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Friday, December 23, 2011

just a taste...

Chapter 32
People need love.

This time, the idea is so warped and starved I became someone else, someone I would grow to loathe.

For affection. Attention. Human touch.

However packaged they will always confuse the fastest feeling there…confuse it with love.
I received what I missed from not drinking, the feeling of love, warmth, all is right with the world, (which really only happened once,) and I spent the rest of my life chasing it and missing.

I received it by working private parties. For Bachelorettes.

Birthday parties. Girls’ night out.


I found I had worked out too much. Noticed at lunch, approached, and said yes, sounded like fun. I did not hesitate. My ego answered for me. I gave it complete control.

I began acting entirely selfish and narcissistic. I am that normally, but this was abnormal. I slept with many women. I made money.

I did not know who I was anymore.

I ran the string out on this one stone cold sober. Almost 13 months. I can always not drink and use things other than drugs and alcohol to alter my reality and quite often do.

I lasted till almost Spring.

I took a last minute flight to Hawaii with six hundred dollars in my pocket. One way.

I boarded my flight about the same time a Mother I had slept with was finding out she shared this same distinction with her daughter. As was the husband and Father. Two miles from the Airport.

I can imagine that did not go well.

No one knew I was at the airport.

My co-workers at my office job, (the other was just part time) thought I had gone to lunch. I did. Right after I cashed in my terminal leave. I called the taxi from my office.

I had sobered up and started working for a Government entity.
With benefits.

You can understand a drink or two after the seatbelt sign went off.

Friday, December 16, 2011

What you are, we used to be...

It's been six months or so since the last post.
Odd. It used to be a daily occurrence. However, the content of this blog is the basis for the book I am writing.

A book, about me, my life as seen and lived by me. My memories.

They may not be yours.

Any of you.

I have a mere 130 pages so far, as I still have a day gig, my writing time is when I can find it, and it's the most honest effort I have attempted at if not understanding my life, but getting to a place where it could be of value to someone else. If nothing else, a cautionary tale. But it is not a primer on "bad behaviour." Nor a primer on "alcoholism", "addiction" or just being a selfish shit heel. It is simple, my story.

I've been sober almost three years and I find my self completely dedicated to writing this book. I am not a dedicated guy. At anything.

Yet I am focused.

I find myself writing in the weekly Motel where I've taken up lodging. I have every thing I need, as my belongings always were few, so it's a good fit.

Interesting place. Everyone living here, a couple of days, four months, whatever, is on their way to or from something.

Some are settled in waiting for the weird to wear off.

However long that may be.

I keep to myself,ask no questions, am friendly when spoken to, and pay my rent on time. I never have visitors. My made in India, 1980 Royal Enfield motorcycle sits in the first space next to the front door. This is an Indian owned establishment.

To them, I am the coolest American ever. Fathers and Uncles all had Royal Enfields, they say.

I am the Raj.

There is a cost to the dedication I am showing for my writing. It is costing me friendships, as I find I have to relive moments in my life to get them on page, and my behaviour may be affected.

This is not an easy book to write.

There are consequences.

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...