January 16-22, 2006
Here ‘tis Monday and I’m putting off the shots I need to do. Already 1 in the afternoon, and I should just get up and go into the house and do my duty. Even the small amount of pain has become a minor dread. It is nothing, really, and my loathing of this exercise ridiculous, but all the same, it is almost like being forced to eat your peas at the dinner table. I need to take the meds out of the refrigerator, and let the two items reach room temperature. That at least begins the process, it’s a commitment.
Done, mission completed. I don’t like having to take the time, which is all of about 10 minutes when two injections are required. I hope to hear from Bartley’s office this week that my lab results are back.
Many thanks go out to a couple of people who wrote supportive comments on the blog. Nice to get some feedback and know people care.
The Lords left for Spain today. They are out for 6 weeks. I will join them for the last leg of the tour in Scandinavia - probably not as cold as Detroit in February.
I was thinking about some alcohol related issues that I want to share. When I think back to the very first time I got drunk, or let’s say tried drinking, it took place in a parked vehicle with a couple of my friends. I think we were about 16 at the time. We scored a couple six packs of Pabst Blue Ribbon by way of an older acquaintance and drove to a side street to guzzle them down. Guzzle them down we did, like it was the forbidden wonder of the world. Within minutes, perhaps seconds, a fuzz came down over me that put me out of control of myself. It was like being spun around 6 times and released in a void. It was like being sicker than I had ever been before. I was dizzy. Yet I was compelled to be a part of this ritual for reasons I wasn’t aware of. I was attracted to drinking it seemed from then on, although the first experience of it was totally unpleasant. Throughout my school years, drinking took on a priority for any social activity. The “party” was a drinkers ball. People would talk about which booze was the “good stuff”. Scotch, bourbon, vodka, etc. soon acquired traits that identified the profiles of people that drank them. A Scotch drinker was, on one hand, a person of heritage and wealth. A bourbon drinker was slightly bent, cynical, and tough. Vodka drinkers brought up the rear as serious drinkers, lushes. Beer drinkers, the hardy lager and ale men established the salt of the earth, and so on. Characters, both real and ficticious, brought glorious auras to the habit. In short, the whole imagery of drinking, either as a social attachment, merrymaking, or pseudo anti-depressant, is rife with illusion and delusion. Yet we are compelled to adore this habit as though it were a religious ritual. What is a football game without almighty beer? What is New Years Eve without the holy champagne? I can tell you. It’s just what it is. It’s New Years Eve, and it’s a football game, that is all. The accompaniment of drink is just that. It’s just drinking with an excuse. It puts us right back to where we started, in the parked car, making ourselves uncomfortable. This is what I think is going on. It is peer pressure. Even when I drank alone I was maintaining my self-image, as if I were yoked and driven by a mad sod-buster. The futility of it all! Many times I tried to shake the cycle, always to fail when faced with a situation that brought me to having to choose. I would get my supplies, get my high, and be as miserable, if not more so than I had been previously. Then I would/could pass out. Of course, I should mention that there are people in this world who can take a drink intelligently and move along in their life without undue effects. I would that that were me. However, it may be true that I am better to avoid it altogether. The point is; it doesn’t matter, unless, of course, it matters. Then it is a problem. The hard part, as a friend recently pointed out to me, was they found it impossible to quit when it was going on all around them. I do understand. Actually, the motivational forces that drive us to drink are the same as any substance abuse. The pattern of addiction is the same pattern whether it’s about alcohol, heroin, cocaine, pills, coffee, cigarettes, you name it. It doesn’t necessarily have to be about substances either. So, if you're going to get strung out, get strung out on something that’s good for you, but remember, satisfaction is obtained in moderation. “All you need is love, love, love,..love is all you need”.