Am I the only one that stops picking my nose when oncoming
traffic approaches, regardless of the time of day? I’m positive I can’t see
what other drivers are doing, and I assume that they are also excavating, but
nonetheless, I stop burrowing and pretend I’m focused on driving until traffic
ceases. Also, I’m a skeptic on people’s motives on driving behind me when I’m
performing the same essential function, so I either speed up, or I slow down
enough to let them pass me by.
Also, WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL OF MY SOCKS!? How did I have so
many just a month ago, and now I can’t even get through the work week unless I
double-dip on foot fashions. Who the hell is taking them? I remember Amanda
asking me in the trial last week about what I had sacrificed in my pursuit of a
life with the girls. My real answer should have been socks; just my socks, my
lucidity, peace of mind, money, tranquility, and silence. But I said something
all loving and emotional. I fucked up.
This post got off to an odd start. I’m currently in my house
with five screaming children, running and jumping, and otherwise being
children. Just a few days ago we had even more kids in the house for Ella’s
birthday, and five or five-hundred of them slept over. My mind is scattered,
but I had a few thoughts I wanted to jot down. Remember, I write this for me,
not for you. J
There are a lot of good things happening in my life that I
just can’t quite write about yet. There are a few negative things, too, but I
will process that somewhere else.
I started that post a week ago, and I haven’t had a chance
to get back to it yet until just now. A lot happens in a week, and I am happy
to say I can write about the good things I alluded to in that last paragraph
from last week.
I received a promotion at work this week that becomes
official on April 1st. My hope is that this is not an intricate
April fool’s joke, and that this is not an over-the-top way to fire me. I don’t
think it’s that.
They say, when one
door closes, another opens up. When I was denied the post office job, I
figured I would just go back to normal, and wait for the next opportunity.
Little did I know this would happen so quickly. I’m not going to go into
details because others had to suffer to open up this door for me, but there are
a lot of changes happening at my work, and I am happy to be part of it all. I
think my official title is King Sous Chef Extraordinaire. It also might be A.M.
Lafayette Room Sous Chef. I like both.
I have fresh responsibilities, different challenges, and new
opportunities. I've been working on the line for nearly two years, and finally I get to step away and be
more helpful to the clutch. I won’t miss it per se, and I will probably enjoy
the times when I get to step back into the fire for a day or week when people
go on vacation, but I will spend most of my time behind the line, creating,
butchering, preparing, and otherwise orchestrating the daily functions of a
professional restaurant kitchen.
This is just another example of what can happen with
long-term sobriety. I have never been promoted to anything in my drunken or
methed-out self. Nobody gave me more responsibility, or thought of me for it.
My bosses knew—and wisely so—that I was an incapable human, and passed over me
for those of sound mind. I was a wreck, but now I’m better. Now I’m useful, not
just to me, but to others.
To those out there that are in limbo: you haven’t hit
bottom. Anytime that phrase is thrown around, it sickens me. It’s cliché. You
haven’t hit bottom. Every time you think you have; understand, there’s a
basement. That basement has a dirt floor and you can keep digging. It will
always get worse until you get better, or until you die. You will lose everything, over and over. You will lose more than money or things, you will lose yourself. I haven’t hit bottom
yet and I don’t want to. This is why I keep trying to help others by showing
them I have found a way out of the pain and madness. I found a solution, and
you can have it. You can live without agony, anger, selfishness, and fear. You
can build yourself up again, and get back everything you ever had and more—and you
can be part of your family again. You just have to be honest. Forever. You can be a good friend, son, and grandson. You
can be a good father again. I have faith in you. Don’t let yourself down. They
are counting on you.
I hit rock bottom, but thank God my bottom wasn't death.
