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A little Test

Blake'sTyger — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 19:12:26 GMT

So the interview went at least decently. We'll see what happens. I think it went really well, but one never knows until the results are in.

In the meantime, I read something in the forums that makes me want to try to embed a YouTube video.

And since there's an old spiritual that I'm enamoured with at the moment, here it is:

"If He Changed My Name"

Just a test.

A Job to Do.

Blake'sTyger — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 14:17:11 GMT

I'm a sober non-smoker.

I love saying that.

I have a job interview this morning, and thank God-- I'm working hard at two jobs at the moment, and it's not covering my living expenses. This is due to things like having a lease I can't get out of and a car payment reflecting the mileage-overage from my previous lease.

I've quit smoking. Expense lowered. I've quit drinking. Expense lowered. I carry a water bottle/canteen instead of buying bottled water. Expense lowered.

But this morning I have an interview. This job would pay me $1 less per hour than my current job, but pays commissions. I was number one in my department in volume and number two in percentage in August, and am likely to repeat my performance in September; and while I'm glad to know I'm doing a good job...it does not help me pay bills or get out of debt. Having a job where performance is rewarded with more than a pat on the head would be a godsend. And this job is half the distance from my house as my current job! It's not a long commute anyway, but ten minutes instead of twenty on the road sure ain't a bad deal!

So I'm posting this to start the day. Need to suit-up (and clean that suit, for starters), shower, shave, and look my most handsomest and businesslike.

Oh God, Higher Power, if this is your will, please let it be. And if not, then so be it. I'm submitting my will to you as I'm taught to do in the third step...but it's not exactly a secret that I'm REALLY hoping your will includes a better paying job...

David

Breathing

Blake'sTyger — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 03:37:24 GMT

Today was day four of being a non-smoker.

I'm still happy, but still struggling. I'm determined to remain a healthy person who doesn't smoke.

But whoooa, have I been messed up the last two days. I am not a moody, irritable person....I am not a negative person....but I've met people over the past two days whose head I wanted to tear the flesh off of, chew to a mush in front of them, and feed to my dog. Yes, it's been intense.

I actually don't want a cigarette. Not at all. Perhaps it's because of the hypnosis program which actually got me to quit this time. I DON'T want to smoke...but I also really don't want to feel this way any more.

Silver lining: Not even THINKING about alcohol or drinking.

So tomorrow begins my first full work-week as a non-smoker. Wish me luck.

David

Quit Smoking

Blake'sTyger — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 03:19:46 GMT

As of today, I'm a non-smoker.

Withdrawel is a #()$*@ right now. Really. Really.

Earlier today I was a little jittery, but happy with my decision. Right now it's so, so hard. I never want to have to quit again. That's why this time I'm sticking to it. I never want to have to quit again.

I'm screaming, crying on the inside. I'm not going to say I can't do it. I CAN do it. I know this for a fact. But the addiction is telling me 2903 reasons why I need to break. Why I need to just smoke for another couple days.

But no. I'm done. These cravings will go away. Hopefully soon. Because this is really f*cking with my head right now.

Shyness is Nice, and Shyness Can Stop You

Blake'sTyger — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 08:18:45 GMT

-Removed by Dave-

Krazy

Blake'sTyger — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 05:11:41 GMT

If I don't write this, I'm going to drink. Tonight.

I just took a thirty day chip at my Sunday night meeting. I have thirty-five days.

I'm afraid that if I stop writing, indeed if I get up from in front of this computer, I'm going to go out and by beer or wine or SOMETHING.

I'm restless as all hell. I can't seem to stop bouncing my leg up and down. **** **** **** **** **** **** ****.

I don't know how much of this is in my head, but my perception is that my trouble started night before last. I've had horrible trouble sleeping lately. Indeed, that was always a big part of my motivation to drink-- knocking myself out for the evening.
So night before last I took a low-dose Ambien from someone, thinking that would allow me to get an early and restful night's sleep.
WRONG. I woke up yesterday morning with an eerie, uneasy feeling. It started coming back to me that I had NOT gone right to bed after the sleeping pill had kicked in. My old cell phone was sitting on my coffee table. I checked my current cell phone, and sure enough-- I had looked up old numbers on the old phone, and made calls.
From midnight through twelve thirty or so, I had called nearly every marijuana connection I have ever had in this area. Luckily I only connected with one of them, who could not help me. THANK GOD. I nearly drove impaired in the middle of the night to hook up pot, spending money I simply cannot afford to spend, and yet again throwing away the little sober time I have.
My. Leg. Is. Still. Bouncing.

What do I do? I haven't felt this anxious or tempted to go get boozed up ...in a long time, at the very least.

I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't.

I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and admit that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol.

Why is this suddenly so much MORE difficult than it was? Why is the itch so strong that I metaphorically want to scratch myself through to the bone?

Breathing....breathing...breathing...

Time to pray. A lot. A lot.

Dave

I'm a Creep

Blake'sTyger — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 04:13:43 GMT

I continue on in this catch-22, hap-hazard and exhausted way. The only good thing I'm feeling right now is the fact that I'm sober tonight and will wake up sober tomorrow. I'm trying to find some solace in that.

I'm working a job for which I'm overqualified. A job that does not cover my bills, let alone my debts. I work a second job and end up eeking by on money from my family in order to survive. I was given an award at work this morning...two awards, actually, for monthly acheivement in my position. I'm glad to know I'm doing a good job, but it doesn't help me pay my rent. I can't very well tell the electric company or my landlord that I met 100% of my client's goal, or that I was the top in the department for the month...so could they please back off while I try to scrape a payment together.

I'm trying to find a job in the field I want to be in. I'm trying to get my Peace Corps application in. I'm making what feels like no progress.

Today I was showing a woman on my team some of the aspects of the particular client we're working on, and we got to talking. We're both from this area originally. She asked where I finished school, and I told her. She asked me what my major was, and I told her.
Her response was, "What are you doing here?".

Indeed, I think to myself all the time-- What the Hell am I doing here? What am I doing? Trying to not come in to work still half-drunk in the morning. What the hell am I doing here? Trying not to lust after every good looking woman in my department, including the one asking the question. Wishing I had a life outside of work. Wishing I was closer to where I wanted to be. Wishing I'd never developed this F*CKING drinking problem to begin with. Wishing I had more of a spine.

Wishing I was special.

WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?! I DON'T BELONG HERE!!!

But I'm just a creep. Albeit a sober one, at least today. And, God willing, tomorrow.

Again, that's the only solace I've got right now. I can't drink now-- sobriety feels like the only thing I've got going for me.

I know this is a pity party I'm throwing here, but it felt good to get it out.

Now to pray, to bed, and to work tomorrow; and using the long weekend to figure out how to get to a better place.

Dave

No Joke

Blake'sTyger — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 03:13:46 GMT

Every once in a while I'm given a reminder that this disease is not something to be taken lightly, and not something to f*ck around with.

Even at nearly thirty years of age, I sometimes find myself with that old teenage attitude of invincibility. Sure, I can't drink...but if I did, nothing AWFUL would happen...
but it damned well could.

Today I learned that a young man who graduated from my high school one year after me, who I knew through a friend's sister, died of a heroin overdose this past friday. He was a nice cat, good natured and generally kind. Apparently he was also using heavy duty narcotics. He was a talented amateur music producer and a fairly gentle soul. I'm sad to hear about his death, his family's loss, and to see the heartache being felt by his closer friends. And heroin...what a waste. What a total f*cking waste.

A line has to be maintained in the sand. I will not cross. I will not take the unnecessary risk of picking up a drink again.

Appreciate those around you, and be thankful for what you have. Make the best possible use of each moment you're given...which for me, means never letting a moment be spent reaching for a drink.

David

Note and a Poem

Blake'sTyger — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 01:13:52 GMT

I'd tried to post a thread from home the other night, just to say "I'm back", but my computer has what seems to be the herpes-meets-chlamydia of computer viruses. Ie, it's nasty and won't go away.

I'm sober, I'm determined, I'm doing it one day at a time, and I've actually started going to meetings close to my apartment AND meeting the people there. ACTUALLY making sober friends and building what my sponsor calls a "picket fence". I heard a rad speaker last night who was actually first sponsored by a sponsee of Dr. Bob. Pretty cool.

So with sobriety (and a lack of sleep, and caffeine) comes back my ability to write. This is rough, and halfway done, but I wanted to post it anyway. It IS, eventually, about alcoholism-- I ran into an old kind-of acquaintance yesterday, who was dropping serious "ask-me-out" hints. But she's a drinker (possibly seriously-so) and I'm relatively newly sober. Thus, I know, it's a no-go. Thus:

Aphrodite, Once Removed
In a market, just outside of Cypress,
I came upon a mortal Kypris;
And as we met along the aisle,
I was enraptured by her smile,
her placid eyes, her gentle face,
her warm, supple and soft embrace.
Her golden skin. Her golden hair.
A dress, like liquid, hanging there.
And as this Aphrodite spoke,
the heart within my chest awoke-
-pumped blood burnt with Eros' arrows,
and filled my bones with boiling marrow.
And though her nape begged to be kissed,
-just as her thighs, her lips, her wrist-
the gods compell me to resist-
-Anguish! How can I, mortal, resist?!

David

Back, Tonight

Blake'sTyger — Wed, 13 May 2009 05:15:36 GMT

I've been going to meetings off and on...had wracked up a little time and then went out.

Went out by accident, but then there are no accidents. When someone at a small art opening hands you a freshly baked cookie, you don't expect it to have pot in it.

But then again, I'd let myself get too close.

What bothers me is this: My first thought upon finding out that it was a weed-cookie was not to throw it up, was not to call another alcoholic, and was not to pray. I didn't figure out the next meeting I could get to.

No. My first thought was: "Well, if I'm out...I might as well be all the way out".

THAT'S HOW FOXING CRAZY I AM.

But I'm back, and have been back for a small amount of time. I woke up sober this morning and am sober tonight. I will worry about tomorrow when it comes.

I just heard someone speak at a meeting, and it sucked the air out of the room. I won't relate everything he had to say, because I couldn't articulate it in the same way nor do I think it's appropriate to tell someone else who's in recovery's story. But I will say this much: everyone who'd been struggling, who'd been having a rough go of it, sat there thinking "Wow...you sunk my battleship...".

When someone says, "One year from now, I'll either be taking my one year chip or something else. I have about a 10% chance of being there to take a chip, about a 30% chance of sitting in (prison), and 60% chance I'll be dead", at first it hits me as melodrama. But no, not like this. I sat there thinking, "Holy cats and dogs...this guy's right".

I also had that old alcoholic feeling-- "Well, I'm not as fouled up as this guy is..."
...which was followed my an echo from the back of my head...
"YET".

Choices have to be made, lifestyles need to be adopted, and programs need to be worked completely and steadfastly. I must be in it to win it, because the promises and all the rest are absolutely divine...and the alternative stood in front of me tonight, looking very much like the incarnation of Hell.

Glad to be back, for anyone reading-- I have no idea how much posting I'll be doing, but I HAVE gotten your messages and really am extremely grateful for this site and all the wonderful people in it.

Dave

In the Middle of an Anxiety Attack

Blake'sTyger — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 01:05:40 GMT

I'm trying to talk myself down from my metaphorical ledge. I'm shaking right now, and I don't have a full explaination as to why.

Tonight, in about two hours, I plan on going to a meeting in my hometown for the first time. At a place dedicated to AA, which is known as a very good place for meetings. I don't know if I'm afraid of seeing someone I know, or if I'm afraid of declaring myself to my local population, or what. I do suffer from aspects of social anxiety generally...I don't know if my fear is about going out drinking again and being afraid that people in my local area will know about my condition and see me off the wagon...I don't know what I'm afraid of. But I'm f*cking terrified right now.

My sponsor's very encouraging. Very helpful and insightful. I'm also afraid of not going and disappointing him.

I've come to the decision that I need to tell some of my closest normie friends about what I'm dealing with. Somehow I'm less anxious about those conversations than I am about going to this meeting.

Right now, I really just want to be able to drink. Alcoholically. Without consequences. I want to get ****** up right now totally and completely and have it not matter. I want things to be easier and less complicated. I do not want to have this disease any longer. I want "I'm okay, you're okay, I'm a drunk, but that's okay...".

I've done no meditating lately. Very little praying. I want peace and serenity without the effort.

God, what to do. God, what to do...

B'sT

The Evaporation of Hope by Tiny Disappointments, Within a Greater Pursuit

Blake'sTyger — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 06:13:42 GMT

Removed.

Fire in the Twighlight Zone...or Twighlight Zone in the Fire

Blake'sTyger — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 17:46:35 GMT

...not sure which.

I'm trying to simply be responsible, to take action in ways which will help me progress, and to be open to what God wants me to do instead of trying to insist on things the way I want them. So far it's going well, though I am not so naive as to think that things will always be up. In fact, many things are not looking up, and I'm sure the hardest days of my life are still yet to come.

I went over the first 1/3 of my fourth step with my sponsor yesterday, and I can see how working that step really opens mental doors. We all have the serenity prayer memorized, but there's something underlying there-- it seems to me that most often the only things we can control are ourselves. Our actions. To some degree, our thoughts. Our attitudes. Our focuses and distractions.

I got home from a friend's dinner party last night, feeling fairly miserable-- without fueling myself up with booze, I'm too shy to flirt with the cute, quiet Russian girl there. To say nothing of the fact that dinner ended and everyone got ready to go out on the town-- drinking, music, dancing, wigs and costumes...and I got ready to go home. Alone and groove-less. Feeling lame.

But I told myself that it is what it is, and reminded myself that I'd be feeling a lot better in the am than they will be. In fact, I'd bet hard money no one in that group is out of bed yet. I got home, and found I had two facebook messages. I figured they were both going to be from the same person-- someone I wasn't in the mood to hear from. Great attitude, huh?

Instead, one was from my crush-across-the-country, and the other was from an old high school classmate who'd always been extremely standoffish and akward. I started with the shy classmate -saving the message I was more interested in for last-. I thought he'd made a mistake while signing up for facebook, as he's just created an account. Turns out not-- there's now a picture up too, and as it goes "he" is now "she". As in, Victor is now Victoria. Wow.
I have to admit, my first feeling was "Why the F do people I know first come "out" of whatever closet they're in to ME!?!". You see, I appear to be the first classmate he's...excuse me...she's told. Then I stepped back and considered a perspective other than my own insecurity-- perhaps people have approached me with their deeply personal issues because they perceive me to be kind, compassionate, and non-judgemental.
Then I took another step back and considered how full of sh*t I am-- I complain about feeling weird around drunk friends because I'm sober. Nothing's particularly wrong, but I'll get inside my own head enough to make myself miss an opportunity to chat up a beautiful young girl at dinner. How unbelievably pathetic!
I cannot IMAGINE what it would be like to feel like I was trapped in the wrong gender. And to be courageous enough to DO something about it! Or to tell anyone -anyone at all- that you felt this way! Holy crap! Suddenly, being the semi-marginalized alcoholic doesn't sound so bad, does it? If a shy kid from school has the balls -and it takes balls as far as I'm concerned- to ask a doctor to flip his junk inside out, maybe I can grow a big enough pair to get comfortable in my sobriety.

Wow. On to the other message. Alright awesome girl I wish I could date, what'cha got? Gender-reversal kid is obviously a tough act to follow.
Well, she didn't tell me anything profound. Only about her weekend, which contains proof of her free-spiritedness and joi de vivre. And then she mentioned that she's going to be back in this immediate area at least temporarily, possibly long-term. I'm pretty sure this bodes well for me-- if she's not interested in me, then I officially cannot read women nor understand them in the slightest and will be becoming a monk upon the first completion of my twelfth step.

I know not to get ahead of myself, to keep my sobriety first, to stay in the moment and just focus on today; but I feel like I got a big message from my Higher Power last night-- stay sober, keep the right perspectives, and stay open, and just maybe some good, positive things can happen. Even if it's just the realization that in the grand scheme of things my struggles and bullsh*t are really fairly small.

Now to today.

B'sT

Rolling the Dice

Blake'sTyger — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 03:11:58 GMT

I want to drink right now. But I can't. And for the first time in a long time, I have a very good reason why. I mean, more than just that whole "not dying" thing.

My favorite poem is by Charles Bukowski. It's a poem I've never actually understood in its entirety until tonight. It's called Roll the Dice. I never paid much attention to the title. I'm sure I've posted it in a blog before, but I'll include it at the end of this entry anyway.

God, I feel like I'm going to be sick.

I cannot continue in my line of work. I've accepted a job which will not quite pay my bills. I was contimplating staying where I am, which is an unhealthy environment and about to become ever moreso. I have a plan to keep myself afloat, but it will require being extremely frugal.

Through facebook I've reconnected with a girl I knew in high school, who unfortunately now lives quite far away. If she was so unbelievably cute in high school, I never noticed it. But not many people were nice to her, and she and I did share a bond of sorts. Emailing with her, I quickly realized that this girl's brilliant, yet has not chosen an easy life for herself. And yet she's completely true to who she is-- I gave her the story of my past years, and she gave me hers. The contrast between the two highlights for me the fact that I have never taken a chance in life. On my health with alcohol, with drinking and driving, sure. But not on anything actually worthwhile. I sound so lame, but I have a crush on a girl who I haven't seen in ten years, who lives across the country.

But that's not what this is about. It's about the fact that Roll the Dice is not just about making a 100% commitment to something. It's about taking a chance and giving that chance 100% of your effort. Everything you've got to give.

Taking this job is a chance, while I look for better employment. I may have an opportunity to sell a very unique and interesting product for a friend's company in the near future, which would be a) exciting, b) an uncertain, very big chance. But I can succeed and succeed wildly if I listen to the wise words of that old, dead alcoholic poet. Give myself real independence and start saving for graduate school.

To embark on even the beginning of this journey I'm about to start means stepping WAY out of my comfort zone...which is exactly what I need to do. I need to remember the wonderful title of the book where that poem can be found: "What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire".

I am going to give myself the freedom to try, and to succeed, and to fail and get back up again. I'm terrified. I'm literally shaking right now. And yet I know that even if I try and fail, things will somehow be okay. After all, they say it's not about how many times you fail at trying something great-- it's about getting up and dusting yourself off one time more. And I'm going to do it, and do it SOBER. Holy, roley poley SH*T.

I think about an old mantra I made up-- "Sometimes in life, you have to steer towards the fire". Then I think about the title of that book.

Oh my dear God of My Understanding. Here I go, steering towards the fire. Now watch me walk.

B'sT

Roll the Dice

if you�re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don�t even start.

if you�re going to try, go all the
way.
this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.

go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you�ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.

if you�re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.

do it, do it, do it.
do it.

all the way
all the way.

you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter, its
the only good fight
there is.

Tyger, Deer, Whatever

Blake'sTyger — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 18:43:33 GMT

I feel like a deer in the headlights.

I only partially know why, but for some reason I'm in a blind panic this morning. I've prayed the third step prayer, and am trying to stay focussed on one thing at a time...but I feel paralyzed.

I need to send out more job applications, resumes. I need to call people who might be leads for jobs. I need to make calls to potential clients. I'm not doing any of it-- I'm just sitting here terrified.

I woke up sick on Saturday, which wasted my weekend. But now I'm much better and need to get to work on the tasks at hand. And yet I feel as if moving the least bit will start me shaking.

This is so unlike me-- I'm usually okay under pressure. I usually handle stress well-- cool, calm, collected.

On a more positive note (?), I want to post this quote I came across in Raymond Chandler's "The Long Goodbye", which I've just started.

"Alcohol is like love. The first kiss is magic, the second is intimate, the third is routine. After that you take the girl's clothes off."

That, to me, is a perfect illustration of my own personal addiction. If, by take the girl's clothes off, you mean devour recklessly.

So that's my silver lining so far today-- a good quote from a great novel. Here's to keepin' on keepin' on.

B'sT