Posted in Addiction, advice, friendship, Life, love, Musings, recovery, relationships

The Fleeting Nature of Life

I have changed by leaps and bounds over the past two and a half years. Some of it was just by nature of staying off of drugs and letting my brain heal, but a lot of it was intentional and through hard, hard work, deep soul-searching, and honest reflection about the kind of person I am and who I want to be.

I am doing the recovery stuff- working with my sponsor, doing step-work, going to meetings. I am doing spiritual stuff- daily prayer and meditation. I have a therapist, I pay attention to my behavior, and try to reign it in when the way I am acting doesn’t jibe with the person I know I can be.

But nothing- and I mean NOTHING- can shake you up, nothing can clear the cobwebs out of your eyes, like the sudden loss of someone you love. I have never been more heartbroken in my life than I have since last August. That was when I lost my friend Joe, whom I loved so much more than I can even begin to explain, and even if I did, it wouldn’t make sense. That’s okay, though. Love doesn’t need to make sense, right? I always think about the way that most people get on my nerves, their frail human side is always coming to light, ruining everything. His never did. He never got on my nerves, like, not ever that I can remember. I am not trying to say that he didn’t have a bad side, that he never disappointed me or hurt my feelings, because he definitely did. He was just so easy for me to forgive. I wish I could love more people that way, but I haven’t yet (aside, of course, from my kids, but that is a different kind of thing altogether).

Anyway, he died. And it was one of the hardest days of my life, one of the worst phone calls I have ever survived. I remember that my knees just buckled, and I fell on the floor, the tears came in a torrent, and the grief was immediate and overwhelming. There have been lots of tears since then, and lots of times that I am totally fine. I can think of him or talk about him, and it makes me smile or laugh, no tears at all. As long as, you know, I don’t think too hard about what I am saying.

But what has happened as a result of him dying is, I have changed. I thought he was invincible. I know how stupid that sounds, but if you’d ever met Joe, you would understand why.  So, now that he is gone, I guess I view everything with more urgency, through the scope, I suppose, of someone who understands that life as I know it could change in an instant.

You might think that this would make me fearful, or hold on even more tightly to everything than I already do, but no…in a way, it has been a gift. Because I have had to face the fact that there is absolutely nothing I can do about some things. When it is your time, it is your time, plain and simple. Rather than making me cling to everything, I find myself learning to let go. Life is short. You had better enjoy every beautiful moment that makes itself available to you. Tell people you love them. Dance, be present, look up at the stars and the moon in the beautiful sky. Slow down. Say yes when you want to, and no when you should.

Don’t waste a bunch of time on petty anger, rushing through your day, always trying to get to the next thing, the next thing, the next thing. Take a moment to realize that this, right now, is your life. It is happening NOW. Maybe you are lucky, like me, and you are still relatively young, and your whole body works the way it is supposed to, and you can basically do anything you want to do. Do you realize how lucky that makes you? Don’t waste it. Don’t waste a single minute of it.

And that is all I have to say about that today. Carry on.

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Posted in Addiction, friendship, Life, living, love, People, random, recovery, twelve step

First Times

Nimbus

I think you get to a point in life, a certain age, when you think most of your “firsts” are behind you. At 42, with the life I have lived so far, I certainly felt like that was true. And then something happens, out of the blue, that knocks you right the fuck off your feet, and you realize how wrong you were. How wrong I was, I mean. Yeah.

I’ve started this before, and had to abandon it, because it turned into something I didn’t want it to be. You see, I lost someone I cared about the other day, and it was sudden, and awful, and I was not…because you cannot ever be…ready. I was GUTTED. I couldn’t get my shit together. I have never in my life fallen on the floor because I literally could not stand up beneath the weight of what I had just learned, but I did that, I did it when I heard about this death on Monday morning. I fell right on the floor. The tears did not waste a moment in coming, and the sounds that I made for the next two days were feral and weird and would have been embarrassing if I gave a fuck. Which, by the way, I did not.

I missed two days of work, but I have been checked out all week. I can’t seem to get my thoughts to move too far past this event. “Joe is dead.” my head keeps reminding me, as if I could forget. “Psst- Joe died.”

And here’s the thing: I don’t really cry. It’s been a concern of mine for a while, like- is something wrong with me? Is something in there broken, that I never cry? This has been a real worry I’ve had, one that I have discussed with friends and even with my therapist. I’ve thought about getting acupuncture, or that kind of massage that unblocks your fucked up energy, whatever it’s called. I honestly thought I had problems (Oh wait, I do. But that’s not what I am talking about, thanks). What I had was just a bunch of little shit not important enough to cry over. Because I have cried this week. A lot.

I don’t really want to write about Joe. I just don’t. I will say this much- anyone who knows me well, knows that I loved him. I’ve let a lot of friendships fall to the wayside as my life has changed, but I held onto his. I am having a tough time imagining my life without his visits for coffee, or playing cards with my six year old and I. I liked talking to him so much. He made me feel like I should be proud of my life, as if he were proud of the life I have made for myself. I can’t even put it into words without making it sound so paltry, and it wasn’t, so I’m going to stop. The point is, I will miss him.

Back to first times- so, this is the first time that I have ever tried to go through something like this without putting a drug or a drink in my body to change the way I felt. I have to say, it really sucks. I mean, Jesus, the FEELINGS I have had to FEEL this week. Oh, Lord. It’s like the difference between turning on your kitchen sink, and smashing open a fire hydrant. I realize that if I want to hold onto my clean date, intoxication is not an option for me, but man, a stiff drink would have been really welcome at a few points these past few days.

There is a reading in Just For Today that talks about loss in recovery. I always skip over that one, because it seems so morbid and jinxy to me. I hate that reading. It just came up not too many days ago, and I skipped over it again- such a downer. I think I should probably go read it, now that I am feeling less volatile. What I really feel like is this: I’m glad I got to grieve this death clean. My friend deserved all those tears, and that grief, for the loss of his life. That probably sounds so weird, but I know what I mean. I’m not trying to put down the way anyone else copes with grief, not even. I’m just saying, for me, I’m happy to get to be fully present for it. If it had to be this way, I want to show up all the way.

It’s Friday. I have to go into the office today, and be around people for the first time all week, and I think it will be okay. I think everything is going to be okay. I am just going to keep doing this because that is what we all have to do, right? Life really does go on. The world stands still for a beat…and then it just goes on. Rest in Peace, Joe. I love you.