Bike Newbie

7:29am
Sitting in my car at the counselor’s office. I left the house early because it was snowing and I didn’t know how traffic would be. Now I’m waiting for 8:00 and time is streeeeeeettcchiiing out. I’m a little excited and relieved to be starting therapy, but mostly I feel uncomfortable and anxious because for me this is totally uncharted territory. In wildland firefighting there are 18 Watch Out Situations where you really have to be on your guard…one of them is “In country not seen in daylight”. This is where I am right now, in country not seen in daylight.

10:37am
Back at work. I saw the country in daylight finally, and I like it. I’m going to go back weekly to therapy for a while. I like my therapist and her pragmatic approach. She believes in treating what she has identified. I’m going to be trying a few things over the next few weeks that will hopefully have a positive, lasting impact on me.

1:36pm
On my lunch break, I took another positive step in my treatment. I’m feeling good about this, even though I know the results won’t be immediate. With any luck my treatment will start as early as this weekend.

As I get ready to go to my first therapy session ever, a lot of things are running through my head, and I’m doing what I can to kind of clear my head.

On my blog I (usually) resist the urge to enter song lyrics, because I know their meanings and resonations are very personal and subjective. A perfect example: nearly every song I listen to lately seems to have lyrics about recovery. Now, I know that is far too much of a coincidence to be true, but that’s the way the lyrics read to me right now. To another person, the lyrics will apply directly to something different going on in their life. And neither the other person nor me is probably anywhere close to what the songwriter was actually referencing. Does that matter? Not really. I’ve read enough rockstar interviews to know that they’re happy people get something from their music, even if it doesn’t directly match the feeling that went into creating the song.

That’s how I would like to live my life. Happy that I contributed something to another’s well being, even if what they receive isn’t exactly what I wanted to give. I’ve got some work to do in this regard, and I believe I’m ready to do it.

March 7, 2023

7:50am
Eventually I’m going to be hanging out with friends who drink. I’m thinking about what I will say to them. I don’t care if they drink in front of me; I won’t do it. To me drinking is kind of like Elvis; I don’t own any Elvis records and I don’t listen to Elvis. I have nothing against Elvis or his many fans…they’re fine. Elvis just isn’t for me. I’ve been surrounded by Elvis my whole life and it wouldn’t depress me if I never heard another Elvis song. But I can understand how other people like it. That’s the same way I feel about alcohol.

9:23am
Just completed training on how to administer Narcan. Pretty scary stuff, the opioid epidemic. Makes alcohol addiction look like child’s play, not that comparisons are very useful.

11:05am
About a half hour ago I scored a major victory on a large project, and I was flying high emotionally. Now I think those endorphins have worn off and I’m a shaking, worrying wreck. I know this too will pass, but I don’t like how strong these emotions are, even though transitory. I think it’s time to put my earbuds in and crank some Deftones to calm myself.

Tomorrow is my first appointment with my therapist. I keep thinking about it and trying to envision how it will go. What will the room look like? What kind of personality will my therapist have? How will I act? Will I be comfortable and charming, or nervous and desperate? What kinds of discussions will take place? Will I put on a brave face or break down crying? I think I’m building up this therapy thing into something more than it really is. My left brain says it’s 90% likely it will be fine, nothing more, nothing less. Can I just say it’s REALLY AWESOME that my left brain has a voice again.

1:22pm
Suddenly felt a wave of melancholy. Doing mindful breathing exercises and it seems to be helping.

2:14pm
Listening to White Pony and feeling a lot better.
Cause you’re my girl / And that’s alright / if you stay with me I won’t bite

3:57pm
Nobody at work or in the community where I work knows I’m in recovery. This doesn’t make me superior to anyone in any way, but I can’t help but feel a little eyeroll-y when people come to me with petty problems, especially when they are on the personal side rather than professional. I should remind myself (before I roll my eyes for real) that my problems probably would seem small and silly to some other people if I told them, but I wouldn’t want those people laughing or being snarky. If someone is sad or upset, then their problem is real enough.

6:00pm
Taco Tuesday! We had tacos for dinner, using the last of our hamburger. I’m thinking of not eating red meat except on the most special occasions. I typically don’t eat much beef to start with, so it should be a very easy lifestyle change. I’ll still eat fish, chicken, and eggs.

6:50pm
I love my guitar. I remembered how to pick out “Ghost Riders In The Sky” and the guitar has a clean, crisp sound perfect for country-western. Then I switched on the Overdrive pedal and played fuzz guitar for a while. I’m in love with Jessica Rabid.

March 6, 2023

1:57pm
It’s been a pretty busy day so this is my first chance to journal. I brought a suggestion to my second meeting of the day. It was not well received, and my first instinct was to sulk about it. But I remembered two of the four agreements, Don’t Take Anything Personally and Don’t Assume Anything, and that helped me keep my chin up. Later in the meeting a better suggestion was brought up and I think the whole thing was a blessing in disguise. I’m actually glad my idea was shot down!

I have felt more like my “normal” self today and keeping very busy definitely plays into it. I talked during my third meeting with people I like, trust and admire very much. They are my people.

Hey, my son is able to go with me to see Mastodon GOJIRA and Lorna Shore in April! Stoked for that show! I’ll pick him up after work that day and we’ll drive to Portland together. We used to go to shows all the time back when he was in high school (15-19 years ago).

3:34pm
Feeling a void in me. It’s not the gnawing, just a vague and nagging sense that I need something, but I can’t tell what that something is. It’s annoying but nowhere near as devastating as the gnawing.

4:24pm
Tried listening to GOJIRA at high volume. It doesn’t fill the void completely, but it’s enough to get me by.

5:25pm
Home from work, and can’t keep my eyes open. So sleepy. Failure to hack. Don’t know if I should go to bed or what.

5:38pm
The wife made me eat some leftover salmon Caesar salad, and I feel much more awake and the void is gone. Maybe I was just hungry?

March 6, 2023

4:30am

I had a dream about polka dots. That’s it: just an image of black polka dots on a white background, and it was extremely comforting. The reason why might have to do with my early childhood. I remember around the age of 4 my family had a VW hatchback, and I often had to just sit in the back seat and be quiet. There were no such things as electronic amusements yet, and I hadn’t learned to read. So to entertain myself, I would stare up at the ceiling of the VW which was an off-white vinyl dotted with tiny pinpoint polka dots. Somehow I had figured out that if I relaxed my focus, the polka dots would shift in each eye’s vision until the two images perfectly overlapped, sort of a primitive version of the “magic eye” posters that became popular in the 90s. I would do this over and over again, adjusting my own visual focus back and forth, for what seemed like hours. That memory has stayed with me, and for some reason I find it very comforting…maybe in a way it’s a lesson that I have the ability to invent ways of soothing myself in any situation.

At any rate, as strangely creative as my abilities might be, I know I can’t do recovery alone. I need the people around me…at home, at work, online. It helps me immensely that I have people in my life whom I would be embarrassed and ashamed to let down. And even though they have no idea I’m in recovery (all except for my wife who supports me), I would be letting them down by slipping. This is a great motivation and I wish everyone in my situation had lots of people around them they admired and cared about.

March 5, 2023

I took my wife out to a movie and dinner today. It was the first all-indoor date we went on since before Covid. We had a great time and we’ll probably make it a regular thing now. The movie we saw was Cocaine Bear; we both loved it.

Cocaine Bear is exactly what it sounds like. It’s probably not going to win many awards, but it is a great piece of cinema. The action is very intense and features a lot of graphic deaths, which my wife (surprisingly) and I (unsurprisingly) didn’t mind. The dialogue is simple but contains a lot of laughs. And the absurdity of the situation (a huge black bear high on cocaine, mauling/dismembering people with abandon in a National Forest) is played to the hilt. In short, this was the perfect movie for me at this point in my life. I have enough shit going on that I really am not looking to ponder life’s deep mysteries in a movie. I just want to watch something that entertains and distracts me for a while. Cocaine Bear delivered!

Before going to the movie, I played guitar for a good long while. (Midlife crisis? Maybe, but who cares! Keeps me from drinking!) Since my wife was home, I plugged in my headphones and shredded through them instead of making the walls shake. It worked wonderfully, making us both happy. I think the combination of journaling and musical expression is healing me more than anything else. Group meetings online and the Subreddit r/stopdrinking help me immensely too.

I had an amazing dream during a micronap today, which I may post about later. My dreams ever since my recovery started have been a very pleasant surprise…no nightmares, all very uplifting and inspiring. Alcohol is never in them at all. I think it might be my subconscious mind compensating for the rough daytimes that recovery often brings.

The week ahead looks pretty promising: I have several good meetings lined up for work, I have my first ever therapy session, I have my group meeting online, and I have my guitar and several books I’m working on. I think I’m going to clean and oil my work boots tonight, and I’ll be tired and ready for bed by the time I’m done, hopefully.

When you’re drowning in the open sea, and you have nothing/no one else to hold onto, you hang onto the one thing/someone you have for dear life. When you become aware of all the myriad other things/people surrounding you, available and ready to aid you, you can begin to let go. When you open your eyes and realize there is no water and you’re not drowning, you are rescued and free.

March 5, 2023

7:14am

I woke up this morning having slept 7.5 hours, the most sleep I’ve had in a very long time. There was beautiful music playing in my head. It wasn’t even metal. It was upbeat power pop with a female vocal, like something Avril Lavigne would sing but it wasn’t any song I’d ever heard. It was uplifting. I embraced it for several moments, and then let go of it.

This morning my thoughts dwell on the lies I told myself about my abuse of alcohol, and how I’m living the truth now. The truth is I didn’t drink every night, only about 4 times a week on average. I didn’t get what I called “drunk” more than about twice a month. (My definition was incredibly liberal though.) Yet my relationship with alcohol was still abusive, and here’s why.

I was a highly functioning alcohol abuser. I ritualized my alcohol use, and made sure my life accommodated it. My evenings were reserved for “winding down” and relieving the stress of the day by drinking. That’s good (the stress relief part), but I didn’t always *need* to wind down, and never should have used alcohol for it…still I carefully reserved every evening from 5:30 until bedtime and specifically planned not to drive anywhere or do anything that would require sober thought, so that I could binge drink if I wanted to. I didn’t binge drink very often, but it was enough that I had to be careful about it. Even on the nights when I didn’t wind up binge drinking, I wouldn’t do much of anything except watch TV, just in case I had a sudden urge to drink or “take it up a notch” after a couple of beers. When I think of all the evening hours I wasted on drinking or being prepared to drink…it probably adds up to years.

Someone reading this post might very well think, “It doesn’t sound like he had much of a problem. I know people who would start every day with a shot of liquor, or get blackout drunk every night, or drink 15 beers every single day. He’s just whining about nothing.” The truth is there is no hard-number threshold for “alcohol abuse” versus “responsible alcohol use”. If it feels like a problem to you, it is. If you believe you’re abusing alcohol, you are. If you think you should stop drinking, you should stop. It’s that simple.

A lot of people, especially those in recovery, don’t like using the word recovery. I don’t mind it. It is, after all, about regaining my life, less than it is about vilifying a chemical. I’m excited about all the hours, days, months and years I’m about to gain.

March 4, 2023

Day 50. It should feel like some kind of landmark but every day is its own kind of landmark really. I do feel like celebrating joyously, but not because of a number.

Today I brought home Roger Rabid and Jessica Rabid. They are a married couple and I made sweet, loud love to them for hours. Roger is a little Vox Valvetronic amp, and Jessica is a gorgeous black Yamaha guitar. I played my heart out as soon as I brought them home and got them all cranked up. They respond to my touch with great enthusiasm. They growl, they roar, they hiss, they purr, and I love it when they scrrrreeeeeeeaaaammmm.

It has been many years, 15 or more, since I last picked up a guitar and really played. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I remembered and what chops I have left. That said, I’m still not very good. But I’m good enough to like the sound of my own playing, and that will be more than enough. I plan to play every day I can until my fingers hurt too much to play any more.

Speaking of which, I’d forgotten how badly steel guitar strings cut up your fingers, at least for the first couple of weeks. My left fingertips are still raw and sore as I type this, and my hands cramped up as I was cooking dinner today. And I love it.

I played guitar, my fifth instrument (before that I played piano, clarinet, saxophone and drums), starting at age 16. Unlike with my first four instruments, I never learned to read guitar music, I just play by ear. I played in a few different rock/punk/alternative bands through high school and college. After college I kept playing on my own for off-work entertainment (the company bunkhouse where I lived had no TV). So I only know how to play like a young person who has a lot of steam to blow off. In other words I rock the fuck out.

I played a lot of the old standards today like Heartbreaker, Wasted Years, and Anarchy in the UK. It was fun to recall them, and it was even more fun to write new riffs as I noodled around all afternoon. I felt like a teenager again, expressing my feelings, allowing myself to rage and cry out and shout exuberantly. This is a good path for me.

March 4, 2023

11:00am

It occurs to me that recovery is something like having a job in which you have to give a lot of public speaking presentations, at least for me. At first, each public presentation is excruciating and nerve-wracking, and you have to prepare extensively for each one. Awkwardness, anguish, anxiety, uncertainty, and lack of self-confidence are the normal and dominant experiences. Then, with time and practice, you begin to build your repertoire, which in turn builds your confidence and makes you more of an engaging, natural speaker. You learn more and more tricks, like how to read the room, how to identify and deliver key messages, and how to keep a good tempo. Your presentation content is more and more firmly embedded in your memory, and you can add new content without straining yourself. Many years later (and for me, 100+ presentations under my belt), you can be called upon suddenly to speak on almost anything in public, and you can rise to the occasion with grace and confidence, winning people over and getting the message across.

In terms of recovery, I’m still at the excruciatingly awkward and nerve-wracking stage. I have to put effort into each day to make sure I don’t crash and burn again. But I’m getting better at it with each day, with each awkward emotional episode, with each journal entry. Eventually I will be doing it more and more effortlessly, until finally I only really think about it now and then…that day is a ways off though.

10:27am

I just looked at my aura in the mirror. It’s still bright white with the tiniest hint of pale green. It feels like I’ve changed too much to continue to have a white aura, but maybe the core of me hasn’t really changed. That thought is comforting, because I hope it’s the same as before. The very innermost part of me is someone I really like.

9:14am

My mother loved to play the victim. Her dramas unfolded, sometimes lasting months or years, never really resolving. The drama that ultimately took her life was very real, but most of her other melodramas were of her own creation. She claimed she hated drama and that these were just “God’s mysterious plans”, but I knew better. Deep down she didn’t really want the problem to go away, she wanted people to pity her as the victim of cruel circumstance or cruel people. I’m like her in a lot of ways, but that is not one of them. I have problems (well let’s be real, a problem), and I do enjoy a sympathetic word, look, or hug, but I am willing to put my head down and do the work to STFP (Solve The Fucking Problem). My mother never once did a thing to STFP…they were her problems to complain about, and everyone else’s to fix or deal with. I am related to my mother…I am not my mother. I STFP.