I Never Saw Perspective Like That…And A Big Thank You


court

Yesterday was my day in court.  Or to be more accurate, one of my days – I count it my 8th or 9th day in court.  My sentence was at hand, as many of you know.  Just yet another day at the office.  And in doing so, it was time for me to pull out the monkey suit once again – a suit that will be burned to polyester-choked ashes very soon.  A suit that has seen more court dates than dates with my wife.  A suit that has bore witness to more vows on the stand than vows at the front of a church. So yes, time to call a witch and witch and give it the old Joan of Arc treatment.

I have always gone to court alone.  No one deserves to be dragged to the potential bedbug-harvesting laden wooden benches to hear my sad tale over and over again in excruciating detail.  Except me, of course. But even I am tired of my story, even as the lead role.  But for this occasion, I was asked to bring folks along.  Not exactly a tea party, but close considering I’ve been sitting in hot water since my drinking and driving incident over 2 1/2 years ago.  So with me yesterday was my wife, her brother, my parents, and a dear family friend.  I also had invited my sponsor to be there, who said he would be there. But when the proceedings started, he wasn’t anywhere to be found.  My phone had no texts or phone messages waiting for me either.

Now, I love my sponsor.  He has helped me in more ways that I can describe.  He has been through a lot in his life, and looking at him and I, on the surface, you couldn’t imagine two guys like us meeting ever, let alone having the deep relationship that we do.  I will probably dedicate a post just on him one day, but in the meantime, take my word that this is a man that I would trust my very life to.  And yet, I still don’t know his last name (it’s just never come up – maybe one day I will ask). We don’t speak a whole lot these days – not like when I was new and raw and seeping with emotional and mental sores. But when we do, it’s right to the heart of the matter, which is usually that – matters of the heart. He has always been reliable, and he has never not been where he said he would be. So I was a bit worried.

We are never alone, especially when parachuting into the abyss of our addiction.

My family and friends sat behind me as the court opened up and the judge appeared.  The Crown made it’s submissions – a veritable Best-Of-Hits of my miserable story – the high readings, the fact my son was in the car, the secrecy of my alcoholism, etc.  He did mention that he had read this blog in his research and was quite impressed by the overall work I have done in these few years.  Still, it was hard not to hear the muted sniffling and blowing of noses from behind me, especially when it came to talk of my son that day.

Then it was break time, and my sponsor still wasn’t there.  I thought of him and hoped he was okay.  But my attention was on what my lawyer was telling me about the tactics he was going to use after the break. My family and friends were a bit shell-shocked by the whole judicial process, this being pretty much the first time at a court of any kind – so the break served them well.  I, on the other hand, was used to the sights, sounds and smells of the courts, and was very used to hearing my tale of woe broken down into minute pieces to be picked apart.  Especially the ugly stuff.  Which is much of it, like breadcrumbs in a high school meatloaf.  It was difficult at times to not break my somewhat phlegmatic façade while they outlined some of the evidence.  I said my Serenity Prayers and other things to settle the unsettling times.  I looked at the judge, as my lawyer advised me on day one.  And she looked back – often – in that non-judgemental judgey way.

My happy place.

My lawyer brought up the letters.  Yes – those letters that so many of you were so kind and generous to offer. (More on that later). And all the other positives that have happened in my recovery time.  It was a tonic to the Crown’s position, and then I was asked if I wanted to speak on my behalf.  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do it – I was a bit frightened to speak with some strangers in the room (it’s an open court), but my life had been dissected quite publicly already, so it wasn’t a big deal. I read something that I had prepared, then sat down. (On a side note – I really have been a bit more public about this – I was moved to mention this on a recent thing I did here)

And the decision at the end, after all this hand wringing, submissions and case study comparisons?

That will now have to wait another month.

I know.

The judge felt that she needed a bit more time to weigh everything.  Jail time is still on the table – weekends only, but still there.  Probation is almost a given on this one, as is a hefty fine and some prohibition from driving.  Jail time is the fly in the ointment at this point…for me, that is.  And so it continues.

Now after about a minute or two after saying my piece, and after the judge left the court room, I turned around and then I saw him – my sponsor – standing in the aisle.  A hulking man, he opened his massive hand and shook mine.  We went outside where he gave my mother a hug and greeted the others.  Before departing, my lawyer spoke to us all, telling us that he  wasn’t used to seeing such support like the support I had – in court and out of court.  He told us that he’s seen a great number of heartbreaking stories in his time – like teen kids coming to his office with no one to accompany them.  People on their own – fighting the fight to stay alive, trying to beat the demons that crack at their skulls and hearts, with no one in their corner. Alone. And as we know, we don’t do this on our own.  We need others like us, to show us the way, the light the lanterns along the path, to guide, to lend an ear or shoulder, to just say “yeah – I’ve been there”.  Like my sponsor did with me, and still does.  And how we all out here in the sobersphere get to do for one another.

man in prison

After everyone left, my sponsor and I sat down.  He apologized for being late.  He said that he got word the other day that his cousin, a man his age and an alcoholic, had committed suicide.  The man left behind a teenage daughter and distraught wife. So my sponsor had to go and be with his family.  He also updated me about the once special woman in his life, a woman he had made plans to spend his life with, who had gone back out into drugs recently and had to distance himself from her.  His eyes welled up as he told me all of this, and I put my hand on his knee to let him know I was there for him.  My turn to help him, to comfort him for that moment.  The way he had done so many times for me. Two people, connected by one common problem and a common solution.

So the idea of perspective hit home at that very moment, as we spoke in hushed tones outside the very doors of my trial room.  The problems I had, or thought that I had, started to dissolve.  Not that there wasn’t business to attend to later on, but at that moment, it wasn’t about me, it wasn’t about where my head was at, it wasn’t about the punishment to be meted out at another time.  It was that I had the privilege, the blessing, the ability to be present.  Alive.  To still have a loving family, surrounded by beautiful friends and well-wishers, to be of service to others, to stretch and grow, to breathe fresh air, to go home to a crazy dachshund under warm sheets and wake up to a job that I enjoy.  I am here.  I am with you guys.  I am with those near me.  I am in my mind, an old brain working with new ideas and concepts. I am in my spirit, unencumbered by the weight of shame, guilt and remorse.  I am in my heart, trying harder to open it up a little more.  I don’t always succeed with flying colours on these things…but I try.  I get a do-over in life.  My sponsor’s cousin – and all the suffering alcoholics and addicts who die daily – never got that do-over. We get to live two lives in one lifetime…how great is that?

broken-beer-bottle-0424209-lg

So as I left that court, my sponsor and I parting ways, I felt a great relief wash over me.  No, this thing hasn’t been resolved per se, but I felt a great burden come off my shoulders.  I felt something lift off of me.  A sense of peace came over me, if you will.  Another layer peeled.  A sense that I was never abandoned back in the old days.  I was the one who abandoned – the Creator, my family, my own life.  And there is a good feeling of coming home.  And it’s at that spiritual roost that I feel at rest.  That’s what recovery is, to me – the feeling of coming home.  I no longer seek the externals in artificial means.  I still struggle in many things in my life, but I am still home.  The nearer I am to you, my spirit, the Creator, the serenity, the grace bestowed upon me…the quieter I am inside.  And that is all I ever sought in my alcohol use – the make the noise quiet down.

And as for those letters – I can’t thank you enough.  I had over 40 letters of support, and that didn’t go unnoticed by the judge, who read them all.  I know that they made an impact of some kind.  For those who were generous enough to give of their time and effort – I thank you.  For those who wanted to and couldn’t get to it – I thank you too.  For those who sent me well wishes and prayers – I thank you too.  I felt them.  There was a great amount of time yesterday discussing and/or highlighting alcoholism and online support and the difference it can make to those who aren’t part of 12-step recovery groups perhaps, or who live in remote areas, or who travel a lot, or who are still entrenched in the stigma of coming out to those in “real life”. It was a wonderful, and sometimes amusing, thing to hear – these non-alcoholics trying to make sense of it, and advocating for folks like us and recognizing the work that it involves.  Because don’t kid yourself – this is work.

prayer

So for today, sitting in the “after” of it all, I find myself just being.  I have things at work and home to attend to, like everyone else.  I am not thinking of next month.  I am looking at what I need to do now, hoping that I can be of help to someone, trusting in the timeline of the Creator and putting faith in what happens, needs to happen for a reason. Today is today, and for that reason, I am grateful.  I am grateful to my family, my friends, all of you, and my sobriety. I pray for the still struggling alcoholic and addict.

Peace and blessings

Paul

As I got to the subway, these were the media blitz campaign signs that greeted me.  Message received.

As I got to the subway, these were the media blitz campaign signs that greeted me. Message received.

59 responses to “I Never Saw Perspective Like That…And A Big Thank You

  1. Recovery is the feeling of coming home…and for me it’s the home I always wanted and could never quite find until I found recovery. Your perspective is inspiring, Paul. I’m grateful for you too.

    • Thank you Karen – I am so grateful for you and your comments here. Coming home…when I wrote that, I started to tear up. I no doubt heard someone say that once and I probably hung on to it, and released it just now. Coming home. The feeling of finally landing where I am supposed to be. And it’s nice to know that I am in great company there.

      Blessings,
      Paul

  2. Pingback: This second life | ByeByeBeer·

  3. Hope the final outcome is as good as you can get. Fantastic story. One thing just these people seeing this community might bring them to point one more person to it that’ll be a great outcome too.

    • You’re right Graham – hope that one more person can find their way to this community. I never thought of that. And that’s all I ever hope for – that even one person can find recovery, regardless of their path. Hell, get them all in here 🙂

      Thanks for checking in the other day – so very appreciated. I too think that the outcome is going to be as good as it can get. Either way, I am still grateful.

      Blessings,
      Paul

  4. Absolutely beautiful Paul. Thank you for sharing your story. You do help so many and you may not ever know the depth of all you of help. Wishing you and your family a blessed holiday season!

    • Thank you momma bee.

      Glad to be a part of this great thing we have here…all worker bees for the good of the hive 🙂

      Wishing you and your family a wonderful holiday season too, my friend.

      Blessings,
      Paul

  5. I am also grateful. I am grateful for you and this blog that has seen me through some rough patches in my own recovery. You’ve given me perspective on things and for that I am grateful.

    I am grateful that even if the worst happens, the only jail time will be weekends. However we all know that you’ll get probation and that will be it. I know that down to my toes.

    My sympathies to your sponsor. Sounds like he’s going through a rough patch himself and how wonderful that you can now be there for him.

    But good grief! Next time just get to the point! You had me hanging on by my fingernails!!! 😉

    Sherry

    • Feel compelled to say something about you but cannot find the right words. Strength yes. Perceptive. Insightful. Valuable. I want to say I’m proud of you but that sounds odd from someone you don’t know, but I am. I will pray that God gifts you more and more wisdom with less trips to the forge. You are making a difference. Thank you.

      • Thank you, Whistler. I have seen your post and comments in ByeByeBeer’s blog and have always enjoyed what you’ve written. I understand what you say – I have said the same thing to other people I don’t know…ha ha. But there is something that connects us all, and we feel it, don’t we? As I feel what comes from you as so genuine and grounded, as you are.

        Thank you for the comments – I am very honoured to have you here.

        Blessings,
        Paul

    • I’ll trust your toes there, Sherry…lol.

      Sorry for the drawn out drama there…my old fiction writing techniques took over unconsciously…ha ha. But thank you for your support Sherry. You were the first person to leave a comment here on this blog, and I remember being so excited about it! Who knew that I would grow to love and enjoy your company. What a wonderful thing we all have here, yes?

      You’re a big part of my recovery out here, Sherry. So don’t go anywhere!!

      Blessings and hugs,
      Paul

    • We all cross paths for a reason and at the times we need to, don’t we? I am of the thinking that God doesn’t put two people together to just help one. Ipso facto, you are helping me in ways even either of us know. Well, I know…you’re here and it fills me with joy. So thank you.

      Blessings,
      Paul

    • Aren’t do-overs a wonderful thing? Who knew that they even existed in the way they exist for us? I am glad you are in the midst of your renaissance. It looks good on you 🙂

      Blessings,
      Paul

  6. Grateful for you right back… I put your name on my petition to God last week. 🙂 Support is one of the most amazing miracles of recovery, isn’t it? Along with that grace, serenity, and quietness. Really related to that idea. Peace to you, friend.

    • So that’s what that light tap on the shoulder was last week…ha ha. Thank you for that, Laurie. And I am glad you are doing better two. It’s all about the cycles in our life, isn’t it? the push and pull, the stretching the retracting. It’s the duality that brings us into a new balance and strength. And I see that happening in your life right now.

      Thanks for everything.

      Love and light,
      Paul

  7. I am profoundly moved by your words. Truly.

    “The nearer I am to you, my spirit, the Creator, the serenity, the grace bestowed upon me…the quieter I am inside.”

    You are home with the Creator and the judge’s decision ultimately doesn’t matter.

    I’m reminded of the saying for the beginner (such as myself) in the halls of AA, “May You Find God Now.”

    You have found him, Paul. I felt it in your words.

    I don’t read the bible nor attend church. I’ve never sought out a phrase before but your post lead me to search the very term, “May You Find God Now.” Here’s what I read that you have been blessed to feel:

    “We forgive, and cannot forget; but when God forgives sin, he remembers it no more. The power of his word in the kingdoms of providence and grace, is as certain as in that of nature. Sacred truth produces a spiritual change in the mind of men, which neither rain nor snow can make on the earth.” (Matthew Henry Biblical commentator on Isaiah 55.6)

    Fern

    • Ah Fern, what a beautiful response here. I loved it. I have never seen that quote before, but it resonated with me. It reminds me of a man in the rooms who had a hard time with self-forgiveness, until one day he realized God forgave him already, so why can’t he? It was a pivotal moment in that man’s thinking and recovery. And I think we all hit a moment like that. I have seen that in your own journey, Fern. God works through others, and He is working through you here right now for me.

      Thank you for being here and all that you’ve done.

      Blessings,
      Paul

    • Thank you JR – so glad you’re here. I was thinking about you the other day as I was listening to a talk tape. I would be interested in dropping you a line and getting your opinion.

      Thanks for being here. I am always glad to see you, my friend.

      Blessings,
      Paul

  8. Paul,
    I am so grateful to have stumbled onto your blog this past month and a half. Your insight tempered with humility and humor are what keep me coming back. i started my blog because I was scared, wanted privacy, and a place to think without really getting feedback. That hilarious part (I’m such an amateur) is that I am still scared – not every day, but some for sure; my blog is anything but private; and I love the feedback i get when it happens. Funny how God has a hand in what we do when we listen and invite Him in. Your post and your role in this sober sphere is nothing short of inspiring. Your story tugs at my soul and makes me want to cry for your sponsor, put a bug in the judge’s ear, comfort those affected. But, none of this is necessary for you’ve done all of this in your ACTIONS. Keep the faith; it’s working.
    🙂

    • Thank you – it is pretty cool how the hand of the Creator moves us to where we need to be even when we don’t know it’s happening. Or know what is next. Our job is to just be open and available and willing. Not always easy for a guy like me. Fear loves to hold me back. And like you, I had fear too when I started this thing. And then I had fear in commenting on other people’s blogs. Then I had fear when people started reading things here. I even had fear just recently in that interview I linked too because it’s a bit of break of anonymity. But it’s something that has been in my ear for a while, so I know it’s where I need to be. Willingness and moving past fear. Imagine all the things we can do when that happens? wow.

      And you mentioned actions – that’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? Faith without works is dead, as it is oft said. Hopefully I can do more action and less freezing up…ha ha.

      Thank you for the wonderful comments – made my day.

      Love and light

      Paul

  9. Miracles happen. You are one of them! I did not know any of this. I love seeing in your writing your fears being washed away by faith. Faith in your HP, the program, the process, the simplicity of one alcoholic helping another. I am proud to be a partner in recovery another country and miles away and share in this common solution. Thank you for fearlessly sharing about my friend Paul! I myself have said many a time that I was disappointed that when I got sober that life kept happening. I was still left with me and the wreckage of my past. Keep coming back y’all told me, life get’s better. After nearly 6 years of coming back I still beg to differ. Life still happens and sometimes totally sucks. But…. It sucks better SOBER!
    S.O.B.E.R. = Son of a bitch everything’s real. Thanks for being real Paul.
    My love, blessings, thanks and of course HUGS,
    Clairey

    • Hi Clairey – always so happy to see you here, with that boundless energy of yours! Lifts me up. And what you said about life moving on…well, not much choice in that, is there? What choice I do have is in how I react to it. I don’t always act in the way I feel I need to, but in the way I want too…and that rarely end up in serenity. So it’s a learning curve for me. And yeah, it gets better in a way that isn’t on the surface. The way we navigate it gets better, but life itself is something out of our control. But through the lens of love, tolerance and compassion, it certainly shifts.

      Thanks for being here, my friend. Many hugs back to you 🙂

      Paul

      • So true Paul! I really do believe that life still happens and isn’t always better. The difference is… WE GET BETTER!
        Keep on trudging the road to happy destiny!
        Clairey

  10. i really really love this, i’ve been watching for news of your court date, and i’m glad it went as well as it did. you’re such a great example of “put down the drink, get your shit together, move on.” hugs from me, a billion miles away, but still watching and sharing and wishing for the best for you.

    • Thanks Belle. Put the drink down, get your shit together and move on. Damn right! The one thing that we all have in common, those who are able to manage this thing, is action. Action! Nothing changes if nothing changes, as they say. And why would it be any different in this life and death thing? I choose to live! So hey, there has to be some actions behind that choice, right? We all make our choices in this recovery thing, and the more we act, and act in the direction required, the cleaner this becomes. You have certainly taken action and showed others how to do the same. What a gift, to be of service like that, Belle. Keep on shining, my friend. 🙂

      Thanks for the comments – I very much appreciate them 🙂

      Blessings,
      Paul

  11. “My sponsor’s cousin – and all the suffering alcoholics and addicts who die daily – never got that do-over. We get to live two lives in one lifetime…how great is that?”
    Paul – it’s really great. This beautiful piece, brimming with heart, choked me up. I can’t help reading recovery stories such as yours and wonder – what if? about my husband who made the same choice as the cousin.
    You are in a beautiful place and I’m so glad for you.

    • Hi Tricia -I am so sorry to hear about your husband. I never know what to say when it comes to stuff like that. It’s always tragic, and I feel for them because I felt like that at one point – strongly. The what if’s will haunt us, in all regards, big and small. I too think what would have happened to my family if I did the same – but I just have to look around and hear stories like your and others and see the wreckage it causes. I thought that I would just remove my pain, but I was so wrapped up in it, I didn’t see the others…those who would continue to ask – why?And that is what others have a hard time understanding – the self-centeredness that we get so wound up in that we don’t see anything past our own darkened eyes. It’s a horrible place to be, believe me.

      thank you for being here, Tricia, and for you comments – they really brought me to a new place today.

      Blessings,
      Paul

  12. What an amazing post and what a beautiful place you have come to. I am somewhat jealous and pray that I can arrive in having that kind of serenity – appreciating the gifts in life, being used by God, being present…I will def. come back and re-read this post. I will be saying prayers for a good outcome for your court situation. I wondered what had happened ( I had hope to be able to write a letter, but my miscarriage…you know the rest).

    You truly are an inspiration – to those in recovery and those who aren’t (but probably should be for some thing or another).

    Blessings, friend.

    • Thank you Katie. I look to you and others as well in terms of how God uses others, and certainly He speaks through you. I see that in your own story and how you have been dealing with it. That has been inspiring to me, and am glad that you’ve been excited about the holidays.

      No worries about the letter! I had plenty 🙂

      Love and light,
      Paul

    • Thanks WG – I am glad you’re here. I do like that he and I can lean on each other. it’s funny how our relationship has changed, with me and my sponsor. And I know this happens often – that after a while, after I have done the deal and am helping other men, we become more like friends or guys to lean on. He doesn’t direct me in any way, but will just share with me his experience and will lend me his ears and shoulders. And I try to do the same. We are fellow travellers, he will say. how cool is that?

      Thanks for the comments – so great to see you 🙂

      Paul

  13. As my sponsor reminds me, almost on a daily basis, everything will turn out exactly as it is supposed to turn out. I can fret. I can worry. I can lose sleep. That’s my choice. But, God’s got this one.

    I liked what you wrote: “That’s what recovery is, to me – the feeling of coming home.” That’s it exactly! That’s the feeling I had when I walked into the room of AA women for a Christmas party last night after my “day in court” — it was like I had come home to the warmest, most welcoming family I could ever imagine.

    So, Paul, as you so well know, God’s got this one. It will turn out as it turns out.

    • Dorothy! I am so glad you stopped by – a special occasion for me here! I like what your sponsor says and I am down with that. I am pretty good in that I am not really thinking about it, except when I am here talking about it.

      You have had your day in court for sure – and am so happy for your outcome. In the end, it’s not up to me. I can’t change anything, nor can I control the outcome, so I am not ready to shatter serenity for that.

      It’s in His hands. So I will leave it there. He’s done a pretty good job so far 🙂

      Thank you for being here and the comments.

      Paul

  14. Paul! I was moved to the point of tears once again, by your writing, your wonderful writing. I send you love and light from Mexico, dear friend!

    • Oh Erika – so glad to see you here!! I don’t see you very often, so seeing that smiling face is a great thing for me. I can feel that light from here, my friend. Thank you for all that you’ve done. I am very much in your debt 🙂

      Blessings,
      Paul

  15. This was a nail biting read. I was aching. Then you have to wait another month. ACHING. Then you turn around, and there’s your sponsor ???

    Excellent writing – the demons knocking on skulls & hearts – and interesting you say ‘we don’t do this alone’. I am, and that’s probably why I’m not succeeding. After work last Friday I had a 1 litre bottle of Sangria. I think of how much sugar is in that, and I wonder why I even had it. I’m at a point where I consciously do not wish to drink, but some days – just some days the taste, the smell, the desire…. but consciously, I’m thinking, “I don’t want to fall into drunken sleep. Anyway, this one’s not about me, it’s you, and I’ve got to tell you, a cliff hanger. It most certainly is wonderful you have so much support. How does that happen, I wonder? – all that support, you know? It’s great, truly great. Something I marvel at, the idea of support is. It would be great.

    Your lawyer sounds good, plus has a heart.

    The suicide – leaving behind a teenage daughter. This aches, deeply aches. What theft, theft of life is suicide. Oh God. Seriously, this hurts. And your sponsor having all those plans, but having to be strong enough to let her go (back to the drugs) because he can’t do it for her. Shit. This is such heavy stuff. This is an ENORMOUS post, Paul.

    I believe I’ve missed your cry for help with letters (if I’ve read that properly), and I apologise. Though, it is magnificent you had 40 letters, magnificent. Given that, I really am not sure why the judge needs to think longer.

    This post is so real, it is magnificent. I await the month with you.

    • Hi Noeleen,

      I always love your comments. Like your own blog, it’s just chalk full of YOU. I can’t explain it. Your honesty moves me, as does your ability to communicate what is going on with you…and so well. You are kind with your spirit.

      Support has been a wonderful thing for me, but also hard to take or understand. Feeling like a piece of shit, like I have for most of my life, it’s hard to fathom that people would reach out. I think that if this kind of thing would have happened a long time ago, I wouldn’t be able to ask for help and support. I would have tried to do it lone wolf way. But support to me now is natural, and I am able to give it back to others…wow, a new way of looking at things for me. What a concept…lol.

      But it is possible for anyone, Noeleen. Out here, I had to slowly build it. Trying to give a comment here and there. Reaching out. And in return, I found others willing to reach back out. Again, new stuff for me, to be honest. So I am in awe and marvel too, my friend. But it can happen to you as well. 🙂

      Thank you for your kind words…I think that you’re right there – I got plenty of wonderful letters, and you know, the gentle and generous words you and others have given have been something I have felt, and there is nothing wrong with tossing all that to the Universe…ha ha.

      thank you for being a part of my universe, my friend.

      Blessings,
      Paul

  16. I have been meaning to stop over here, Paul, but with the holidays and having my mother in a much better condition than she was this time last year, I’ve been spending more time with her as well as my work with the children I write for.
    Your story is truly inspiring, and I hope you know how much it means to all of us for you to be so openly raw and wise by sharing it. My mother and I were just talking about both of our recoveries over the weekend. Recovery is an irreplaceable gift but it is also a place that sometimes reminds us of the people we once were, or even are still capable of becoming by an alcoholic default. Only because we have changed so much and in the process of changing, have become something greater and more magnificent than we ever thought possible. Then we ask ourselves, “How in the hell could I have been so stupid to have done the things I did when I was a drunk?”
    I loved when you said, “not like when I was new and raw and seeping with emotional and mental sores” regarding your sponsor when he first took you on. Isn’t it incredible how much we learn as the recovery process grows? I just wish you all of the best with the outcomes of these trials and tribulations. I will be praying for you and know in my heart God has you in His best interest and hands now. You’ve conquered your demons and now, He will do the rest.

    • I am so happy to hear that your mom is doing so well, Gina. Please enjoy it!

      As for the stupid things we did when drunk…well, that’s the part and parcel of the alcoholism…or just being drunk, period. No one sorts their closet or rotates the tires on their care when drunk. We’re too busy doing foolish, embarrassing and downright dangerous stuff. Easy to look back now and see the folly of our lives. But as it is said, when caught in the grips of the grape, our life seems like the only normal one. We are looking at things with totally different glasses. Foggy, tinted, distorted ones.

      Thank you for the warm regards and comments…as usual. You are a beacon of light, my friend, and seeing how this process has healed you and your mother is inspiring.

      Blessings,
      Paul

  17. Wow Paul! You are such a great writer and I wish I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own self and had read your blog and sent you a letter for the judge! I love your blog and you! I got my sentence last week. :(. I hope you get completely off and relieved of any more consequences!

    • Regina – can’t tell you how happy I am to see you here. Glad you’re here. I am sorry to hear about your sentencing there. our illness takes us to dark places, and I certainly am not alone in this whole kind of situation. I am just grateful for being where I am right now, and you know, you and I are here still, as are anyone involved. We have our serenity, our families, our mental faculties (well, mine are rusty), our health. Sounds corny, I know, but in these situations, they come to light, to focus.

      I hope you hang around more. I miss you and your writings too.

      Blessings and hugs to you 🙂

      Paul

  18. Have I told you lately that I love you, man. I do. When I wander back into this wonderful circle of humanness here in the sober cyberworld, I wonder why I ever wonder away. This is the kind of love and support I would give the whole world, if I could. I hope this next month passes quickly and everything is resolved in ways that are beneficial instead of detrimental, but I know that whatever the ruling, you will weather it with a nobility and grace that I aspire to. And you will continue to gift us with your hard-won knowledge. I’m grateful for you.

    • Kary May! Love having you here, whenever it is.

      Thank you for the kind words – I don’t know how graceful I am when my stomach is doing somersaults or when I pig out on sweets…but I will take it. lol. I am not too worried about this month passing in agony. Oh God I hope not! That wouldn’t be living. Discussing it here is cool, and in context. Other than that, it’s not at top of mind. Mind you, a day or two before it might move more to the forefront of my cerebral cortex, but for now, I am happy just to enjoy how things are.

      Thank you for YOU – I have missed you. Saw your last post and commented. Nice to see you back 🙂

      Love ya back!

      Blessings,
      Paul

  19. Hi Paul,

    Sorry this comment is so delayed, I have made enough excuses on my own blog, I don’t need to clutter up yours! I am happy for you, at least, that the ball is rolling. As for waiting another month… all I can say is that legal stuff is legal stuff, no matter which country you live in, apparently. It all comes down to perspective, and yours a great one. I am going to take it with me, if that’s alright with you, because mine often needs adjustment!

    I look forward to the final chapter in this book very soon, and know that I empathize more than you realize!

    Please let your sponsor know that I am praying for him, his cousin, and his cousin’s family.

    • Thanks Josie. Spoke to my sponsor today and he seems much better.

      As for next month…well, will just wait it out. Out of my hands, so there is nothing else to do, except enjoy what’s in front of me 🙂

      Thanks for all that you’ve done to support me. It’s not forgotten 🙂

      Paul

    • Ha ha…thank you for the kind comments! I do enjoy the pictures as well – I get a good laugh from them when I find them on my searches 🙂

      Glad to run into you!

      Blessings,
      Paul

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