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Wednesday, September 24, 2008

The deep end beckons...

I called a friend in the city and he came and picked me up. No questions asked. The Tennessee Williams line about the 'kindness of strangers' rang in my head. I got out with what I brought, minus a little self-esteem.

I still had my job and our mail boy at the office, a small, gay, Asian kid with a big heart would bring me dim sum from the Chinese place next to his apartment. He said it would heal a broken heart.

(The following year he went to New York City on vacation. He was cornered in an alley and beaten to death. No rhyme. No reason. A wonderful soul, released to the universe while his body lay broken in someone else's garbage.)

I stayed with my friend until one night he got drunk, started crying and professed deep feelings for me. Holy shit. Not what I needed. When I told him that, he turned vicious...hell hath no fury like a broken down queen.

My boss helped me find an apartment.

I started to drink again. A quick one at lunch, then deep breaths until five o'clock, then home and flagons of red wine. All was well until I looked out my bathroom window at the adjoining apartment roof one morning, maybe eight feet away. A man was standing on his roof, staring into my bathroom while he masturbated.

That'll unnerve ya before coffee. (Lesson learned...close my blinds.)

Why me?

Then I got a phone call at work. My Father was having open heart surgery. He wanted me to be there.

My first thought was not of him. It was not of my family.

It was I had to go home, and I would not be able to drink.

I shuffled through the mental Rolodex and hit upon the solution.


Once again, it was a good idea at the time.

Overdrawn at the First Karma Savings and Loan...I didn't even get a toaster.

Karma. The playing card stuck in the spokes of the wheel of life. Every revolution it makes, it comes back around and smacks you in the head.

And then you learn to duck.

This was one of those times. Realizing I was the simpleton she was using to take care of her kid and pay half the rent, while she screwed her boss on his oversized mahagony desk made me physically sick. I called her on it. Of course it went badly, how else could it have gone?

The tears mixed with the instant breakfast version of denial to make a warm, gelatinous mess we both had to wade through to get to the truth.

So I said it. Instant regret. "What about us?" Oh yes, my denial was firmly in place. And then she returned the serve.

"There is no us...I'm in love with my boss...that's who I think of when you hold me." She cranked up the volume on that last part. Unnecessary, I thought, just twisting the blade a bit, I suppose.

Just goes to show...cut the crust off a shit sandwich and serve it to me on a doily...I still have a shit sandwich.

She actually thought he would leave his wife for her. Too bad. (I heard later she got fired, not too long after I left.)

"yes a withdrawal, please....small bills are just fine." Point, match.

Game over.

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 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 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...