Not Relaxin' with BfB

Boozeopause Sucks.

You're cruising along, everything is fine, everything is great and then kaBOOM, BITCH! Right now I am a quivering hypersensitive wreck, and I have absolutely no idea why. And if I did I'd probably think that that's all my fault as well.

What?!?

Has anyone else gone through this? Is it normal? Will I be "normal" again?

Relaxin' with BfB

12 weeks/3 months clean. And, more than ever I'm feeling good: confident, unburdened and relaxed. Yes, relaxed. Me, the very epitome of nervous neurosis. Because I'm not worried about it anymore. I don't have to keep up with the maintenance: wondering if we have enough (never enough), planning how to get more, sneaking more, wondering who knows what, retracing my steps in horror and wondering what I said and how...I can now just relax (well, as much as I can relax) and just be. And it's great.

I'm to the point now where all the cliches are ringing absolutely true, albeit cheesy. Truly I was sick and tired... And a million times over, yes: my worst day today is better than my worst day then. I still can't totally relax. I still don't know the extent of the damage I did, the alienation I may have caused, etc. And I'll live with that shame and try my damdest to make it better. But it's out of my hands, and all I can do is sit back and wait and see.

I'll do my best to relax while I'm waiting. It feels kinda good to do so...

The Best Part of Schadenfreude

I’ve always been all about schadenfreude. Or so I thought. The problem is that while I’m always happy to see someone get what they truly deserve – think of a swell in an Escalade passing on a double line, swerving back over and getting stuck behind a sewer truck – I can’t really wish true ill on anyone, even that swell in the Escalade.

But I’m still an asshole, and taking part in a suffering collective has always defined me. Gallows humor, and all. My rogue gallery of degenerates and I have always found that the cure for pain is embracing it, talking about it and laughing it out. You’re on Zoloft? Well I’m on Zoloft AND Lexapro! We’re all FUCKED! This camaraderie has been incredibly healing over the years, in a Ramones-ian “One of Us” kind of way.

BUT I’m really all about trying to be good, doing good deeds and taking care of people. I’m never happier than I am cooking for company, having a house full of laughs, giving a good present…definitely no schadenfreude there.

So yeah…schadenfreude light?

No, Benevolent Schadenfreude. Yes, a seeming contradiction. But as the phrase popped into my head while meeting with my substance abuse counselor tonight, it became official articulation of the guiding principle of my life. Doing good, but enjoying it greatly when someone not doing good trips up and falls. Snark and bitchery, but with affection in the spirit of solidarity and commiseration.

It’s not much in the grand scheme, but it’s great to finally have a phrase to describe my ethos and life mission. It all makes sense now…

Are You There, God? It's Me, BfB...

Listen, I know you and I haven't been all that tight, and honestly, I don't see that changing. I'm all about Sunday sloth and football, and I'm cool with just trying to be a good person, do good deeds and not be too much of an asshole. All in moderation, right? So maybe I'm misdirecting this.

But seriously, Dude: can you cut the shit?

I mean, how much more can "you" throw down? Do you know all that's been going on at once these last few months? I make a royal ass out of myself as I spiral out-of-control drunk into an agonizing hell pit, get myself together and recover, and all while you're moving half of my departments out of my building to Carolina, tripling my workload and now topping your shit pie with a big scoop of fart ice cream in the form of the health issues you've bestowed upon Mrs. BfB?

I am seriously thisclose to fucking snapping. You think I'm made of tempered steel here? I mean, I am, and you know my gallows humor, sense of optimism and perspective have gotten me through all of this. And if I'm tearing you a holy new one for being such a dildo, I suppose I have to say thanks for those gifts and for the REAL gifts of my family and friends: the rock of my life.

But still...can I have a little normal? A little flatline? Get Mrs. BfB through the procedure, then lay off for a bit? Can ya?

Maybe I'll be a little more in touch if you could...
BfB

Counting on Two Hands

Ten weeks ago right now I was wearing a gown, "sleeping" on a rubber mattress and having my vitals checked every four hours. What a ride it's been since. The most agonizing, mortifying, liberating, encouraging time of my life...