AA ramblings.

At an AA meeting today. An old guy rambled on, just like he does every day. He sits close to the front so he’ll be asked to speak. I sit at the back to avoid it. But the guy next to me, after 5 minutes of complaining about being “back home” (from Mexico) says in a humph that “No-one at AA should be allowed to speak until they have at least 30 days sober. This guy has been coming here for 25 years and hasn’t gone for more than a week”.

I humph back my agreement, which is why I’m sitting way back at the Alano Club’s everyday 2PM meeting, so I won’t be seen or asked to speak. How can I? I’m going without even a day’s worth of absitence. Not yet. But I think this guy has it right. His name is Jim, a huge hand attached to an equally large body, suntanned—he shakes and say’s HELLO. After Mr. Rambler is finished rambling he gets up and say’s, “Well, this is a meeting I won’t be talking about for day’s to come!” then sticks out his hand and say’s goodbye. I join his shadow about 30 seconds later. We both leave the meeting at the half time, aka “smoke break”. Him for a smoke and easy leave of absence. Me, so that I won’t be tempted to stop off at the ol’ watering-hole for a drink before 5. Mission successful.

“Another day in paradise”, I almost said to someone later, but stopped myself, thinking, ruminating quickly; “What’s paradise for me might not be paradise for him”. Nevertheless, to me to live another day IS paradise, a gift, especially while I am still drinking. Yesterday I was screaming down the highway at ridiculous speeds (totally sober–not 5 yet!) to catch the 3:15 ferry-ride back to the mainland, back to my home and love. A stearing-wheel gripping ride back to my paradise. Indeed. Thank God, I made it, so that I can now, just as I have today, live and enjoy yet another day in it.

I swore that I would never write after drinking, but in the last few days have realized that then I might leave this paradise without being heard from again. Now, I feel that I owe it to myself and my loved ones to keep talking, regardless. At least an incenses ashes are still traces of the flame.

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Mute…

I haven’t written much lately. “Life” and its vicissitudes have kept me otherwise occupied, distracted, or simply unable.

Why? Well, to begin with, I have suffered from severe anxiety since I was born. Going through 2 foster family mothers before ending up with the third who kept me—all in the first six months of my life—most likely had something to do with that. Then depression reared its ugly head in my early 30’s, which I happily “self-medicated” with alcohol, especially after being separated from my children due to divorce back in 1995, and then followed closely by a rocky second re-bound marriage, on-again-off-again over 10 years. My depression has since lessened but the taste for my self-prescribed medication has not.

Thanks to “real” medication and intensive therapy, I am seeing light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, I am seeing that there actually IS light at the end of that tunnel! While waiting for the clouds to clear, then, I have purposefully chosen not to write, comment, opinion-ate or dare even beer-induced pontificate.

In the meantime, I’m taking life just “one day at a time”. That’s an “AA” (Alcoholics Anonymous) expression. I attended AA off and on for a few years. Great organization. I learned a lot about alcohol addiction and LIFE at AA….and THAT is what this site is all about; discovering and sharing things about life with YOU, with the hope that we ALL might benefit and improve the quality of our individual lives, the lives of our loved ones and perhaps even…the world. I’m a die-hard optimist.

God willing, see you soon, when the sky is clear.

Take care,
Tim