20 Days In The Hole

Leave a reply

I haven’t written about my emotions in quite some time. Hell, I’ve been trying to escape them with the drink. At least, I think that’s what I’ve been doing. Really, I’d lost my focus and my direction a long time ago and finding the numbness seems like it was my guiding principle, if I could even be accused of having a guiding principle.

Anyway, I just finished Day 20. And it was a hard day to close out.

I woke up early, got showered and dressed, poured half a cup of coffee down the hatch and then left the house with my 14 year old son. It was a brisk winter morning, cold but not unbearably so. We got on the public transit together; he would be getting off at his regular stop to go to school and I would be continuing on downtown. My destination: my initial intake drop-in appointment with Addiction Services.

The initial appointment didn’t take all that long, I filled out some paperwork and talked to an advisor who gave me a list of groups and classes and programs to get into before taking the next step.

I left there feeling powerful and strong and in control. I maintained that feeling until the afternoon. It was quiet; my wife was still sleeping, my kids are at school and everything that’s on TV is shit. I’m bored and I’m coming off that endorphin high.

One thing that I’ve learned about myself is that with every major extroverted expenditure of emotion I have, be it joy or rage or love or frustration, the event ultimately leaves me in an emotional deficit. I become quiet, introverted… and then the dark thoughts enter.

At this point, I haven’t quite wanted a drink yet… but I’m feeling uncomfortable. Kind of like I’m a bit stir crazy and maybe thinking a little too much. The boredom doesn’t help. So, I channel flip and grow slightly anxious. I clean up and rearrange the desk in the Man Room to keep my head and body busy. My MacBook Pro gets set into place. So far, it’s working.

The kids get home from school and the wife wakes up; there is a whole bunch of coming and going with everyone that doesn’t include me until everyone is gone for the evening. The younger two boys make their way home together via public transit around 10:30pm. During that time on my own, I’d drank two cans of Dr. Pepper, watched the Detroit Red Wings beat the Edmonton Oilers in overtime, cursed out my Apple TV and watched episodes 1 and 2 from season 2 of The Strain on my MacBook. 

(The Strain was supposed to be FX’s answer to AMC’s The Walking Dead, which it fails miserably at. Taking it out of that context, however, it’s not half bad.)

Anyway, during the whole day there are tons of commercials for Molson Canadian, Coors Light, Budweiser, Gibson’s Finest, Crown Royal, Ketel One and programming showing people drinking straight vodka or Scotch out of refined glasses during what is a burgeoning apocalypse. I don’t think you realize how much is there until you’re trying to ignore it. 

For me, the advertising and seeing people drink in shows doesn’t seem to affect Me yet. It’s the boredom. It’s the loneliness. It’s the seeming lack of purpose that drives me to want a drink. That feeling I had all afternoon and into the evening. I acknowledged that I could walk to the liquor store and buy a bottle or a case of beer. But what would have been the purpose? What would be the end game for that? What would be the gain?

I couldn’t figure it out so I went to bed and started writing this post. Because I need to tell someone. Even if I don’t know you. 

 

Coming Up Dry

Leave a reply

One thing that I’ve noticed… and I mean DISTINCTLY noticed since going sober is that my interest in sex has tanked faster than Drake’s libido after he was kissed by Madonna. 

I’ve always had a healthy appetite, even to the point where I recently had to get myself off five times in one day. But since Day Zero, that lust has faded. I’ve reached deep into my spank bank for the best material, I’ve found some great porn vids that would normally have made me dump a load and have me snoring in less time than a prime time TV commercial break. 

Now? Yeah right. I can barely even get turned on. I did get off yesterday evening though for the first time in a couple of weeks. I just hope this trend continues. 

Out of joint.

Leave a reply

It’s called a Posterior Dislocation. 

Basically, the upper joint on my humerus was forced out of its socket in the shoulder towards the back rather than out the front like the majority of dislocations tend to occur. I can’t say from personal experience whether one is more painful than the other as this is the first time I’ve ever dislocated my shoulder. All I can say is that it hurt… A LOT.

The real question is with respect to the severity of the damage I’ve done. Have I torn my rotator cuff? Only an MRI will tell me and that’s something that I’m booked in for tomorrow evening. From there, I find out if I have to go under the knife to repair it. The suspense is killing me, I swear. 

Ten Days Sober

2 Replies

I’ve finished ten days of sobriety. Admittedly, I’m an alcoholic and it took a 36+ hour bender followed by a withdrawal seizure where I dislocated my arm in the process to commit me to sobriety. Granted, I’m off work right now on short term disability however things have been going well on my recovery. Going back to work will be the real test of my fortitude but, at this moment, I feel liberated. I feel like I’ve cast off the shackles that alcoholism has clasped around my ankles and wrists. It feels really positive. 

Take The Pain Away

Leave a reply

Just over ten months ago, I was involved in an automobile accident. More precisely, I was rear-ended by a truck travelling at a high rate of speed on the freeway heading home from work. Another truck had lost a load of insulation on the freeway ahead which caused traffic to slow to a crawl.

I was driving my 2014 Mazda 3 Sport that I’d owned for approximately 9 months. I slowed down to match the rate of speed of the rest of traffic ahead of me however the truck behind me did not. The truck impacted my car sending me into the rear end of the truck in front of me and then careening off into the ditch.

My car was damaged beyond repair. The trunk and back seat were flattened to the point of being non-existent and the front end was pushed in approximately six inches as a result of the impact with the truck in front of me.

Fire crews and paramedics arrived on the scene within minutes. As they were unable to ascertain whether or not I had a spinal cord injury as a result of the violent collision, the proceeded with caution and opted to use the Jaws Of Life to cut my now demolished Mazda apart to extract me from it. I was then carefully lifted onto a spinal board where they immobilized me before lifting me into the awaiting ambulance.

I was taken to the hospital for an X-ray and kept under observation for a couple of hours. After my doctor reviewed my X-ray results, he deemed me to have no spinal cord injuries and he released me. This would begin the long process of rehab; nurses at the hospital advised me that the immediate pain would subside over a couple of days and that I’d probably experience soreness and aching that would last for some time.

I went through months of rehab that would often leave me with an aching neck or shoulders as well as a headache… but as the saying goes, “no pain, no gain.”

Eventually, my insurance company would cut off my rehab appointments. And, at first, I felt ok and my neck did not feel too bad. I was optimistic about my long term prognosis!

Over the past two weeks, however, this optimism has faded. This past two weeks have been… painful. I don’t want to call it ‘agonizing’ as this would be melodramatic but having a persistent headache and daily neck pain changes my day to day outlook.

I’ve come to grips with the fact that, as a result of this accident, I will never be the same and will require constant rehab to stave off headaches as well as neck and shoulder pain. How I’m going to pay for it, however… that’s another issue.

Sometimes, I feel like the bad doctor.

Leave a reply

https://youtu.be/Pbjypn9JtKE​

…especially in the wake of so many of my talented and intelligent coworkers are being laid off. And then there’s me… maybe not homogenously unqualified but I definitely do not have the intellectual and professional pedigree that these people do. But here I am, moving into a newly created position with massive potential and my professional friends are being terminated.

How far can you coast on charm? Well pretty far, actually.