Hello Hors, and thank you for welcoming me. I feel ok today and have a blood test scheduled for early this afternoon. Unfortunately my sugar isn't so good. I don't know if I'll just see the nurse or the doctor himself for just giving blood. I'd like to see my physician and tell him I've been drinking too much. I know he has experience in treatment in that field. He needs to know. I fear what my liver enzymes look like, but they'll be part of the test too. I don't want confrontation, so maybe I'll just wait and sit down with him when we go over my results next week.
My love and I talked about last Thursday night. I was reminded what I said after I fell on the bedroom floor. I didn't need to be reminded. I actually dwelled on it for days. Events from my childhood were (and are still) at the front of my memory. Some fuzzy, some clear. Events that no child should experience EVER. Events that I really never spoke about or dealt with. I don't want them to become an excuse for drinking or blaming the adults involved. I want to be responsible for my drinking, not blaming others or events. Sometimes I know I take on too much responsibility, even that which is not mine, which is frustrating. In family dynamics, I play many roles: the scapegoat, the child, the adult, and all these roles come with duties.
In a family as dysfunctional as mine, it's a crime to lay such burdens on a little kid. For nearly 50 years I've carried weights on my shoulders that aren't mine. I look forward to the day when I feel emotionally lighter. My love know this too. I spilled some of the beans Thursday night. While I slept off the alcohol, my love cried.
I was reminded yesterday that I have 100% support for whatever I need to do to kick this. Who else can say that? To have my hand held and kissed. Whatever it takes. I am genuinely loved. I have something that not many people have, and I better start appreciating it more.
My mother married at least 6 times (that I know about.) My father 3 times, but I think he had illicit affairs on the side. They were both alcoholics as well. There are ugly, ugly histories with both of them. I am glad they're dead and often curse them.
Maybe one day I can forgive them. I am still a bitter man because of their choices. My head's getting cloudy and I know I'm babbling, and it's only 8:30 AM and I'm on my first coffee!
I think of smoking every day, and there are 2 half packs in the house. My security blanket. 1, my brand, the other one, not. I successfully quit before in Jan, 2001, but something peculair happened two block away from my office on September 11th. I bought a pack of cigarettes for my nine mile walk home because the crowds and the noise were making me numb. When I got to my neighborhood, as my legs were cramping up, I ducked into a pub to watch the events of the day unfold on TV. I drank and smoked the rest of the day away.
Thanks Everyone for listening!
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