It is Sunday, and this new interface is called “Calypso,” and I don’t like it at all. It is very wonky, and all JAVA, and is supposed to be better than sliced bread … Um, NO !
I want my old post editor back. Much more user friendly.
It is on the cold side, the past two nights. We saw flurries fall a couple of times today, but there is NO snow in the forecast in the next week.
It was an odd weekend. I saw the baby the other night, and she was sniffling and coughing. On Friday morning at approximately 5 a.m. i was hugging the bowl, sick as a dog for twelve hours.
I find that I am so thirsty for anything to drink, and I went to the store twice and spent $30.00 on drinkables, yet I could not quench that thirst, it was insane, not that I kept anything down enough to enjoy it. Hubby brought me meds after work, and I took them and was able to sleep until almost 11 p.m. because I was up so early and did not sleep all day long.
I had the funkiest dream … I was stuck in this warehouse of 70’s and 80’s stuff, like video games, toys and it got crazy when I was sitting in an old style Burger King, playing with toys and food. It just kept getting odder and odder, and it was never ending. Back in the day, I had specific toys, and things I liked. Roller skates, and Solid Gold on tv. It was just odd because I’ve never had visuals like this before.
Saturday, I had things to do, and responsibilities that I had to be present for, so there was no time to lay in bed and feel sick or sorry for myself. I had back to back meetings in another fellowship I belong to. During our two hour break between them, I had dinner with friends, down line, and we watched some John Oliver on You Tube.
We’ve been talking about rigorous honesty of late. It is funny, that the one section of my life that I wanted to forget and never talk about or mention to anyone, has become my greatest teacher, and brought me into the lives of men who have changed my life.
This morning, well, for a while now, I’ve been riding my pre-cake roller coaster, that 30 day period that comes before you take your anniversary cake, when your brain goes on overdrive, and one begins to obsess over needless and useless shit.
But this morning, I needed a brain drain, so I got up and opened a word document, and wrote my script for my share on my anniversary next Sunday. I had very specific things to say, so I wrote them down, so I would not fuck it up. It is going to be explosive.
Tonight we sat only a small number. Lots of people still out sick, and we did not empty the coffee urn once again. wasted coffee…
It was Tradition Night, and the eleventh month, means the eleventh tradition. Attraction rather than promotion. That topic of anonymity came up but not many people spoke towards it.
What I did have to say was that the first time I got sober, the room I was in was very nasty and not attractive at all, but that’s where I could hit a meeting, however harsh my peers were towards newcomers. That shitty experience, only added to my alienation from the program and my eventual slip. I had come in contact with enough assholes and homophobes that I was totally turned off with participation and sobriety.
The second time I came in, it was a whole other story. The right people showed up at the right moment, and were very good for me. And when I moved to Montreal, (read: No cell phones yet), I met great people who were attractive in many ways. They took me in and took care of me, and spent time with me, so I was not alone.
I remember one really fun memory… My sponsor at the time, Dave, took me to the mountain in the middle of the night, to climb.
There is a mountain in the middle of the city. There is a trail you can walk, up and down. But on this night, he said that we were going to climb to the top, up the side, and not use the trails. It was odd, but very fun. That was just one of the many attractive things that I did in early sobriety. The other was a few months in, 4 alcoholics climbed into a Toyota and drove all the way from Montreal to Nova Scotia on the Atlantic coast for some meetings, and a whale watching tour. That was 17 hours each way. It was fun but a bit irresponsible.
It was a good night. More to come, stay tuned…
Courtesy: Flickr James Clear
The weather is beginning to turn. We are now the fourth week of November and we are heading into negative territory. Currently it is a flat ZERO outside. It was nippy when I left the house this evening, and it was colder when I left, even with layers, as it was, I was chilled.
It was an uneventful weekend. Santa Claus rolled through the city on Saturday morning. Our building sits on the step off corner for all the parades that roll through the downtown core, placing us at the maximum viewing point.
Last night we had a good showing for the Saturday night meeting. And we talked about resisting change.
The book says that when we get sober, the only thing we have to change is everything …
Easier said than done.
I departed as usual and like I said, it was chilly out. It was a good thing that the church’s heating system is computerized. It was nice and toasty when I opened up. We were missing all of our women tonight. The flu is making its way around at the moment.
We sat a small crowd, and read a story that was 14 pages long, so we made two circuits around the room, and then the room got to talk about it.
Some of the old stories are really harsh. Back in the day, not unlike today, in some cases, the man in our story really had it bad. A late bloomer, in regards to when he began to drink, unlike most stories, the early writers, for the most part, were weaned on alcohol, it seemed.
If you end up in a sanitarium once, you might have a problem. In our man’s case tonight, he hit Bellevue hospital thirty five times. Yes, that is correct, 35 times.
He not only drank, he got married, had three children, and was in the hole for most of the story. It was one of the saddest stories we have read to date.
Most sad stories, even in our book, have somewhat happy endings, wherein our folks, find the way, the meet us, get sober, and turn their lives around. But not before some major loss or tragedy.
Early on, a son of our man grows up and with not even two nickles to rub together, becomes a show shine boy, were talking the late 1930’s. He makes some change, but further on in the story, his drunk father happens upon him and dad takes his earnings, and drinks them away.
It is a bad scene. You think, in this read, that things just could not get any worse, and that eventually, he has to Get It. Our man eventually does get it, the kicker in the story was the loss of that son to a streetcar accident.
Now the story reads … nobody would begrudge him a drink, after loosing a child. But bolstered by two recovering alcoholics, one under each arm, our man tackles, identifying his sons remains, then burying that son, sober …
Some of us have had tragic loss in our lives. For myself, when that happened to me, it was the drink that soothed the visual and helped kill the pain of loss, until Todd stepped in and got me the help I desperately needed. That was a year before my own personal tragedy.
You never know when the people in the room are going to come in handy, and to what degree some of us will go to to make sure our fellow men and women, get by, without taking that first drink.
The story talks about us drunks who go to meetings, and are happy, cleaned up folks, who help each other by swapping stories. That’s what our writer calls us, when he opens his story. Because when he was at his worst, he happens upon the rooms, and sees these men doing what they do best, and he just can’t believe his eyes.
But every one of us has a story, a journey we have to walk, before we finally figure it out and we come in.
I’ve had plenty of my share of tragedy. And I survived them.
In two weeks time, I will celebrate 14 years without a drug or a drink.
One day at a time …
More to come, stay tuned …
Christmas festivities will seem empty in a world which has chosen “war and hate”, Pope Francis said Thursday.
“Christmas is approaching: there will be lights, parties, Christmas trees and nativity scenes … it’s all a charade. The world continues to go to war. The world has not chosen a peaceful path,” he said in a sermon.
“There are wars today everywhere, and hate,” he said after the worst terror attack in French history, the bombing of a Russian airliner, a double suicide bombing in Lebanon, and a series of other deadly strikes.
“We should ask for the grace to weep for this world, which does not recognize the path to peace. To weep for those who live for war and have the cynicism to deny it,” the Argentine pontiff said, adding: “God weeps, Jesus weeps”.
The sermon threw a shadow over the start of the festive season at the Vatican, where a giant Christmas tree was unveiled.
The 25-metre (82-foot) high pine hails from former pope Benedict XVI’s homeland, the German state of Bavaria.
The tree, which will be decorated in time for the start of the Vatican’s Holy Year on December 8, will be festooned with ornaments made by children from cancer wards in hospitals across Italy.
This year’s nativity scene will be made up of 24 life-size figures, sculpted from wood and hand-painted.
In a nod to Pope Francis’s humble style, alongside the figures from the story of Jesus’s birth will be sculptures of ordinary people, including a man supporting an elderly person in need.
11 years ago tonight, with family and friends present, we exchanged vows and spoke sacred words. Today, we continue to live into those words. Tonight, we had dinner at the fabulous FIRE GRILL, once again.
I have shared before that there are three restos, that are at the top of the budget when it comes to dining out …
- Fire Grill
- Rueben’s Smoked Meats
- Baton Rouge
This short list is a foodies paradise of good eats.
I am grateful that I live in Canada. Due to recent events, in the world, people are at odds, and words are being spoken, that are totally, out of left field. I’m not sure most folks, politicians and leaders alike, know what they are saying.
My tight group of friends are at odds with each other, because of differing views of current events, and what each of them thinks, as to what we should do and how we should do it.
The ties of friendship are being tested. And if a second conversation that needs to take place, because the first one began and ended badly, doesn’t heal the rift, I am afraid that my circle will be broken over non-negotiable statements.
We are Canadian. And we, for the most part, share Canadian values, and for some, that is not good enough. Everybody has a right to their opinions, because of their origins, how they were educated, and how they each decide to live their lives.
No One Person has the definitive answer, because, let’s face it, we don’t. I don’t think a real, tangible, solid, workable answer is possible amid the heat of argument and prejudice.
Let us keep each other in our thoughts …
Notice I did not say “prayers…”
Religion has become a dirty word. People are choosing to incriminate all, due to the actions of “a few.” And that does not bode well, for an entire community of people, world wide.
One day we will see this for what it really is, and we will shake our heads and say to each other …”Was I really that stupid?”
Yes, we really are that stupid.
At least I can unfollow people. And I can turn the channel, and better yet, I can totally turn off my computer when it all gets to be too much of hateful overload.
More to come, stay tuned …
Hubby has a monthly Metro pass, that we both use. I had to drop labs this morning for my first lab run of the new drugs (read: Tivicay) I am testing at the moment. Six fifteen came very early this morning. It was still dark when I got to my bus stop to board.
The process was quick this morning, as I was only 15 numbers in when I got there.
Read: take a number and hurry up and wait for the next available agent…
Here in Montreal, public sector workers are on rotating strikes to demand better working conditions and better pay. Teachers across the island are on two days of strikes that began this morning. At the hospital, they were out marching and blowing those god damned vuvuzela horns.
I was like, can I shove that horn up your ass now. We’ve heard you and you are still blowing !!!
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Since we are in Christmas mode, thoughts eventually turn to what we are going to get each other for Christmas. Over dinner last night, I said to hubby that I only wanted one thing for Christmas, and that one thing was a new phone, since my HTC Hero is three years old and it only has two functions, One, to make calls, and Two, to listen to music.
He came back with “dammit, you spoiled my surprise!”
Like he could have kept his mouth shut in consideration of what I had asked for.
He was in the works to buy me a new I Phone 5S for Christmas.
He just blurted out what he was up to, so the gig is up.
We have broken our Anti-Apple crusade. Since we are a Windows house.
I will enter the new digital, phone crazy, doing multiple things all at the same time crowd.
Not that I engage in that kind of behavior now. I’m just not that connected to my phone, as people all over the place are. No matter where you go, people are fixated on their little screens, Face Booking, Texting or Tweeting.
I guess I will find out what the phone will do and learn how to multitask with that little device.
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This Friday, November 20th, is our 11th wedding anniversary.
I re-appropriated my mothers birthday. Since she is out of mind.
We are having dinner at a very fine steak house called FIRE GRILL …
Last year was the first time we dined there. It was a great dining experience. However it is not cheap by any means. But you get what you pay for in the end.
There are three restaurants in town that we dine at that are at the top of the monetary budget, which (read: $100.00 dinners) Rubens Grill and Smoked Meats, Baton Rouge in the Hyatt for Prime Rib and Ribs, and Fire Grill for outstanding steaks.
A few months ago my friend ken visited from California, he is a foody …
That week, I spent over $150,00 on food in just three sittings.
But it was money well spent !
Today there are only 40 shopping days until Christmas …
More to come, stay tuned …
When a group of well organized jihadists scheme, plan, and execute an attack on innocent people, they further prove that men of radical bent, will kill with impunity, with No regards to human life, No religion, and No creed.
They are killing in the name of corrupt ideology.
They are not killing in the name of Islam.
And they surely are not killing in the name of the Prophet, Peace be upon Him.
I kept my counsel until now, because I wanted to watch how the rest of the world framed this atrocity on human life. To see if there would be a backlash on Muslim people, and what kind of repercussions would take place.
One mosque in Ontario was burnt to the ground over the weekend.
I’ve relied mostly on European new agencies for news so that I would not get the taint that Western media tends to spin on any given subject.
The questions have been posed. Who did this, Why, Who funded them, and how did they plan and execute human atrocity and nobody was none the wiser. It did not blip on any radar, no security services had been alerted before hand.
And I read that the French Security services HAD dropped the ball.
The odd parking ticket, left at the club, where almost a hundred lost their lives, led to a hot bed of Jihadi men. Someone is going to pay, dearly.
The nationalities of the victims are coming to light, which then invites international scrutiny and investigations, in addition to the French authorities and French Security Services.
If the war had not been ramped up yet, it will now.
Here in Canada, the official Conservative opposition party, has put a motion forwards to our young rookie Prime Minister, to change his tack, and instead of pulling our air fighters from the Syrian theatre, to keep them there to assist in the destruction of Is.
The world is interconnected. We are one human family. We cannot say that we are not sad, or that we are unmoved.
We must speak up as One People and say “Je Suis Paris …”
Here in Montreal there has been an outpouring of sadness and solidarity over the weekend. Our community has marched in the streets, gathered at the French Consulate, and have spoken out as one in saying that we feel for Paris, and that we are here.
Canada is not immune to terrorism. But we are oceans and miles away from the center of action. And I guess that somewhat insulates us from the broader conflict. But does not make us immune to that “one off” lone wolf attack.
People still go about their business. But I sense that our community is a bit more aware of their surroundings, when out and about. You never know when the next hit is going to come, or from where.
We send all of our thoughts and prayers to the people of Paris and to France at large.
You are never alone. You are in our thoughts and prayers.
The scourge of jihadi terrorism will not win. We will find you and we will kill you.
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
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It was an uneventful weekend here. I am still in rest mode. I did what I had to do over the weekend. I spent time with friends, went to a few meetings, and rested in between.
Tonight was a big night in Montreal Sobriety.
Our humble Sunday Niters Group celebrated 52 years of being a meeting tonight.
In time speak, we are one of just a handful of meetings in the city that are so old. We have an illustrious history, and many old timers who were part of earlier incarnations of our meeting came tonight to celebrate with us.
14 years ago, Sunday Niters was located in a grand church names Saint Jame United, which is on the East end of town near Place Des Arts. The room had vaulted ceilings and a large kitchen with double ovens and counter space. Back in the day we had two meetings. One, a Step Discussion meeting, and Two, a Speaker meeting.
The holiday’s were the best back then, because we cooked massive Christmas Feasts and we fed hundreds of people, in the meeting and off the streets. It WAS the place to be at Christmas.
In 2009, we moved from the East end to our present location, St. Leon’s Church in Westmount, which is just shyly west, of Downtown Montreal. I am just a fifteen minute walk away.
We carried two meetings for a while, until numbers dropped off to far, and we dropped our speaker meeting opting for our single Literature Discussion.
One of our elder men spoke, then we discussed the Home Group. Afterwards there was a feast of food and drink and cake.
It was the first time in my memory that we had this big a turn out.
A good time was had by all.
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There has been a rumor running around our neighborhood for the past few weeks. On the way out to a meeting one Thursday night, we met up with a friend who worked in our Provigo, just downstairs.
I had commented to her that (over Thanksgiving) that the selection of good had changed to no name brands across the store. I had noticed that many of the name brands I purchase on a regular basis, had been phased out, for yellow box, no name same.
Her reply was, “they are going to close the store.”
Tonight, on the way out, I had to get some soda for the celebration. Now, I know all the cashiers on first name basis. And as I cashed out, she said to me, “will you miss us?” And I asked her why, and she replied, “they are closing the store on January 6th.”
I was like W.T,F.???
The stores lease is up and the Toyota dealership that owns the building, is taking over the space. There is a car dealership, just across the street from the Provigo. Upstairs, above the grocery store is the Toyota service center.
There is going to be a massive move of sites, and the other speculation is that condos are going to be built above the 4 story building that sits on that corner.
There are 4 grocery stores that serve our neighborhood. The IGA which is in the Alexis Nihon shopping mall, 3 blocks down. There is Adonis, which opened on the ground floor of the Seville Condo Project, which is two blocks down. And finally, P.A. grocery store which is a boutique store (which is directly across the street from Provigo, up the block, above Ste. Catherine’s street), with a butcher shop, fine foods, fruits and vegetables. (I don’t consider them a proper grocery store because I don’t shop there except for specialty items I can’t get anywhere else).
It is said that since Adonis opened a year ago, the Provigo sales have slumped enough that closing the store was the only option. I shop at Adonis, well, I shopped at Adonis for a while, and it looks like they are going to become our go to grocery store, because it is closer.
The Alexis Nihon Commission spent millions of dollars over the last year in renovating and retrofitting the mall to bring it up to spec. The IGA footprint was expanded to double its original footprint, and they offer a great shopping experience. However, carrying bags of groceries from the mall – home is going to be a real pain in the ass.
I might have to invest in a roller cart.
Christmas Decorations are up at the mall, and on the way home, I noticed that workers have begun framing out the new occupant (read: Canadian Tire) in the defunct Target space. A wall is being framed in front of the original frontage wall, which has a huge panel of windows to one side that rise to the second floor of the mall. We shall see what direction they take the new store.
The Big Switch is going to take place. The Old Canadian Tire is located on the floor above the ground floor, on the mezzanine. They are going to move it downstairs. Which opens up another store for new occupants. Winners is stuck between the Second and third floor (read: Parking) and they will stay where they are.
The old Target space is a larger footprint than the old Canadian Tire upstairs.
But, their car detail department won’t have a bay on the ground floor, so I am not sure how they are going to work that out. In the building proper, there is a massive car wash, a car service center for Canadian Tire, several business buildings (read: Towers) and many residential buildings (also towers) (read; Westmount Square), all incorporated into the original structure.
On the local scene, Le Square Condo project, just this week, raised its 20 story building crane onsite, that condo project is moving faster along, than Le Catherine, which is just a few spots down the street from home. Le Square, is on Cabot Square. Le Catherine, is on Ste. Catherine’s Street, just across the street from the new Starbucks that opened with the Seville Project last year.
With the loss of Provigo, and the addition of two MORE condo projects going up, the local shopping scene is going to change. Prices are either going to moderate in the existing stores, or they will go through the roof.
We will either Feast or Starve …
Time will only tell how the neighborhood is going to fare with loosing an anchor grocery store.
There are only 41 shopping days until Christmas …
Ho Ho Ho !!!!
More to come, stay tuned …
How often do we say to our friends, that, “yeah, everything’s fine, and I’m ok?” And how often do we tell ourselves that everything is fine, and we really want to believe that everything is fine, when in reality, everything is not fine. In fact, things are in really bad shape.
When we are always going, doing, and being, amid the business of our days, we (read: I ) tend to forget myself, because as long as I am not feeling it, or do I feel in distress, I can keep going, until that proverbial wall comes up and smacks me in the face.
Many people run on the premise that as long as I look good to you, then I don’t have to look at me. As long as I put up a good front, you won’t see what a mess I am on the inside, and how unmanageable my life is, as I am trying to manage your life instead.
Try as I might, I never want to admit defeat, in any sense. Try as I might, I feel like as long as I am breathing, and can do things, that I must do them, to the detriment of myself. I tend to take for granted that I am not twenty any longer, and that I am closer to fifty then I am to twenty.
I tend not to, or ever admit that I am that old. Nor do I ever admit that I can’t do everything that I have always done, to the extent that I put myself in mortal danger of sickness, and in the worst case scenario, death …
I’ve been living on borrowed time for so long, that always doing “something” all the time, is natural.
There is a story that comes to mind about Bill W. He never said that he was an alcoholic, however he was. In his life, we alcoholics, wanted to be near him, with him in meetings, and or talking to him about a great many things. Bill could not go out to a meeting and be himself. He never could walk in an anonymous room, and be anonymous. He was saddled with who he was and what he represented to everyone in the rooms.
He just could not “go to a meeting, for himself.”
For a long time now, I have been responsible for many meetings, meaning, I either had the key and had to open, come rain, or come shine, or snow. Or I had to do service, be it coffee, or set up or something else. And I have been doing this for years now. There are not many folks, who come to mind at the moment, who have stuck around, to take over or do something other than coming to a meeting here and there. People just don’t stick and stay where we need them to.
And you can’t ask or force anyone to do anything, either.
For the last month or so, I’ve been sick. The proverbial wall came up and smacked me in the face. And I did not like it, to admit that, I could not do something, kicking and screaming all the way, I had to give up responsibility for some of my chores to someone else. I really needed someone else to step up and be accountable.
My doctor said to me that for a while, until I finished treatment, that I had no other choice than to stay away from the baby, because babies are toxic breeding grounds for sickness and infection, inherently because they go to day care. And kids get sick. And they carry that sickness home with them.
And so over the last few months, being immuno-compromised, found that every time the baby coughed or sneezed, I got sick. This last round got worse and needed professional drugs to get better. I finally got “the message” when over the counter drugs stopped working. Because I was not “getting better.”
So I followed medical advice. I stepped back. And others stepped forward. And I took care of me for the past two weeks. I cut back my schedule. I turned things over to friends. I only hit half the meetings I usually hit, and I spent a great amount of time sleeping and resting, because that’s what my doctor said to do.
This week, as it happened, I began to return to my old life. But now, I am not as “responsible” as I was a month ago. I don’t have to do anything, at the moment. On Tuesday, I visited Baby mama and the baby for the first time in weeks. I also hit the Tuesday night meeting, for the first time in a month. I went for my visit, I stayed a little longer than usual, because I did not have to be “ON.”
I was able to just be me. I walked into the meeting, a friend is opening for me, the coffee was made, another friend was in the chair, and I could sit down, and go to a meeting, and just be me.
I can tell you that there was an entirely different vibe, that I had never felt before.
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The best gift we can give our friends is our presence. Being there, sitting with, showing up, and not necessarily having to do anything beyond, just being there.
I can do this today. Just be present.
Yesterday, I sat with one of my guys, and I listened to him work his Fourth and Fifth Step, in progression, in real time. I’ve never done that before, and I wasn’t sure just how to do that, so I prayed about it, and decided that it was necessary to see him through this portion of step work and that it just HAD to work.
Tonight, it rained. Well, it pissed rain was more like it. Enough rain was falling to warrant an umbrella, but pissy enough that you really didn’t need one.
A young lady spoke. Turns out she is “family.”
So young to be so wise. She walked a long road to get here. But she is here, nonetheless.
In the end, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
She speaks about God and how she sees God, and connects to him.
She also said that when things are good, she is connected to God. She really doesn’t think about God. But when things hurt or things get tough, she tends to forget God, and she disconnects.
And she has learned that lesson the hard way. Now she respects the connection with her higher power, which she chooses to call God. and she says …
I am Always Ok …
We are always ok. It just depends on how we look at things.
A good night was had by all.
More to come, stay tuned …
Another weekend is in the books. Today is day 4 of Nuclear Antibiotic Treatment. I was warned that they are the strongest antibiotics on the market, and they are also doing a number on my innards. I was very sick to my stomach this morning. UGH !!!
It has been an interesting week, and I get glimpses of clarity here and there.
I’ve spent so many months, being all things to all people, to the degree that I forget to pay attention to my own needs, mentally and physically. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends for so long, that the time came when I got knocked out of rotation, because I got really sick.
My doctors warns me to take it easy. “Taking it easy and just being” is difficult when you are always moving and engaged. God, in His infinite wisdom, has done for me what I could not do for myself.
Only this weekend, my voice is starting to return.
I’ve been hitting meetings, here and there, but I am not back to full steam with all my responsibilities across town.
I’ve been seeing the ugly side of my friends recently. And I don’t like what I am seeing, nor what I am hearing from their mouths. Sitting on Step Seven, God is showing me Character Defects and Shortcomings in the guise of my friends and fellows.
Everybody in the rooms is on their specific journey. Not all men and women sit at the same place on any given day. Some are taking it easy and trudging along as they are able, and for some of my friends, they are judgmental about the status progress of their fellows.
Judgmental enough to state that they have specific expectations of their fellows, and that, if you aren’t in it to win it, working your steps and being On Top Of Things 100% at their behest, that there is a certain price to be paid for lack of action.
And that price is the friendship and attention and care that some may bring others, because they feel as if they need to punish some for their inability to “get things done, on their time frame, to their liking.”
And I the thought came that those same friends who expect so much from others, aren’t even engaged in their own step work, none of them. Every time we bring that subject up, they are all busy.
I don’t suggest any work for any of my guys, unless I am it in myself. And I am.
How can you suggest something for another, and not be doing the same yourself?
A certain man I am working with is trying his best, and it hasn’t been a cakewalk.
But I stick with him, because I have faith in him. My personal motto is “You Don’t Turn your back on your friends, ever…”
Others do not share my vision. Having ongoing conversations with some of my friends, about what I can do, or what I should do, have been fruitless. Several suggestions were floated to try and get a pay out. But some of my friends, are unwilling to devote time to people, who aren’t in the solution, as they see fit. They either don’t have the time, nor are willing to spend the time necessary to see things through. (Oh, that’s too much work…)
After a heated conversation the other night, I spoke my opinion. That did not go over very well.
You don’t turn your back on your friends, ever …
That is treason to the soul.
Over the past month, my phone has rung less than usual. And I find that odd.
While I was here all summer long, keeping the meetings open and serving my fellows along with a rag tag handful of friends, who were not leaving the city, I did my best.
A second group of people were traveling the world, seeing other places, and working out of province. Now we are all back under the same roof. And everybody is where they are on the journey of life, as we speak.
We celebrated six months of clean and sober time last night, for one of my guys. And I opened the meeting and chaired, because our guy who was supposed to be there, was a no show.
I asked a friend of mine for a topic, and she suggested Step Seven. That was a fruitful discussion when all was said and done. The one word definition of Step Seven is “humility.”
When we need help, most of us, don’t realize we need help until it is too late. Or we think that we just could not ask for help, because we should man up/woman up, and do it ourselves. But that’s what our Higher Powers are for right?
Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
Most of us say we believe, but when push comes to shove, we forget our belief.
God, it seems, in lots of cases, seems to step in right when we need it, as we need it , as long as we need it. And that has been the case for my friends and myself as of late.
Tonight, I headed out for the Sunday Meeting. I was flying solo for set up, and I had only one chore for tonight, to give another of my men his first year medallion and cake. He has not had a drink for 365 days. We are all so proud of him.
Another of my friends, a fellow woman of our group, took a 24 year medallion and cake from her sponsor. It is still amazing to me every day, how much our women change when they get “into the work.” This is the model that I use for my guys. Reading the Book, doing steps, calling, tenth steps and honest hard work, really does pay off in the long run.
Many are at the stage in sobriety that they are “willing to go to any length to get sober.”
We hear that line read, every time we hear How It Works.”That if you want what we have and are willing to go to any length to get it, THEN you are READY to take certain steps.”
It took me almost twelve years in the rooms to understand quite succinctly, what that line really means. Because it happened to me. And it has happened to many others as well.
And so, with a little courage, and faith, we work with newcomers and each other. And we invite them to participate. The odds are against us/them. But there are those few who are ready to step up, because stepping back, would mean much more suffering.
The other line that means the world to me comes from A Vision for You …
“Obviously, you cannot transmit something you haven’t got.”
Wow, is that line packed with meaning. For how many years, did I have to trudge this road, to figure out succinctly, what that meant as well?
I had to practice the work and do it myself, and see the results come. Along the way, I was working with a sponsor who cares about me and is always there, work my own steps, go to meetings, hit retreats, and hone my message, and find that voice that suited me.
And voila … God did for me what I could not do for myself. And the men and women who were put in my path, came for a specific reason.
It has become seriously obvious that some of my friends, in the rooms, are sober, (or not so sober) at the moment,(read: Dry) are sick individuals. My sponsor warns me to steer clear of them, and do not react, and not to say a word.
He did tell me to pray for them for 21 days.
I just cannot understand how friends can turn on each other at the drop of a dime.
I watch them act around each other and myself. I listen to the words that come out of their mouths. This is where my sponsor warns me to be vigilant with my words, thoughts and actions, and to pray. The words are incongruous, and I don’t understand detestable language or action.
Friends don’t turn on each other, friends don’t disrespect each other, and once again I repeat, friends don’t turn their backs on their friends.
Sadly this is going on right in front of us at the moment.
I learned a while back, that people may be in the rooms, and have time, but not be very sober.
We have been seeing this thought play out in open community.
Steps Six and Seven take time to present themselves, at least that is how it happened for me.
The diligence of time, and the grace of God and not drinking, has its perks.
It was a good night, capped off with laughter and lots of cake.
In a few weeks time, I hit the 14 year mark.
One day at a time. And by the Grace of God.
More to come, stay tuned …
The last time I saw the baby, I got sick. That was more than three weeks ago. I thought that it would just be a cold or quite possibly a short lived flu… Wrong !!!
My cold just got worse. And added to that I was taking a new pill, and I could not differentiate whether it was the pill making me sick, or something else. When that question arises, in any situation, one should roll the clock back to the point where everything was well and good. And if you can pin point what it was, at that point that changed, one figures out what to do.
I stopped taking the pill, until I could prove otherwise, that IT wasn’t making me sick. All the while, I am spending way too much money on over the counter medication, cough syrup and other cold ending drugs. I had a problem. The simple shit wasn’t doing the trick.
Being immuno-compromised, you must always fear a bug getting worse. Your T- Cells, aren’t always going to work their magic. Sometimes shit gets past the sensors.
I had a laundry list for my doctor, whom I called first thing when I rolled out of bed.
My doctor is not in his office everyday of the week. So it was a shot in the dark to call and actually get his receptionist on the other end.
I am pumped up on over the counter shit, if I sleep on my right side, I wheeze and cough. If I sleep on my left side, I am clear to go. “problem!!!”
I had things to do and places to go, and there was nobody to do my sober chores for me. I got ready to go, and headed for the Metro. I had to make a trip all the way to the East end, to the inter-group office to pick up chips for my guys. UGH !!!
I had a call into my doctor by that point. He had not called back, so I called him again, before I got on the train, I needed to see him, today, if it was possible. I got the green light, to see him, so I ran my errands, because he was not expecting me until around 4.
I was headed way east, I hit my destination with plenty of time. Then I had to decide what to do next. I was on the far side of the grid which lends the ability to take the green line back into the grid and make a transfer to the line that will take me to the line I needed.
There are four lines … Green, Orange, Yellow and Blue.
Quick Metro lesson …
One the left you see Atwater on the green line. I live near that station. I traveled to Pie IX station on the far side East on the Green line. On the way back, I changed stations at Berri (see big yellow box) on the right hand side. This is one connection point between the two solitude’s, the green line and the orange line.
I needed to make my way to the Blue line, which is a trek up the Orange line to Jean Talon station, upper right hand section of the grid. I made my transit towards that doctors office, Which is on the Blue Line at Acadie.
Because to come all the way home, to go all the way back out was pointless.
I had confidence I would get in today, so I packed a book in my bag.
When I got to the doctors office, it was 2 o’clock. Doc told me not to show up before 4.
As is always, I always wait, I am always the last patient, sometimes that is a good thing, because I get ALL the time that I need.
I dressed in my most flashy, long sleeve Sunflower (read:Yellow), shirt.
I get to the doctors office, I walk upstairs, and the office is packed to the rafters, all the chairs were taken and there were men standing up waiting on their wives. In our Greek community, you never travel alone. People travel in packs.
Today I noticed a trend …
As I walked upstairs into the office, it was as if I was walking into a funeral home, being the brightest flower amid a sea of black. Everybody was dressed in black, the men included.
I felt like Luna Lovegood at the Weasley wedding… (10 points if you get that reference).
I had a book, I had a Pepsi, and I had M&M’s … I was good to go.
A few minutes later, I even got a chair to sit in.
I had wanted to ask that question … But it slipped my mind.
I saw my doc. He said I had a little right side pneumonia going on, and maybe a little Bronchitis while we were at it. He gave me some serious Nuclear Fusion antibiotics to take, and sent me on my way.
I left the house at 12:30 in the afternoon. I got home, at was six o’clock.
On the way OUT, I get to the mall, heading for the Metro, and I look up and god dammit, as I live and breathe, there are CHRISTMAS decorations hanging from the ceiling. On the way home, I walk home from that same mall, and wouldn’t you know it, The city has put up the damned flashy light Christmas decorations on the street poles.
Today is November 5th …
Isn’t there something that goes a bit like this:
“Remember, Remember the 5th of November.”
Yeah I will remember it because those damned Christmas decorations are up already !
A long day was had by all.
I completed an entire circuit of the Metro. Feeling strong, I popped a pill and waited for the evening event. The Thursday night meeting. It was time to get back on the hobby horse and give hubby a break, that break being me in the house all the time.
I saw some friends that crossed my path over the weekend, last. There was conversation.
Before I knew it, it was 2 minutes to eight.
I ran back inside, thankfully we had our seats saved with jackets.
Our woman spoke. As she was introduced, she got to the table, and rearranged herself a bit, looked up at us, she took a deep breath, as tears swam in her eyes, and she said the following:
“My husband just walked in the doors!”
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house after that.
In the end we celebrated five and twenty eight years, respectively.
Five years is a good chunk of time, when you get there.
You come in, and you make your months, then your year, and get that medallion. If you stay sober, you get a silver oval chip at two years, that is a milestone for us, because that silver oval two year chip, gets dipped in gold and you get it again at ten years.
The next stop on the time line is Five years. It is the first marker of serious time.
Then you hit Ten years, Fifteen, Twenty, and multiples thereafter.
Last week we celebrated over sixty years in the same room. And tonight, one of the sponsors, thought out loud, to the rest of us … “Who was here sixty years ago?” Our woman has been in that room for more than twenty herself.
We hopped a bus right away, on the way home.
As I crossed Ste Catherine’s Street towards my building, I got into the slip stream of several people, walking in the same direction I was, walking towards my building. Everybody was walking at their speeds, some making ways for others, and some passing others, left or right, giving them wide berths as not to interrupt their gait…
I pulled up, behind a young woman in white “come fuck me pumps…”
She was headed for my building.
Now it either goes like this, One, you have the key to the door, Two, they have a key to the door, or Three, They are going to wait until you let them in the door while they pay not one ounce of attention to you while in the vestibule.
She was aloof and sucking very hard on some kind of Starbucks frothy drink.
She did not, in any way, notice who I was, nor that I had opened the door. She just floated in the door, unaware, while she was sucking on her drink.
We got in the elevator, and she got off a few floors up. Once again, not even a look !
Yes, dear girl in the “Come fuck me pumps” I opened the door for you, and you didn’t even acknowledge I was even there…
God give me strength…
Last night, we all “Fell Back.” We were headed to bed early again, so that I could get some sleep, I turned all the clocks back and we went to bed.
When I woke up, it was light outside. But the skies were dark and foreboding. Clouds were speeding across the sky, rain was falling, thunder was rolling and lightening was streaking across the sky. It came so fast and furiously. It was a “carry” night.
I have spent the better parts of days and nights resting my body so that I can do what must be done, because for several meetings, I am the sole key holder. I departed for the church at 4:30 and met up with a friend in Westmount Square, and we walked together to the church.
When we entered the church, it was still light outside. And it was raining.
We took our time cranking out set up, because I am not back to 100% myself yet. I just don’t know when this cough is going to let up. It does not seem to want to go, no matter what I throw at it, medicinally.
An hour later, I went outside and darkness had fallen. It was not even six yet, on the clock, but the quality of the darkness made it feel like ten p.m. It felt like it had been dark for hours and hours, and the evening meeting, was taking place in the middle of the night, so it seemed.
And it is only going to get worse, darkness falling during the afternoon rush hour.
A couple of years ago, (the second week of November) it got dark, then it got cold, and then 60 cm of snow fell and the city went into lock down, having not been prepared for that kind of snow so early in the season.
On the way home one of my friends reminded us of this fact.
The 14 day outlook says this weekend we drop from double digit highs, to single digit highs (7’s,8’s,and 9’s) for the following ten days with lows in the (1’s.2’s and 3’s). We will see some rain, but as of tonight, thankfully, no snow …
We sat a packed house. We read all the way around and did not quite get back around for everyone to share.
The short version of tonight’s read …
I drank – I drank more – I blacked out – and could not find my car.
For some, the drink begins tamely, it is enjoyable, for awhile, until …
Then there are others, who begin to drink, and we enjoy that drink so much, that all we want is MORE, until the alcohol stops working for us…
I was warned about drinking and driving early on. I listened to that advice. And in the end, I can safely say, that “I never got caught.”
At one point, I got rid of my car. Which was a good thing.
In tonight’s story, our man is young, goes to fight in the Great War. And the story does tell us that he is Canadian. Canadians, know how to drink, drink well and drink hard.
He mentions that he gets on the wrong train, and ends up somewhere else. On several occasions, he mentions, parking his car in one place, drinking hard, and returns only to find that his car, is not where he had originally parked it.
Our folks tonight, spoke about getting on planes, trains and automobiles, drunk, not knowing where they were to end up, or how they got on planes as drunk as they were.
My experience with drinking and driving, drunk and high were not fun. Watching someone wreck a car (drunk and high), and survive that wreck, only to be airlifted to a hospital a hundred miles away, not knowing if they were going to live or die, was something I lived through.
You can only temp fate so many times, until you get the backlash.
The last year of my drinking was hit and miss. Periods of self imposed sobriety because I could not do the job I had drunk. 2001 was the cathartic year for millions of people. When entire populations of people suffer P.T.S.D. by extension, the drink comes in very handy.
I lived through that, drinking hard, then having the experience, of crash and burn, sobriety, then months of drinking as hard as we could. But that was not sustainable. Not in the long run.
My drinking went from a hopeful magical transformation into a beach buff god, to one of drinking hard, one night a week, ending up in a blackout, and not knowing who took me out of the club, how I got into a taxi, how I got home, and through two key locked doors, several times, before I finally put down the drink.
The end was coming, I could not answer my own questions about the who, what and where.
So I quit. I prayed. and God answered me swiftly.
That human contact, I craved so badly from people I was drinking to impress, turned out to be the wrong people I did not need in my life. In the rooms, I found that human connection that was right and correct. And those people, in that specific 10 p.m. SOBE meeting saved my life.
In the end our man figured out that he had a problem, when things began to happen that did not add up. Getting on the wrong trains, loosing his car, the continual blackouts that did not get better, only worse.
He found, in the rooms, as is told by everyone in those rooms, that we come and we find that which we have longed for for so long, that we thought we had to drink to find, are relieved to learn that we never have to drink again and that the rooms provide everything that we need.
The opposite of addiction is not sobriety, but Connection.
It is in the connection we make with others, that we find salvation.
It was a good night. More to come, stay tuned…