Robby's Thread II
EndGame
Join Date: Jun 2013
Location: New York, NY
Posts: 4,677
I meant to say that I rediscovered my love of reading in early sobriety the first time around, and I wanted to pick up reading again to help me sleep. But I didn't have the attention and concentration to stick with an entire novel. So I explored short stories. What a wonderful stroke of luck that was for me. I read works by Jack Finney, Anne Beattie and Raymond Carver, himself an alcoholic of the hopeless variety.
I won't go into it now, but there always seemed to be some sort of serendipitous event just around the corner when I got sober. Things that either would not have happened or that I would have completely missed while I was drinking.
I won't go into it now, but there always seemed to be some sort of serendipitous event just around the corner when I got sober. Things that either would not have happened or that I would have completely missed while I was drinking.
Originally Posted by EndGameNYC 
Hi Robby, Melissa.
The last time I was scrambling around in my sheets, I was looking for a blue pill, trying to jump start a different kind of battery.
Imagine that. The most indispensable creation in the 21st Century is batteries.
You know, Robby, you're writing a book here. And such a wonderful book it is, with contributions from people who love you. I'm saving the whole damn thing, and I'm hoping that the final page is not written for several years. You've covered just about every existential problem so far. We should recommend people who are new to SR to read it, start to finish. No, we shouldn't. They should find it on their own. It's difficult for many people to just sit still for five minutes when they're new to sobriety.
I recall that when I first got sober in 1983, I rarely slept and had few tools to distract myself from all the chaos in my mind. I was relieved that I could stop drinking, had few real cravings, but my mind and body were like a burning house. I went to AA meetings pretty much every day, often two or three times a day, and was always relieved to be there. I met a few nut cakes in AA, but the overwhelming membership were people who were serious about sobriety, most of whom had gained or regained perspective and carried a soothing sense of humor. I felt safe for the first time in a very long time.
One night, I decided to stay home and watch the NY Knicks game. They had a decent team back then, and even won the first round of the playoffs. I was less than five minutes into the game when the horns started blaring to signal an emotional meltdown. Prior to this, I was all "I'm okay. I'll be fine. I don't need to go to a meeting every day. Everything's good. Yeah, I'm good." Threw on my jacket and ran to a meeting. I don't know when, but things eventually changed for the better. I worked the Steps with my sponsor, and hung out with people who did the same. Early sobriety my first time around was one of the best times of my life.
Well put. The conviction that we actually have something to lose by getting sober or, more generally, by living a better life, is the foundation upon which individual misery -- which informs a wasted life -- often lies. The sad irony is that risking a better life has actually come to be framed as a risk, rather than a simple option. Take risks while we can. Love deeply. And give freely. The worst thing that can happen is that we'll live one kind of good life rather than another. The alternative is to live a life of cursing ourselves for giving in to our irrational fears. Remembering that I am going to die is one of the best means for me to make the hard choices in life.
You might recall the scene at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial in Saving Private Ryan. Matt Damon's character turns to his wife and asks, “Have I been a good man? Tell me I've lived a good life.” One of the most moving scenes for me in the history of cinematography. We honor ourselves and those who've come before us by living a good life; the very fulfillment of existence itself.
The last time I was scrambling around in my sheets, I was looking for a blue pill, trying to jump start a different kind of battery.
Imagine that. The most indispensable creation in the 21st Century is batteries.
You know, Robby, you're writing a book here. And such a wonderful book it is, with contributions from people who love you. I'm saving the whole damn thing, and I'm hoping that the final page is not written for several years. You've covered just about every existential problem so far. We should recommend people who are new to SR to read it, start to finish. No, we shouldn't. They should find it on their own. It's difficult for many people to just sit still for five minutes when they're new to sobriety.
I recall that when I first got sober in 1983, I rarely slept and had few tools to distract myself from all the chaos in my mind. I was relieved that I could stop drinking, had few real cravings, but my mind and body were like a burning house. I went to AA meetings pretty much every day, often two or three times a day, and was always relieved to be there. I met a few nut cakes in AA, but the overwhelming membership were people who were serious about sobriety, most of whom had gained or regained perspective and carried a soothing sense of humor. I felt safe for the first time in a very long time.
One night, I decided to stay home and watch the NY Knicks game. They had a decent team back then, and even won the first round of the playoffs. I was less than five minutes into the game when the horns started blaring to signal an emotional meltdown. Prior to this, I was all "I'm okay. I'll be fine. I don't need to go to a meeting every day. Everything's good. Yeah, I'm good." Threw on my jacket and ran to a meeting. I don't know when, but things eventually changed for the better. I worked the Steps with my sponsor, and hung out with people who did the same. Early sobriety my first time around was one of the best times of my life.
Well put. The conviction that we actually have something to lose by getting sober or, more generally, by living a better life, is the foundation upon which individual misery -- which informs a wasted life -- often lies. The sad irony is that risking a better life has actually come to be framed as a risk, rather than a simple option. Take risks while we can. Love deeply. And give freely. The worst thing that can happen is that we'll live one kind of good life rather than another. The alternative is to live a life of cursing ourselves for giving in to our irrational fears. Remembering that I am going to die is one of the best means for me to make the hard choices in life.
You might recall the scene at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial in Saving Private Ryan. Matt Damon's character turns to his wife and asks, “Have I been a good man? Tell me I've lived a good life.” One of the most moving scenes for me in the history of cinematography. We honor ourselves and those who've come before us by living a good life; the very fulfillment of existence itself.
Member
Join Date: Dec 2014
Location: Fingerlakes,NY
Posts: 4,536
Lol I was actually on the phone with a friend who was whining about places that don't have gluten free food while I was reading this. Oh the irony. He is now mad because I burst out laughing....oh well he will get over it. Personally I think unless you have Celiac disease you are freaking insane to tweak like that over it.
pray for strength
Join Date: Apr 2014
Location: New England
Posts: 2,414
Originally Posted by Ajax
Yes, I suppose we should just baguette.
Hope that your day is relaxing Robby and Melissa and that everyone is enjoying some sunshine...wherever it can be found.
p***enger
Join Date: Nov 2012
Location: NYC
Posts: 19,036
Originally Posted by EndGameNYC
But I didn't have the attention and concentration to stick with an entire novel. So I explored short stories..
Originally Posted by SoberJennie
EndGame, I went the short story route too 
I could manage to get through a short, whereas the novels were still a bit much.
I could manage to get through a short, whereas the novels were still a bit much.Hi Robby!
Member
Join Date: Oct 2013
Location: Midwest
Posts: 4,860
Siamese cats!
Ah, Siamese cats. There had been one or more in my life for most of it, starting with Fancy, who my parents got when I was an infant. When I was still a pre-schooler, my parents took her somewhere, telling me she went to get married to another cat so she could have kittens. My mother still chuckles about me telling people for months that Fancy got married but the boy cat lived somewhere else. She had some kind of psychotic break after having kittens, went to a university animal behaviorist and was put to sleep after biting my baby brother.
The longest was Tina II (in honor of the unfortunate Tina I), our family cat for 22 years. So sweet and gentle. The only thing in the world she didn't love was Duffy, our Wheaten Terrier. He was jolly, handsome and dumber than a bag of rocks.
God, we loved our pets. I had my own Siamese, Phoebe, for 16 years. She was in a league of her own. She could be fast asleep in another room, but would swing into action whenever I picked up a newspaper. Couldn't stand the idea of anything else being in my lap. Loved her greatly.
Not long ago I realized Phoebe has been out of my life almost as long as she was in it. Some thoughts about getting a new Siamese kitty. Maybe a rescue? Not sure I'm up for a commitment to a pet that could potentially last 20-plus years. I'd really love a dog but condo rules prohibit, nor do I think I could provide a dog the care it needs (minus a large investment in doggy day care). Still ...
Anyway, I digress. Thank you, as always, Rob and Melissa for letting us walk with you on the journey. I think you're both remarkable.
Now, back to a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thou.
Strike that last one.
Back to bread and you guys.
Ah, Siamese cats. There had been one or more in my life for most of it, starting with Fancy, who my parents got when I was an infant. When I was still a pre-schooler, my parents took her somewhere, telling me she went to get married to another cat so she could have kittens. My mother still chuckles about me telling people for months that Fancy got married but the boy cat lived somewhere else. She had some kind of psychotic break after having kittens, went to a university animal behaviorist and was put to sleep after biting my baby brother.
The longest was Tina II (in honor of the unfortunate Tina I), our family cat for 22 years. So sweet and gentle. The only thing in the world she didn't love was Duffy, our Wheaten Terrier. He was jolly, handsome and dumber than a bag of rocks.
God, we loved our pets. I had my own Siamese, Phoebe, for 16 years. She was in a league of her own. She could be fast asleep in another room, but would swing into action whenever I picked up a newspaper. Couldn't stand the idea of anything else being in my lap. Loved her greatly.
Not long ago I realized Phoebe has been out of my life almost as long as she was in it. Some thoughts about getting a new Siamese kitty. Maybe a rescue? Not sure I'm up for a commitment to a pet that could potentially last 20-plus years. I'd really love a dog but condo rules prohibit, nor do I think I could provide a dog the care it needs (minus a large investment in doggy day care). Still ...
Anyway, I digress. Thank you, as always, Rob and Melissa for letting us walk with you on the journey. I think you're both remarkable.
Now, back to a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thou.
Strike that last one.
Back to bread and you guys.
Guest
Join Date: Jun 2011
Location: The Deep South
Posts: 14,636
My grandmother loooooooved Siamese cats She had cats my entire life. Christy Cat is the one I most remember. A Siamese mix.
I have four. None are Siamese, but one is a Snowshoe - pretty sure she's not purebred, but still. Beautiful cat. My oldest is 18 this year!
She had cats my entire life. Christy Cat is the one I most remember. A Siamese mix. I have four. None are Siamese, but one is a Snowshoe - pretty sure she's not purebred, but still. Beautiful cat. My oldest is 18 this year!
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