comments began to take on a dismissive, mocking tone - the guys seemed to be enjoying the piling on process.  Granted, I hold my opinions in high regard and don't like to be mocked openly but still.  The general consensus seemed to be that I wanted to take on a service position but didn't want to commit to a whole year which wasn't the point at all.  I was forced into a defensive posture immediately and had to defend my turf against an unrelenting attack, which made me aggressive which means I got pissed and started to counterattack, employing exaggeration and prevarication as my primary means of defense.

The problem with someone like me, an analytical, linear, arrogant person, is that I think my ideas are irreproachably brilliant and I really struggle when my idea is the better . . . you know . . . idea.  A group of recovery experts could hold a three day conference on why 7 service positions per year is better than 28 service positions per year without ever getting me on board.

Anyway, the business meeting in on Saturday and I'm not going.  :(

Actually, I was glad for the feedback.  Nobody wants to be told how to fix something that's working just fine.

Spandex, Redux

I have been off my writing game the last few weeks.  This either means that things are going incredibly well or just the opposite.  I'll let you make that call.

To celebrate this re-emergence I'm going to dedicate the entire post to dictating, word for word, something that is going on in the life of my friend Spandex, something that he shared with me in the greatest, most secret-ist confidence.  

Oh, wait, I just lost interest in that.

Actually, I've been thinking about how important it is for me to take the long view.  I too easily get caught up in what's in my head right now, certain that the way things are at the moment is never going to change when, in fact, change is the only thing that is certain.  That, and incoming salvos from SuperK.  Those are pretty regular, too.

Somehow I have to make sure my belief that staying in the minute, being where I am, is the best way to get through life in one piece lines up with this knowledge that I have to have some perspective, future-wise, with the ever-changing nature of my life.  A lot of Yin and Yang in this Fellowship stuff.  It makes my head get dangerously close to exploding if I think about it too much.

I like the idea of visualizing a trek up a steep, rocky trail, the goal being to get to the top of Mt. Not That High.  I don't want to spend all of my time staring at my feet plodding along, with all of the rocks and everything.  Every now and then I need to look up to see where I'm going to end up, the goal, the treat, the pay-off, otherwise it's just rock, rock, rock, etc etc.  But then again I can't be looking up all of the time or I'll trip over a rock or fall off a ledge.

Little of this, little of that.

Two Big Books

Whenever I'm asked to be the speaker at a speaker meeting I do a little prep work: reading through some of my favorite passages, jotting down reminders of some of my most cherished jokes, deciding on the relative appropriateness of personal anecdotes.  These notes are often in my journal but I also use slips of paper, old envelopes, and the like.  It's interesting to me to see how some themes come up over and over - it makes clear the fact that there are some behaviors wedged inside me but good, and I'm not very successfully in my attempts to purge them from my being.  They go in okay - it's the getting them out that causes problems.

Anyway . . . . 

"We shall claim that our serious character defects, if we think we have any at all (got to love that qualifier - we're in Step Four at this point and the author is suggesting we may not even be at the point where we admit to ANY defects), have been caused chiefly by excessive drinking.  Our present anxieties and troubles, we cry, are caused by the behavior of other people - people who really need a moral inventory (in other words - it's not me: it's you).

Let's expound, shall we, on the idea that the best defense is a big offense . . . 

"The moment we ponder a twisted or broken relationship with another person, our emotions go on the defensive.  To escape looking at the wrongs we have done another, we resentfully focus on the wrong he has done us."

Oh, yeah, baby.  To recap: I DO ... NOT ... LIKE ... LOOKING AT MYSELF.

I have been rereading the Big Book of my childhood religion, a tome I made it through several times when I was still drinking and one I have avoided since I've been sober for reasons that are unclear even to me.

Here are my thoughts . . . 
It's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.  There is a good chunk of solid spirituality in there.  Not stuff I would associate specifically with this religion, either, but would attribute to any religion or philosophy that is striving to promote a spiritual way of life.

There's a lot of history in there, too, much of which I find pretty dubious factually.  Not lying dubious but convenient dubious.  I suspect that most religions try to lure in people by slipping in some stuff from their religion.  Selling out, compromising, negotiating, call it what you will.

A lot of time is spent talking and talking and re-talking about how important it is to believe a certain way if one wants The Ultimate Heavenly Reward upon one's death.  If you've already bought into the specific concept of your chosen religion it gets boring hearing over and over and re-over how important that concept is.

And there is, of course, some shit that I find deeply offensive.  So be it.  It's not like I swoon over every share at every meeting I go to.

I'm digging the re-read.  I'm also going to shelve the book when I'm done.  I get it.  I'm going to read something else.  You're preaching to the choir, you know?  One of the things I learned in sales was that once you got the order then just get the fuck out of there.  Don't give the buyer a chance to rethink his excellent decision to buy your shit.