Pondering the Matrix (Journal Entry)

I was born to be invisible. Like the stump of a sofa that gets tripped into and cursed then forgotten once again. I always wondered what it would be like to have loving, doting parents. Would I have grown to be such a loser?

Sometimes I wish I was anybody but me. Then I look at everybody else and wish I were just plain dead. Because if I were the happy type, I’d be oblivious to the world that enslaves me in a bubble where my greatest defense against reality is to push the ‘block’ button. And if I were born with a silver spoon I’d be as rotten as a carcass.

Step One: Getting out of my own way (Journal Entry)

Is there a wrong way to heal? When I say it like that it doesn’t feel so bad. People keep telling me not to isolate, talk to someone, go to a meeting. But the less I think about the pain the less I want to punch someone’s head.

Everything gives me bad memories. I find myself avoiding such triggers everywhere I go. I never want to go back to that place. Of helplessness, of isolation so consuming that I don’t even have my own thoughts to keep company.

The Miracle (Journal Entry)

If I had a million dollars I could finally set me free. I would have the independence I never thought I’d see. I would wake up every day without a worry on my mind as I accomplished all those little things I often toss aside.

Step One: Cleaning House (Journal Entry)

When I exited rehab I had a new sense of order in my life. I was on schedule. I woke up every day at seven o’clock, showered, dressed, made my bed, cleaned my room, made a to-do list, read some daily reflection and wrote in my journal. Most importantly, I attended meetings and maintained a fellowship with recovering addicts. 

The Living Vine (Journal Entry)

The light at the end of my thorn garnished path seems to get a little brighter as I give it more slack. As I grow a little higher I get a little less cold. My vine is creeping up past that shade hanging over.

And I’m alright and I’m okay, and I’ll do fine as I cross fate. These thorns can’t stop my climb or snatch my fruits before they ripe.

And I will slither through the holes, slip right past the shards and stones. As my branches cross the wall, a perfect painting starts to grow.

Another seedling starts to hatch. A baby bird finds food to scratch. New life makes a home in this journey I have tolled. 

Super Nova (Journal Entry)

Guilt, shame, blame. I go through the motions then go back to bed. I can’t turn back and I can’t move forward. This pain in my gut is boiling over.

Fool me once shame on you. Fool me a thousand times and I lost my point of view. How many times can I endure your love? The bane of my existence is my surrender to your…

I… Can’t… Breathe when I think of all the times you shat upon my heart. Maybe this time it sounds a lot better but what is better what all you know is hurt? And I hate the way I feel most times. No words can fill that cup. I drink then I get drunk then I plant face into the dirt.

Step One: Powerlessness (Journal Entry)

Upon much contemplation over what powerlessness means to me I have reached the fullness of my conviction. I struggled with powerlessness the first time I got sober because it was easy for me to stop drinking. If I was powerless over alcoholism why was I able to quit with such ease? It wasn’t until my resentments came to a boil that I gave way to a nearly two-year run of binge drinking and blackouts.

Letter to Rehab Donors

The following is a letter I wrote for a newsletter at the sober living house where I am residing…

Step One: The Pink Cloud (Journal Entry)

Last time I got sober I went through the Pink Cloud Syndrome, which lasted for ten months and ended in broken windows and a trip to the psych ward followed by a devastating relapse. At the time I was unaware of the pink cloud. I didn’t find out about the pink cloud until 1 1/2 years later when I entered rehab. 

Step One: Denial (Journal Entry)

“How dare anyone tell me I have a problem. I have been wronged. I have been mistreated. Everyone on the planet is a complete moron. I’m sick of being told I need to wait on the sidelines and accept the fact that I am doomed to destruction because everyone else has a problem. If I am forced to eat everyone else’s shit then I’m gonna drink while I do it so you can save the wagon for someone else…”

My excuses for drinking could go on and on for days…