Which I never would have written without support and encouragement.
It’s nearly 11 PM on It’s snowing quite fiercely outside. I am all up in my head with my critics…who are all me, often doing impressions of other people…It’s the whole thing, man, the whole neuroses that likes to show up at the end of the day. I already wrote about that, but it’s rather fierce this evening.
This is actually the 800th post of this blog, that I took to writing a few years ago, somehow, I never stopped for too long. That’s very abnormal for me, to do something and keep doing it.
I've been listening to a chapter of the AA big book every night, at the direction of my new sponsor. It talks about all of this “selfish, self centered fear” and the actor’s desire to control the whole show (pg.86)…..
I’m just like:
“FUCK! I AM ALL OF THOSE THINGS, ALL OF THE TIME” — My Thoughts
How can I even type on and on about myself? Is that not a self centered pursuit, does my ego really need to do that?
800 TIMES!
I need to say, and I don’t want to be specific about too much: there are folks that tell me to keep going. There is one in particular, whom I met when I was a newly sober busboy in a breakfast joint back in Asbury Park, New Jersy about 10 years ago. Let me tell you: I was probably not the busboy that I had been when I was 18, when I was 28…very slow.
I can scroll back to the early posts, when I would describe what I called the “well wishing life cheerleaders” whom I should listen more intently to instead of the committee in my head that tells me i’m rubbish. I often was talking about her. Although I hadn’t seen her in many years, she would just send me really encouraging messages.
I really cant get into specifics right now, because it’s so raw, and out of respect for other’s grieving process . It’s another case of cool punk rock kids, who got all married and had kids and I would see it on the social media. I found it uplifting, whereas I can sometimes see the whole “living the American dream of the nuclear family” thing as irritating. Because, if we’re to be perfectly honest (why wouldn’t we be) i’m probably jealous. I’m also kind of a cynical asshole (See: Denis Leary). Some people are just cool about it, though… and dammit, I love to see it.
Anyway, I opened Instagram yesterday (even though i’m trying not to, I swear). The first thing I see is that she lost the person closest to her, who I didn’t know as well as her, but always enjoyed kicking it when they’d visit me at GameStop during my tenure.
I cried that morning and I am now.
I have no idea what to say, or do.
I can’t even wrap my head around it.
I just know that I can’t sleep, and there’s no way that there would be 800 posts without my friend from Jersey telling me that there was something in what I was doing here that was worth a damn to someone. There probably wouldn’t have been 100, or even 50.
The other thing, in these AA chapters that i’m always hearing: prayer, to establish a relationship with a power greater than myself.
Obviously, this is not something that’s like “hey ok, I pray now. so, i’m tight with God, bro.” I needed to start writing them in my little journal.
tonight I’m writing one for my friend and one of the most vocal supporters of all of my writing, and whatever other noise i make. I don’t know what to do, or say, or write. I just want her to be able to make it through this.
It connects in some ways to the way I felt when I wrote this (at a complete loss of how to help). Strangely enough I was a busboy for someone whom I wrote this about.
