It’s 5AM and I hear the patter of feet upstairs as I write this. Tony is awake too. He probably heard the Windows XP start-up jingle as my laptop booted up. A new day has begun. ”Whoosh,” there goes the flush of the toilet. He’s probably on his way to the kitchen table now to fill the water glasses or open the blinds in the living room. I work in a group home. It’s predictable but never boring.
It’s very still in the house. It must have been cool overnight because I barely heard the AC shut on. I love it… this time of day. I have no expectations to speak of. I believe anything is possible.
The past few weeks have been absolutely amazing. I am present in my life. I show up for my commitments. I keep my word. I slow down. I breathe.
My Mom emailed me on Monday, “I see you haven’t been writing. Wondering if you are okay.” She and I have an understanding that if I’m not writing, I might be in trouble. I realize I haven’t given an update lately. And I try to stay out of trouble with my Mom. So here I am.
I am currently in rehearsal for Meth for Dummies*, a one-man-show based upon an autobiographical short story by Poe Ballantine. The script is the most accurate and visceral account of meth use that I have ever read. The show is being produced by Bob W. and directed by Harry W., both men in recovery.
Because the play is so “close to home” for me, some rehearsals have been difficult. I have had thoughts of using. I have wanted to run, scream, grieve, cower, preach, isolate and every other imaginable reaction. Spoken like someone with Bi-Polar Disorder, right? It’s okay to agree. I know you still love me.
The play has reminded me of my former friends and acquaintances–and the hell they must be going through. I AM SO ANGRY AT THIS DISEASE. I never ever want to go back to that misery, that dark place, that hopelessness, that abyss of destruction, that terror, that ‘graveyard waltz’, as Poe Ballantine so aptly puts it.
So, I talk to my sponsor. I go to meetings. I talk to my therapist. I pray. And suddenly for the past few days, these waves of gratitude wash over me. They are overwhelming. I cry. It’s a miracle that I am sober. It is grace . . . sweet grace. And it’s brand-new every day. Thank you God.
*Meth for Dummies will be performed at MinneSober 2009. Click here for more information.
Hey John… being present means a lot doesn’t it? Thank God for His Grace and for every day. Keep taking it day by day….sometimes I have to take it minute by minute but His grace IS sufficient. Much love….
Renee
Yes it does. I mean, being present is everything I think. Hey, I will be home for my birthday. I hope I will get to see you. I will email you on Facebook with details.
I love you.
John
I would love to see you! Please let me know the details and I’ll work it out. I love you too!
Hang in there kid. Hope this all builds you into the artist I know you are without the handicap of drugs or alcohol.