Dear friends and family,
My therapist and medical doctor here at Pride Institute has suggested that I not blog for a while (until my discharge date of 12/8/2007). She believes that the blog could be counter-therapeutic for my recovery at a time that I really need to focus on just being in the present rather than recording things and telling my story. There will be plenty of time for blogging after this week and 2 days have passed. Until then, I will be signing off on posting anything or responding to comments.
If you wish to contact me you can call and leave a short voice mail message at (952) 934-4566 and I will return your call. Mail sent after Monday (12/3/2007) of next week will probably not reach me before my discharge date.
Following my discharge, I will be going to Progress Valley (still to be confirmed but pretty certain), a halfway house in Minneapolis. I will update the site with contact information for there in a few days.
Thank all of you for your continued support, prayers and thoughts. I love you all!
John Ronald Pigate
Bill,
Thank you so much! Wow, what a powerful entry –I will enjoy reading and re-reading that and pondering its’ meaning for my life.
Ever since I began opening up about my guilt and shame I have been more understanding of my parent’s choices and ‘mistakes’ of the past. I guess I see how shame and guilt put upon them by their parents, society and their own expectations, weighed them down as well. But they lived in a time where, for example, there was not a lot discussed about internal struggles. People had to get up and go to work and work hard. They had little time or energy for dealing with the questions and pondering the questions of life–at least in my family in the South during the 40’s-60’s suggests.
Our world consciousness today which has been raised by mass media and the distribution of it has made more and more information available to us. I truly stand on the shoulders of my grandparents and parents in my own personal and spiritual development. Because they did what they did and provided for me, I can learn, progress and grow today.
I am grateful that I now have the wherewithal to realize this and also understand that this history is a gift. And this gift was hard-won–with blood, sweat and many tears.
I am so fortunate to be alive and have the opportunities I have been given. Yes, there have been great challenges, disappointments and a tremendous amount of pain but God works in mysterious ways and nothing can stop the indomitable power of Faith. Nothing. My grandmother taught me that. She taught me that people are the most important thing in the world and that your family is irreplaceable, immensely precious and your spiritual legacy.
I hope that I can emulate my grandmother in some way through my life–she is and was the most unconditionally loving person I have ever known. I am just thankful she kept praying for me. I believe that, although she may not be able to articulate it now because she is not as clear as she used to be, she knew all along that I am gay. And she has always accepted me exactly as I am.
Feeling extremely grateful today. Thank you for your post Bill. It touched me in a very special place.
John
John,
Thanks for stopping by my blog.
I can relate to your expression in recent posts about your anger issues — all that became bottled up inside you from growing up gay in a small southern town. I grew up gay in a northern city (Buffalo, NY) in the ’50s so I swallowed a lot of anger too, in a different way. I’m a bit different internally as well, since I never direct it outward but always against myself. If I can’t stand the world outside, I mess my life up enough so I can convince myself I’m a bad person and deserve my situation. This is, of course, distinctly unhealthy. I mention it because I think it might help you to know that there are others who share your anger issues, and also that your particular way of handling them is only one among many — not necessarily either especially healthy or especially unhealthy. Perhaps, more just a practical problem.
When I do get angry with someone else, I just walk away. Friends complain I’m like the Bermuda Triangle — unreachable and mysterious — impossibly evasive.
This has less drama than your blowing up, but it’s not better as a solution. We all have to cope with being who we are. In some ways it’s a curse, but it’s usually also — in different ways — the source of whatever positive it is that we have to offer other people.
You also discuss your alcoholism, a problem I don’t happen to share. I am however familiar with it. My father was an alcoholic. Perhaps I can say a few words to you that would reinforce how much someone alcoholic could mean to those around him, how much he could deserve love and get it.
My father died of alcoholism (of the resultant atherosclerosis) when he was 58 and I was 13. While he was alive I was too young to be able to figure out how I felt about him. He tried hard to stay sober, and when he was he was my hero: intelligent and wise, elegant and well-mannered. When on a binge, he was never abusive or anything, but the classy man I idolized would become a falling-down, stumbling drunk. I knew I loved him dearly, but I didn’t know then what to make of him. Unfortunately, the year he died was also the year I was going through puberty and learning that my sexuality was a terrible secret I needed to hide. So, that year (1958) was a terrible one for me.
Now I’m 4 years older than he was when he died and I have the experiences, as a father and now as a grandfather, to understand perfectly. I can see clearly how much he loved me and how much he went through for my sake. I don’t care that he was alcoholic — all I care about is that the father I loved loved me.
I myself have never had any tendency to alcoholism; it apparently must not be inherited directly. I’m not especially proud of this: it’s no achievement. It’s easy enough to avoid a temptation that you don’t have. But, now that I understand how much my father struggled with it, I know how hard a thing it must be to struggle against if you’re one of those it afflicts. Anyone who has it has my sincere empathy and respect.
When I think of the loneliness my father suffered in the responsibility that he took on for me, I wish desperately that I had a time machine so I could go back and tell him belatedly how grateful I am — and that his love for me wasn’t at all in vain.
I hope that saying this may help you realize that alcoholics have their place in the world as much as anyone else. They can have people who need them and love them. We are who we are.
Best wishes,
Bill
Hey Josh,
Yea… I get what you’re saying… And I agree… I am just taking a more relaxed approach to the whole thing… and maybe I’m addicted to blogging already and can’t quit!! Not a bad thing to be addicted to. I think what my psychiatrist is saying is that sometimes the time could probably be better spent interacting with people here rather than blogging. I see both sides of it, particularly because of the amount of programming time we have here at the ‘hab.
Till next time,
John
Thanks Shari for visiting the site…
Take care and God bless,
John
Hi John,
Thank you for your kind comment. I wish you well on your journey.
Love and Peace,
Shari
Hi,
you’ll be in my thoughts until your next post, which I will be looking forward to reading. I have to say that I found a regular blog one of the few saving graces in my life during early sobriety, but this is ultimately your decision and that should be respected. Take care,
Josh
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.