No Shame In Shame

It seems that the longer I go down this journey of uncovering, discovering (and hopefully discarding and/or applying), the less I seem to know. The more I understand, the less I truly understand. The more questions I seem to answer only creates even more questions, like bunny rabbits left unchecked with Barry White music left…

Who Do You Think You Are?

One of the greatest struggles I have had in my recovery so far is the question of who am I? Or namely, who am I meant to be?  And that is really what it comes down to.  Who am I meant to be, rather than who do I think I should be?  I lived a life…

Upon Where I Touched Another Woman’s Boob

It’s not what you think. Or more accurately, it is sort of is what you think, but it’s not why you think it is. Let me back up. I have this thing I do at work.  Well, work is mainly the one thing I do at work (okay, I might hang out on the computer a bit…

Making Right, Not Making Nice

I am in the hospitality trade.  Where I work now, we host many functions – tour groups, weddings, post-convention get togethers, corporate gigs, holiday parties and a slew of other special events. That is on top of several dining outlets that we have in the building.  At this time of year, we do more of…

Breaking Anonymity, Or The Unmasking Of El Hijo Del Santo

I received an email yesterday from a woman whose son is an alcoholic and who has been struggling alongside her boy and his illness.  I recall talking to the young man last summer over the phone, who had planned on getting into the old treatment center I went to.  He was unsure of this proposition,…

Slow Ripening Fruit

I am not a good friend. Ok, now let me rephrase that in a more positive light, in a new context, a way that doesn’t make me sounds whiny and self-pitying, which is not the point of this writing.  Here goes again. I haven’t learned to be a good friend. Is that better?  Does it…

Birds Got Peckers and Bees Got Buzz, Baby

Sex. There – I said it. When I speak of sex here, it’s not in the full physical, erotic sense.  While that’s a small part of the whole sex thing, sex in recovery terms is more about our relationship with the opposite sex (or the sex that we are attracted to.  But I will save…

Back When The Beaver Hit The Bong

Ah the good ol’ days. Well, more accurately, the past as we perceive through a hazy nostalgic set of goggles which are adjusted to a setting  that only allows us to acknowledge only what we want to see, deflecting and ignoring the things that don’t feed into the false ideal and image that we choose…

Oh Dear Me

[Warning – have your finger on the “ignore”, “next” or “whatever” buttons on your keyboard, phone or carrier pigeons.  I am not sure of what other people’s method of communication is these days, but I am assuming that it’s not winged, but I don’t want to be exclusive.  Just all-inclusive, like those Dominican Republican resort…

Not So Sweet Tidings

The experiment is over. The research is done, the facts are in, the jury has handed over a sweaty folded piece of paper over to the judge. No more sugar for this dude. At the end of last January, I wrote about my decision to go sugar free.  Re-reading it with fresh eyes recently, I…