Near Death

“I don’t understand how she can do that. She overdosed, almost died and she still does blow?”

Addiction is a powerful thing. Makes you cheat, steal and lie.

Logic dictates cheating death once should be enough to make someone stop the thing that caused it, but obviously (from her runny nose and vacant eyes) she didn’t quit.

I’m no better. Broke my tailbone, broke my own heart and I kept drinking and loving. Blacked out more on this rock than I ever have in my life and still ordered another shot.

Last night was night 2 fully sober. Stage is slowly becoming less terrifying. My hands still itch to be holding my (long broken) sippy cup, my throat wants the burn and water isn’t cutting it, but I am ultra-super mega hydrated so I supposed that’s good.

I still won’t say I quit. I didn’t. I was told not to drink, at all, and I am listening. The only thing I am proud of is not having that shot on my way in yesterday nor shots when I got home to fall asleep. That I have some control over. Mark said fully sober and I will abide. I love Mark more than whiskey.

I prayed for this. Some kind of intervention. Someone telling me that I was more important than bar sales.

It’s a different kind of wonderful to be awake and aware at the end of the night and to make sure the ones I care about are alright. I know they got home okay because I watched them. Falling asleep with effort, yet peacefully instead of blacking the fuck out.

I have been lead into temptation.

Past has passed, but the ghosts still appear. Two times since I have been back I felt sucker punched to the heart chakra by news of the old ones, and twice I have not cried nor drank even though my eyes and mouth watered and I wanted to.

I had 5 drinks in the 18 days I was home. Plus the 3 shots to get on the ferry away from here. I didn’t want to go.
Rode horses, went in the water, spent time with random friends in serendipitous ways. Not how I planned anything, but it was lovely.
Universe take the wheel.

I might be evolving again.

I don’t think it was enough time for a factory reset, but Do what you can with what you have where you are. Theodore Roosevelt

I am trying Teddy, I really am this time.

It would be real fucking easy to get overwhelmed right now.
Stuff is in limbo.
Bank account looking worse for the wear due to the move.
Laptop down.
Whole new routine to settle into.
The added oddness of sobriety and remembering how to function/dance whiskey-free.
The splendor that could be this new house if I could get rolling and get money and get my stuff.
Then I remembered moving to farmy all those years ago.
5 years of 2 bachelors, knotty pine walls and country dirt.
And I made it shine.
I’m on my 4th laptop and it always works out somehow.
I work in a place where money comes easily and frequently, I just have to ask for it.
My stuff will get here.
I’ll sleep in my bed for the first time since February 17th 2018. My fall clothes will come. Hats and socks and things I need.
And I remember the hangovers and the blank nights I don’t want. So this is better.
I hear people say ‘we missed you’ and ‘ it wasn’t the same without you.’ ‘She’s a good girl, be good to her.’
And I believe them.

I feel like I’m home.
I feel loved.

I also remember how to eat the elephant.
One bite at a time.

Laptop slipped into a coma a week into me being here. Sketchy YouTube to mp3 site, little virus and down she went.

It was looking bleak and then a miracle occurred.

Isn’t that always the way?

6 years ago (when this happened the last time) I panicked and shrieked loud enough to make the banshees in the woods take notice and count me as one of their own. I had set aside my Lorazepam and regretted it. Poured some whiskey on my anxiety instead. Eventually a solution was found and I ended up with this one I am using now, my darling hp Envy. The old memory ripped from the other and transferred into here. I lost a few things, it’s inevitable. Machines are still as fallible as the men who made them.

This time was no different, except for my reaction.

When letting go of the past you must be willing to let go of all of it, even the good. Come forward, be present, it’s never going to be like that again, good or bad. Nothing will come of lingering except hurt.
(I wrote that years ago)

Yes, there were twinges and pangs. I tried not to think of what I might lose, and I won.

Memories. Photos upon photos. 6 years of writing, finished and unfinished symphonies. Books started and forgotten until I couldn’t look at them anymore. Isn’t that just the way things are? Taking for granted the things right in front of us until they are taken away or just wander off because they can’t fucking take it anymore, or they get a virus and won’t load.

I left a note on the kitchen counter last night saying “what is in here is more important than the machine itself, please don’t factory reset.” And I fell asleep to my iTunes sleepy playlist via my laptop.

Douglas Adams wrote “Don’t panic.”

No point in it…all the time you spend trying to get back what they took from you, more is going out the door. No Country for Old Men, Cormac McCarthy

Brother Matt said ‘the rewrites are always better anyways’.

Hmph, three wise men, all in alignment.

I believe this to be absolute truth. That is what this is, one big cosmic do-over rewrite.

No panic, only gratitude and lessons to learn.