Day 197 - A Story & A Snack

Kindergarten children have it sewn up when they are sad. They lean on someone they can trust looking for reassurance, and are told it will soon be time for a story & a snack. At that time all will be well in their worlds. 

I find comfort in knowing I've allowed myself to trust again, if only finding it in one other soul as of late. But it is progress. Days lately have been wrought with futile attempts to move forward. Money is non existent and food tends to be a luxury item. The harder I work the less I seem to have to show for it. This too shall pass I keep telling myself. 

Depression is a dangerous animal to give shelter to. It whispers darkness that steals light and joy. And within its silence a deafening roar of futility drowns out all progress made in the months past. 

It is here where I turn to the one I've grown to trust to illuminate the shadows I slip into. And with a smile, a hug, and a quick fill up of kisses to the dimple in my chin (so as I keep my chin up lest the kisses fall out) I am offered a story and a snack along with the promise that life is going to be great again. 

And that keeps me going another day more!

Day 94 - Tomorrow, Tomorrow...

It's only a day away...

Day 93 - Suicide Solution?

"Wine is fine, but whiskey's quicker

Suicide is slow with liqueur

Take a bottle, drown your sorrows

Then it floods away tomorrows

Away tomorrows

Evil thoughts and evil doings

Cold, alone you hang in ruins

Thought that you'd escape the reaper

You can't escape the master keeper

'Cos you feel life's unreal, and you're living a lie

Such a shame, who's to blame, and you're wondering why

Then you ask from your cask, is there life after birth

What you saw can mean hell on this earth

Hell on this earth..."

Leave it to me - the consummate drama king to quote the lyrics from a man who boasted about snorting a line of ants. But then again, who am I to judge?

Before you all call the authorities, let me put your minds at ease. I don't plan on offing myself. Yes, that thought has been front and center in my brain today, but I've lived through the fallout. I won't do that to anyone else. Nor am I intending on drinking myself into a stupor. 1 or 2 bloody maries, yes... Stupor, no. Drugs, no. Besides, it is Sunday and not only are the liquor stores closed, but I couldn't even think of where I could find illegal substances in a place I've been away from for 25 years! Besides, I'm broke & homeless. 

No, I'm angry and frustrated. There is a broken record on this turntable of life for me, and I have reached "meltdown mode."

So I write. Alone. In a strange place. Sober. 

I stress SOBER because I have been accused very recently of being an alcoholic. 

I am not an alcoholic. 

My Father is an alcoholic. 

My Ex-Wife is an alcoholic. 

My Ex-Fiancé is an alcoholic and drug addict. 

I am neither. 

I am, however, in incomprehensible pain. 

And every day I tell myself to get through to another sunrise. And every day I do. I will cry myself to sleep tonight for the first time in a month. But I will also wake up to a new day tomorrow, just as I have for my entire life. 

I broke a Jim Beam bottle by accident a couple of days ago. It was about 3/4 full. I drank a little vodka with a Bloody Mary or two Thursday & Friday about 4 hours before I worked. Friday being an all nighter - pulling in the driveway at 8am Saturday morning. It was not the 1st time I worked all night to try and meet a monetary goal. I'm busting my ass 60+ hours a week to dig out of the hole I am in so that I can get a place of my own again!!!

The difference now is the perception of others. Others that care and worry about my well being. Of which I am grateful. Without those souls I would be completely lost. But, as I've said for many years: perception is one's reality. And my Demons tend to fuck with people's minds as much as they do my own. 

And it doesn't take much of them to bend reality towards perception. 

Whiskey bottle gone, small vodka bottle 3/4 empty, out all night Friday night walking in bleary eyed 8:00am Saturday morning, shaking, feeling ill, and sleeping 4 or 5 hours on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Hell, if I didn't know me I'd think the same thing. 

But reality is a far different galaxy from perception. And my reality is the stuff of fiction in that galaxy - far, far away... But, unfortunately, it is true... All of it...

The long & short of reality is that I thought I wanted a drink. I was alone and blue, and like an idiot my Demons & I thought we could find some courage by talking to Mr. Jim Beam. MY reality set in and advised otherwise. And as I went to move the bottle back to the bar it slipped and broke cleanly off at the neck of the bottle, spilling its contents on the tile kitchen floor. I cleaned up the breakage, mopped the floor, put the broken shards of glass in a double bag and into the trunk of my car. After plugging tires on 2 other occasions I felt it better to dispose of jagged shards of glass in a mall dumpster down the road, instead of in the driveway trash can. 

But perception makes me an alcoholic trying to hide alcohol consumption... Or so the Demons say...

After I cleaned up my mess I sat down and cried. My self loathing surged and I sat and cried feeling sorry for myself for a number of hours.

I opened a small vodka bottle and had a couple of Bloody Mary cocktails at that point. Yes, I gave in a little. I'm fucking human! I cried, got it out of my system, gave myself a pep talk, took a shower, shaved, combed my hair, dressed, cleaned the cat box, kissed Frances, and 3 hours later was out the door trying to put my best foot forward to make some money. 

Here's the thing - I drive for a living now. 

I DO NOT DRINK & DRIVE!!!

My Father had a DUI. 

My Ex-Wife had a DUI. 

My Ex-Fiancé had THREE DUI's. 

If I want to have a Bloody Fucking Mary HOURS before I drive, know that I am an intelligent enough human being to know the difference between .08 and sober! And if that doesn't suit you - tough shit! It wouldn't be the first time the truth has been obliterated regarding me, my character, and my life!!! My character assassination has more bullet holes now than an 80's action movie!!!

All I want to do is start my life over. I don't know if you that read these posts can fathom what it is like to start over at mid-life from literally nothing. No job, no home, no money, nothing! I work over 60 hours a week - 7 days a week - praying to God that my car can make it another month without service so that I can save enough money to put a deposit down on a shit hole of an apartment. But because my Ex-Wife is a vindictive bitch she-devil from Hell, I have been forced into bankruptcy. I have no credit because of her. I couldn't finance a TV dinner because of her. That makes it very difficult to find an apartment without $500 to over $1000 in deposit plus 1st & last month rent. Now that my Ex-Fiancé has stolen everything else I had left, I do not even have a bed to lay down in after I come up with a couple grand to even find a home. And the rooms that are furnished are slums not unlike where I had previously had BOTH a gun to my head and a knife at my throat. 

I hate my life at present. I am trying to change it!

The world is a cruel and rotten place. All I have is my character. And when that comes in question I begin to feel lost. And suicidal thoughts begin whispering in my head. Self loathing reaches a climax. I cry. I hate. I rage against the world. 

Then the little voice of reason pipes up in my head and says, "Have a Coke and a smile... Tomorrow we can give it another go! Close your eyes and rest. You can fight the world again tomorrow! Let your heart and mind rest. Until tomorrow..."

And the record on the turntable keeps spinning... And the needle hasn't moved in 4 months...

I'm terrified. For the first time in my life I am genuinely scared to death. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I want to be optimistic. And I will try to move the needle on the broken record again tomorrow...

But now, tears to sleep...