The fragile nature of life...

My phone's message alert went off as soon as I turned it back on this afternoon. I had been in a meeting, and when I came out there it was. I answered it and a very serious voice asked me to please call her as soon as I got this-it was important.  I called, and was told that a friend of mine had died that morning. A relatively healthy 40 something alcoholic who could not stop drinking and stay stopped to save her life.

 She had lived here for a little over 6 months, out in the studio apartment, while she tried one more time to get sober.  She did alright for a while, and then, as usual, she as back on another bender. After a couple of these, I asked her to please move out, as I could not have that here. Our agreement was that she could live there as long as she stayed sober.

  She managed to quit drinking a couple of more times since then, only to have some catastrophe or crisis send her back into the bottle again.  She lost her last in a string of temporary jobs. Her son wanted nothing to do with her.  Her boyfriend that she had a love/hate relationship with, told her to get out of his life...he couldn't take it any more.

I am deeply saddened by her demise. She was a wonderful human being when she was sober. I knew a side of her that was all soft and loving and breakable. The outer persona was brittle and brutal and sometimes  mean. Always keeping her guard up. Always such a child in there. 

Unfortunately for people like her, and like me, and like so many I know....this is what we get.  If we drink, we die.  We absolutely cannot drink for any reason , of any amount, in any way. Complete abstinence is our only hope. We crush the people who love us, we do things we would not normally do, we hate ourselves with such a ferocity it is unimaginable.

If we are lucky, we find ourselves in a life and death situation where recovery is the only option.  I am so grateful that I had the shit kicked out of me by life one last time, right after I got arrested for druink driving.  I am so grateful that there was no where else for me to go. I suspect that if there had been one more shot, I would have not made it here. Like my friend, I would have kept hitting myself in the head with that bottle until finally my head split wide open (metaphorically speaking) and all the life drained out of me.

  I have known so many people these past 20 years that have died. Because they could not live with alcohol or without it.  Because they could never be convinced they were worth saving.  Because they had to chase that high, that buzz, one more time. Because this might be "the" time they got the relief they were looking for.  And they are dying of things that don't look like death by drugs or alcohol...but they are. Things like seizures and respiratory arrest and cerebral hemmorhages. Things like massive heart attacks. Things like intestinal bleeding.  People who are worn out and used up and oh so tired of the tragic comedy they have been living for far too long. People who have only 2 choices left to them. Live. Or Die.

I am feeling so bereft tonight. I know that there is nothing I could have done differently. I know that none of this has anything to do with me, really. But I also know that in my heart I will continue to wonder if there wasn't something I could have said  or something I could have given her that could have prevented this.  It is all so tragic. Her 17 year old son will continue the rest of his life without his mother. Her parents and step parents have lost their daughter. And I have lost a friend...

 At last, she has peace.

 RIP, M.R.

May 17, 2011

Namaste.

Thumping Thursday

A quickie post tonight..

My grandson is staying here for the next couple of days, he's very upset over something that's happened between him and his biological father that involves copious amounts of alcohol. He was removed from the situation by his other grandparents. We're trying to work with his mom and my son to keep him with family and safe ...and comforted. He's terribly sad and anxious. No child should have to deal with our alcoholism, but they always do. He's 12, and has been living with my son and his mother for over 8 years now. We talked and talked tonight after I got home from the womens meeting , and I sat with him until he fell asleep, surrounded by his guardian angels on the sofa bed. Molly, Lucy, Caylee, Popo. Frank, Junko, Lily, and Sam are all laying close and keeping him company. Bless his little heart. I guess it got pretty ugly and his dad was screaming things at him and throwing bottles against the walls. He said Nana, you wouldn't believe all the things he was saying about my mom and Tom and you guys and my other grandparents. I tried to explain that sometimes when people are real drunk, they don't know what they're saying and they say things they don't really mean. But he is heartbroken and says he never wants to go there again.

We talked and talked, and I gave him a journal to write down his feelings in. It has a picture of a Sharpei on the front, and he sat in bed tonight and started writing. I told him it was his private property and nobody else had to see it, but maybe writing in it would help him sort out his feelings a bit. He is such a doll of a kid, I hate seeing this happening in his life.

It brings to mind why I feel so especially blessed to not be THAT drunk anymore...that I don't have to have poison spewing out of my mouth at the drop of a hat. That I don't have to break the hearts of children anymore. That I don't have to burn every bridge I ever had.

It serves as a grim reminder of what I could have back if I dropped my vigilance and the work I do in recovery to stay sober.

It reminds me of what a monster the disease of alcoholism really is... And how it chews us up and spits us out all over the road.

I am way grateful today for the Red Road, and for the relationship I have with my Creator. And to know that if I don't pick up a drink or a drug today...I have a chance at a life filled to the brim with love and happiness.


Namaste.

Tuesday's Monday...

[The long road home....]

Just could not manage to post last night, even though (as you can imagine) I had a lot to say. LOL

It was a day of mixed emotions, as one of our members was found dead in his apartment. Fully clothed, in the bathtub. Neck broken, from a fall apparently. This guy was one of the beloved "characters" around here. Came around the rooms for years and could never get this thing. Finally got dry and stayed that way for almost 3 years, when he relapsed once again at Christmas time. That was his one chance, I guess. He could never get sober again. He had just come out of a VA rehab and was drunk again within hours. I hope he didn't suffer...he lived alone and I don't know how long it was before someone found him. On the other hand, the fight is over for him. RIP.

I am blessed that I knew this guy, in his better moments he was a shining example of how anyone can get sober if they just don't quit trying. He was also a shining example of what happens when we think we can try it one more time.

I am blessed that I had my last drink in June of 1990 and have not found it necessary to do any more research into the deadly game of alcoholism so far.

I am blessed to be a part of something bigger than me, that gives me hope.

We had a wet drunk in the meeting yesterday, and I got one more bird's eye view of ME when I first darkened the doors of AA.

Full of gratitude from a preview of life in the drunk lane...and the knowledge that I don't ever have to drink again if I don't want to. So, I have to keep doing the simple things that keep making me not wa nt to.

Namaste.