Bike Newbie

It occurs to me, as I wake up in a cold, clean house in the country: I’ve been focusing on that which is wrong at present. I should give some time and attention to that which is right. It will do me some good, and I can always come back to that which is wrong later.

That which is right. That witch is right.

My job. My wife. My good friend. My son. My physical health. My Search & Rescue training. My pickup. My stable of bicycles. My favorite hockey and soccer teams. My fava beans in the garden that are withstanding the worst of the winter weather. My skillset. My honor. My goodness.

March 3, 2023

7:30pm

The pizza was so dank, so good. As I ate I thought, I have a lot of learning to do. The most important thing to learn, I think, is how to be nice. To everyone including myself.

8:17pm

Watching the Vegas Golden Knights game on TV with my wife, it hit me. The reason for my affinity with the name Tetsuo is that I am playing out the tragic character Tetsuo from the movie Akira. Tetsuo is a teenage boy whose best friend is an older, bigger teen named Kaneda. Tetsuo has some anger issues from being bullied at the orphanage where he grew up with Kaneda. During a gang fight, Tetsuo wrecks his motorcycle and comes into contact with the escaped subjects of a government telekinesis project. Government scientists decide to abduct Tetsuo and alter his mind as a result. Tetsuo, once he regains consciousness, becomes ridiculously powerful, able to move large aircraft and buildings with his mind. The problem is he has psychological issues and can’t control his power, which corrupts him. In his low-self-esteem ego trip, he assumes he will eventually master it, but the power only grows further beyond his control and he destroys his best friend and mentor Kaneda.

The parallel with my life is I assumed I knew what was best for everyone and harmed innocent people in the process of throwing a self-righteous tantrum. In my zeal to protect myself and others, I ended up harming all of us. I am like Tetsuo. I have low self-esteem and it affects my ability to engage with reality effectively and in a caring, compassionate way.

Tonight I listened to the soundtrack of Akira for the first time in 15 years. Every note of it is tattooed on my brain, because I listened to it on CD religiously in my 20s. Part of the soundtrack is traditional Japanese Noh theater music. Noh theater often relates stories of samurai who have been corrupted by their power, and become hideous demons as a result. The demon cannot live with himself, and becomes a pitiful, tragic sort of ghost roaming the land. Listening to this music again gave me goosebumps the whole way through.

Here is the English translation of the Japanese Noh theater music in the Akira soundtrack:

I am Tetsuo
I am a lonely man
I am not allowed to know what my upbringing was
Impossible to go back to days of long ago
I am a lonely traveler

I find a way to survive
I find food to survive
I play to survive
I laugh to survive
I herd with others to survive
My only mate, Kaneda
Where are you, Kaneda?
My shadow, my shadow
My shadow has been torn asunder
My shadow has gone away
Oh, my shadow, my shadow
Oh, Kaneda, Kaneda
Where are you?

7:50am
After a pleasant early morning, the gnawing came back, more brutal than ever this time. It tore at me and slashed my soul open, forcing me into convulsions of crying for minutes at a time. This lasted for about an hour, and my whole drive to work was through the blur of tears.

But something is different now. I can tell that the gnawing is a core part of me. It’s the part of me that could do what I did, of which I’m ashamed and not ready to write about yet. Upon reaching this epiphany, I wanted to kill the gnawing but quickly realized I can’t. It’s too much a part of me. If I kill it I die too, and nobody wants that, not even me.

So my plan is to make the gnawing my ally. I’m starting to cautiously feed it with little scraps of music, hoping to make it trust me enough to obey me. The music is mostly from my past, guitar riffs I wrote in my college rock band, and some from even earlier in my life. I’m going to have to be careful, but I’m hopeful I can get to where I make the gnawing come and go at my command. It’s going to take a lot of time and patience. And I’m going to need a guitar again, after almost 20 years away from that instrument. OK I want a guitar…that’s the real truth.

8:41am
One upside of crying is I get really warm when I cry. Good thing it’s wintertime!

9:20am
I just got tickets to see Mastodon and GOJIRA in April. Fuck yeah. I’m going to see if my son is interested in going to Portland with me, if not I’ll see if a coworker wants to go. Most of my friends and family are not metal fans.

10:03am
Early iterations of my experiment are producing promising outcomes. The gnawing is demonstrating an acute taste for metal, and is responding favorably to loud infusions of Mastodon via earbud, allowing me to focus on work. I remain cautious yet optimistic. If these results can be confirmed, I will be purchasing musical equipment soon.

12:20pm
Experiment update: I am encouraged by the results I’m getting. The gnawing also responds favorably to Deftones at high volume. The Deftones audio is a more recent recording that sounds better in the earbuds, and although the gnawing has bit me a few times (the fucker!) it becomes quite docile overall in the presence of ROCK. This is good.

Borussia Dortmund has a 2-0 lead over Red Bull Leipzig at halftime. Yes!

I’m going to rant for a minute at people who have no team loyalty (or band loyalty, or fanboy loyalty, or person loyalty) but choose to snark at people who do. Shut The Fuck Up. Nobody cares that you don’t love anything or that you think that makes you superior to those of us who do. You don’t have to love what I love, but you also don’t have to say anything. But the thing is you do have to say something, because deep down your frail little ego needs a boost, and the only way to get a boost for you is to cut others down. STFU. The reason I get so upset is I go to a lot of trouble to open up to the world and get others comfortable with opening up too. When punk ass bitches like you come around it poisons the well and people move on. I’m sure you think that makes you cool or powerful; it doesn’t. Fuck Off and Die.

Tonight is pizza night, where my wife and I make mini pizzas at home. Hooray for pizza!

Back to work or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

1:33pm
Borussia Dortmund win! They now sit alone atop the Bundesliga table, at least for now.

3:00pm
I think I’m starting to gain a bit of control over the gnawing. I think my experiment is working…basically all I’m doing is listening to loud music, but if it works it works, right? I hope I can get to the point where even thinking about loud music will send the gnawing away. Meanwhile, I think there is a guitar and an amp in my future. 🎸

4:12pm
It’s interesting how mental energy works. I can write and write all day long (I just drafted a long contract) and not feel tired. As soon as I have to stop writing and read a narrative, though, my brain just wants to sleep. I’ll try falling asleep that way tonight. I only slept about 4 hours last night so I know I need the extra sleep…my “normal” was 7-7.5 hours per night, and in recovery I’d say I’ve averaged about 4.5 hours per night, maybe less. Looking forward to someday getting more sleep.

5:23pm
Another upside to losing your marbles: A pretty rad singing voice. I’ve been singing a lot more on my commutes lately (when I’m not bawling), and I like how my crazy voice sounds. Maybe I’m more relaxed now, because I have a lot better vocal range. Singing is good for me; it gets the anger and other emotions out. I wouldn’t sing in front of other people; that’s just for me.

4:13am

It occurs to me that one day I’ll look back through these Journal Recovery posts from a different place. How will they look? What will they sound like if I read them aloud in one year, three years, five years, ten years? It’s tough to say, but I think Future Me will be a tiny bit embarrassed but a lot more proud and forgiving.

This morning I’m really grateful for my dad, who passed away in 2021, and my son, who is still alive and doing well. They are both the gentlest of souls, which in a very real way makes each of them more of a badass than I’ll ever be. I’m more of a Donald Duck kind of soul. People love Donald Duck and generally want to see him succeed, but in a twisted way it’s kind of more fun to watch him bumble around, flustered, screaming curses in his little duck voice. In the same twisted way it will be fun to go back through these posts someday and chuckle at how frustrated poor Donald got when going sober.

It’s a special day today in Germany. Today the hated soccer team Red Bull Leipzig travels to Dortmund to play my beloved Ballspiel Verein Borussia (BVB 09) at Signal Iduna Park. I will do my best to watch the match, which starts at 11:30.

9:17pm
I feel like a teenager again in some ways, like how I felt before I ever used alcohol. I think this is a better me even though it isn’t pleasant. Being a teenager isn’t pleasant either. I have more energy and I seek creative inputs and outputs much more freely. And I rock. I rock like the bassist in Satan’s band. Her name is Judy Seven and she’s done hard time. Hell of a good cook though.

I am feeling a great urge to return to Maui and swim and snorkel and watch the ghost crabs and drive the Road to Hana and zip line and check out Molokini Crater. And camp up at Haleakala. All without alcohol. Maybe that will be my reward for one year sober next year.

10:07pm
I asked and you said yes
To my simple request
“I want to fly, put me high,
I see my house, I see it all”

But you weren’t done with me
Flying wild, twisting free
Sudden fear, failed to steer,
Total loss of control

I tried out every lever on the dashboard
I cried out “mayday”, unheard as the wind roared
Plummeted with little chance to land
Hit the ground, the consequence be damned

My injuries did hurt, but I lived to see another day
The bumps and scars were worth the lesson that I learned that way
Now I see compassion in it all
You were showing me that I could fall
And it’s all right.

8:24pm

I just had a tiny bit of an epiphany. Some of these anxious, doom-y, dread-y thoughts and feelings seemed all too familiar to me. Not all of them, but maybe 20% of them. But I could not piece together where I knew them from.

Tonight I had the urge to listen to the album California by Mr. Bungle. I always think of it as a really depressing album (it’s not really, it’s actually clever and inventive progressive rock). Then it dawned on me: I listened to that album a lot following my divorce in 2007. The songs evoke the same 20% of feelings I’m feeling right now. Especially the song “Retrovertigo”…that’s a tough one for me to listen to. So why did I want to hear these songs tonight?

I have a hypothesis. I got divorced in 2007 from my ex-wife. I got divorced in 2023 from a part of myself (I say I killed him, but that’s just for dramatic effect). I think the album California is my way of saying goodbye to something I once loved or thought I loved.

I feel better figuring this out, even if it isn’t actually true. I don’t think I’ll listen to California. Maybe I’ll listen to The Bride Screamed Murder by Melvins instead.

4:48am

Embrace what serves you and use it. Let go of the rest and don’t give it another thought.

12:25pm

The gnawing is back. I know I’m going to be OK though. It’s making my heart race, but my heart can handle it. It’s a really strong heart. It has a lot left to give. I may end up writing quite a bit more than I thought I would today. I keep thinking about the good people in my life…they don’t always give me what I want in the moment, but they always give me what I need for the long haul. I’m eternally grateful for them. I’m going to have to ask a few of them for help here soon, which is going to be really difficult for me to do. I’m not used to asking for help.

I picture myself howling. Not like a dog or wolf would howl, more like the deep feedback of an electric guitar through a Marshall amp. It’s a howl that jars people, gets on their nerves. It’s a soulful but distorted howl. That’s my howl.

I imagine getting advice from a woman I love, trust and respect. She tells me to be kinder to myself, cut myself a little slack. I joke and say “What? You want me to cut myself?” She doesn’t laugh. She says, “You heard me.” Then she hugs me tightly before letting me go.

I don’t know why any of this is happening. For some reason I needed to make it happen, and so I made it happen. It will only get better from here.

3:17pm

I got a perfect score on my annual review from my supervisor. I wanted to tell her “Next year I’ll be even better because I’ll be sober” but I don’t dare. I never drank or was drunk during work hours, so it wouldn’t matter to her anyway. For about a half hour after my review, I was on cloud nine. Now, almost an hour later, I’m crashing after that high. I haven’t taken anything at all or drank, it’s just raw emotion magnified. I’m still happy about it, it’s just that physically I am crashing.

4:21pm

I used to look with disdain at people who needed help with addiction or mental health issues. I won’t do that ever again. Poetic Justice is a bitch. I am getting help though. In just over six days I’ll be sitting with a professional. I have in my wildland firefighting times gone 21 days in Hell without rest or hygiene or palatable food. Six days is nothing. And it isn’t Hell it’s just uncomfortable. Get tough Michael you fucking pussy ass bitch. Sight it, go! Also, you did the math wrong it’s only 5 days!! 😉

5:27pm

One nice thing about losing your marbles is you have all this frantic energy you can use to fuel epic workouts. I have been destroying my 45 minute spinning workouts all this week, and also destroying my calves. Tomorrow will be a recovery day (get it? Hahahaha). Another nice thing is you aren’t often hungry. My clothes are fitting looser on me which I have to admit is a good thing that I like. I can probably cope with the crazy if it means I lose 70 pounds.

I wonder if dogs ever get like I have gotten. When I get a dog, whenever that will be, I will name it Tetsuo (male or female) and probably go for a Siberian husky. I am going to spoil Tetsuo. Tetsuo won’t be lonely.

I killed the part of me I call Blackout Mike; this was the part that believed the lie about chemicals substituting for love as a basic human need. He wasn’t an evil person, he was just too weak to thrive in this world. He did not serve me. As proof of my honor and compassion, however, I will throw him a wake. And any good wake includes music, whether it be a dirge or an aria…

“The End of Dormancy” by Voivod

Uncertain sky, ocean of silence / Nothing in sight, only storms in the distance / Gear up, meeting point at zero hour / It looks like this is far from over

Signals coming from deep space giant void / Magnetic shields are ready to deploy / Unknown waves are rumbling stronger / Confirmed, this comes from underwater

I always thought this could be real / Always assumed that it was near / Not having a single doubt / Not having a second thought

THE WAKE

This the end of dormancy

THE WAKE

Something from the bottom of the sea

These kinds of things can’t be revealed / Who would have thought? Who would believe? / Fear of the unknown will stay on / Because no god has ever saved anyone

THE WAKE

From the seabed underneath

THE WAKE

Millions of years of dormancy

THE WAKE

Recharged by the waste of energy

THE WAKE

This thing will change our destiny

“To all vessels, keep your position. All units, ready to counterattack.”

Under the surface, gravitational waves / Abyssal hurricane from the alien base / Trans-fictional sky engulfed in flames / Too late to retreat, too amazed to relate

Time is stretching, movements divide / The course of events suddenly modified / Melted in the structure, bodies petrified

Staring at me asking for help before they die.

3.2.2023

3:47am

I do this (journaling) not because it necessarily feels good or because I have anything profound to say, but because it seems to help with the anxiety and rage. It reminds me that the power to heal, to change, to embrace truth, all of it resides in me. I am consciously choosing these words as I type them, not alcohol, not any other person. This is 100% me, raw, no filter.

I lived in the coastal town of Tillamook, Oregon, for 4 years. Anyone familiar with the region knows that Tillamook floods pretty frequently and that the floods can get severe. In 1998 it flooded and the highway through town was only drivable by high clearance pickups or trucks. My father-in-law at the time needed a ride home from work. The flood waters were still rising so I knew I needed to act fast in my tiny little pickup. It wasn’t fast enough…a wake from an oncoming truck on the highway drowned my engine, and I was literally dead in the water. Moments later, a jacked up pickup piloted by a husband and wife came to my aid, towing me to safety and high ground. I couldn’t pay them (I was young and poor), but they tried to explain to me that they didn’t do this for money, they did it to rescue themselves in a way. This married couple, when it rained hard and flooded in Tillamook, literally geared up and spent all night rescuing helpless motorists like me. It struck me in the night just now that many of the sobernauts I see in the online communities or at meetings are the same. They are heroes and I salute them. Maybe I’ll help somebody else someday, maybe I won’t. But I have a long way to go before I’m able to really offer meaningful aid. I’m still stranded myself.

You can begin your deep breathing now.

“Sobernaut” by Black Sabbath

I want to reach out, and touch the sky / I want to touch the sun but I don’t need to fly / I’m gonna climb up every mountain of the moon / And find the dish that ran away with the spoon

I’ve crossed the oceans, turned every bend / I’ve found the plastic at the gold at rainbow’s end / I’ve been through magic and through life’s realities / I’ve lived a thousand years and it never bothered me

Got no religion, don’t need no friends / Got all I want and I don’t need to pretend / Don’t try to reach me, cause I’ll tear up your mind / I’ve seen the future and I’ve left it behind.

1:20pm

Arrived late to a work meeting on the OSU campus. There was nowhere to park and they had also changed meeting rooms without notice. My lateness made an already awkward situation incredibly awkward-er. So frustrating! I hate being here now and am not optimistic about the meeting outcomes.

2:33pm

Still in the work meeting. Pretty unbearable. I’m unable to focus or care about what’s being said. I think this is more about the poor quality of the meeting and less about me. My time would be much better spent on other things…I’m keeping myself busy making lists for work, checking email on my phone, and journaling of course.

6:27pm

The second half of the work meeting wasn’t as bad as the first half. I’m glad I stayed there even though I had an amazing urge to just get up and leave…I doubt anyone would have even noticed and there would have been no bad consequences. But I’m proud of myself for hanging in there and gutting it out. In hindsight my problem was as much about me as it was about the shitty meeting.