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Wednesday, October 8, 2008

I learn to play the part...

The bus arrived on a misty Saturday morning at the bus terminal a few blocks from Dealey Plaza. My Mother and her hulking, brooding husband were already waiting for me.

(Mom was afraid if they weren't, I'd go get drunk. I had to laugh...I was stone cold broke and really had no intention of drinking...she didn't need to worry. At least not yet.)

She looked me deep in the eye when we hugged, and I knew she knew where I had been.

Her husband asked me how the trip was, and I told him it was fine. I don't think we said anything else to one another for the entire day.

We got to the house and I immediately took a shower and had something to eat. Then we went to a meeting. Just that simple.

However, I had lost my identity somewhere along the way. While I never really knew who I was and chameleoned into whatever group I wanted to belong to, from now on, I was my Mother's son, and that was how I was introduced at meetings for the next year.

My Mother had been sober for quite some time, was very active in recovery, and was a circuit speaker, traveling to recovery conferences and giving her talk. I was the 'little boy in the trailer' in her talk (that started the weepers in the group every time. )

And now, here I was all grown up in recovery too. How fucking wonderful.

One may think I was ungrateful. Well, one may be correct. I was in this dog and pony show, well scrubbed and sober, tap dancing as fast as I could, while smiling at the right people, and saying the right things in meetings, (that's Patty's son...yes., the one in her talk) and I was using my Mother as a sponsor. Note to anyone seriously wanting to get sober...not a good idea.

I wanted to get screwed up again but knew I couldn't, so I white knuckled it, and smiled, and pretended to pray.

Landed another job waiting tables, saved a little money and bought a '63 Triumph. I painted it midnight blue and picked up women at the restaurant bar. (I had to bring them back to Mommy's house-very uncomfortable-but she had a pool, so it was a plus, I guess.)

I was learning I was a natural observer and that it kept me at the edge of things. Too close equaled pain, too far equaled isolation and bad craziness. A balancing act to be sure.

I've balanced that for quite some time, now, and I still do it. I can learn what you want me to say, what's necessary to pay the rent, while I watch you, the things you do (sometimes actually in the name of God-which really slays me) and I incorporate what I can use, and write about the rest.

The time with her taught me to stay half in the shadows and half out, walk that line...and try to stay out of the deep shadows.

In the deepest shadows I am not alone.

2 comments:

recoveryroad said...

Never alone, matey.

Thanks for dropping by my place - always welcome.

Kenny
London

Geoffrey Hill said...

Nice to know...even if it is across the pond. Thanks pal, drop by anytime. Geoffrey

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be anymore...so now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it stays...in the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.


Thank you all...