Feeling better.
I'm feeling much better than yesterday. Boy, that was awful. I still have squat to do today. I can probably get to a meeting this afternoon. I went to one last night. It's so good to be back in those rooms. I don't even know these people here, but they feel like family. Actually, before when I was trying to get sober and was having a terrible time with losing my wife, kids, and my own family, I remember that I adopted the people in A.A. as my family. I had been going on so long just crying, and couldn't focus on anything but my loses. Then one day I heard somebody say something about A.A, as my family. I thought about that for a bit, and decided that it was true. It was all I had. All my life the most important thing to me was to have a family, and losing mine was very traumatic to me.
So, yesterday after doing my journal I took my muffins and went to the park. it was very nice, and the sun was out. I started thinking about how I would be at the shelter, or if the two staff members were going to piss me off again. I decided to go for a walk in St. James cemetary. It was really, very nice. St. James is about the oldest cemetery in Toronto. some of the stones are from people in the 17 hundreds. Can you imagine being around in that time. I kept getting mental visuals of people from the older days, and how things would be. I'de love to experience that.
Anyway, after walking around a bit, and reading some of the stones I started feeling calm, and peaceful. I read some stones where people had lost their babies when they were only a month old. Other stones I could see how much some people had loved the dead person. Some had pictures of the lost one, some had fresh flowers, or plastic flowers around the stone. I even came across some stones from great families from the older days, of people that had lived and died in Toronto and helped in some type of government service in laying the foundations of the beginnings of Toronto. It was so quiet in there that my mind had a chance to rest. Later I came out feeling centered, and peaceful. It was great. I loved it.
As I was walking home after. I noticed that my mind was quiet, and not so angry and judgemental. Because of prison, I have been struggling with very negative thoughts about racism because of the way that some black people were in there. It's like a tug of war between prejudism, and God's way. I try not to think that way, but it's a constant thing. But walking back I started to realize that all these people were once little babies and they had mothers that loved them too at some time. My whole being seemed a lot more peacefull
When I got back to the shelter I was alright. I had decided upon my return that I would just act properly toward the staff. I would not try and prove anything, or show that I was right. When I came in I did exactly that, and you know what? Nothing happened. Nothing like my mind had been telling me. And they were very nice towards me too. I realized that it's not important to prove that, "I'm right." And if I'm really truthful, they might not have said things the way I would like them to have, but what was really pissing me off was that the major parts were true. I had been acting badly when I was drinking. I couldn't see it, but I know from past experience that others do, and I do know that I'm not Mr wonderful like my mind tries to tell me
That distortion of our perceptions can be so strong. I remember about twenty years ago when I was first trying to get sober and I went to, and through, a 3 month treatment program, about 2 years in and out of meetings, talking to people and all kinds of mental torture before I was able to start seeing the truth for what it really was. While married I really believed I was a good husband and father, and I swore up and down that I was. I forget what it was, but something I heard one time made me try something different. I only imagined that what was bejng said about me just might have some merit. I just pretended that they were right, and I tried putting myself in their places. More and more the truth started seeping in. I realized that no, I wasn't a good husband and father. I had tried with all I had to be one, but I was only able to love as much as the booze and drugs would allow me to. It's very sad to me now because I never wanted to be this way. I did try my damnedest but I just couldn't always do it.
There are horrible things that slowly started drifting back to my mind, and I still have a lot of pain about that. I loved my wife with all my heart, but I now realize that when we are suffering with addictions we can only love others as much as the substances allows us to. I remember times where I was so selfish and put my job, money or other things first in place of my family, because I thought those things were what made me. I would give my life to take all that back, but I know I can't. I try not to dwell on things and beat myself up over it, because that just doesn't do any good. If I'm trying to get sober it will most likely get me drunk. But I do think that inside of me I am still very angry that it happened. So many things happened that looking back, I seemed forever to be saying sorry.
Well, just going to try and let this day be a good one. I can't get my frigging E-mails on this computer. I don't know why, but it's bugging me because I'm trying to look for jobs too, but I can't get any replies to my E-mails. I'll try the library later. Anyway, have a good day.
So, yesterday after doing my journal I took my muffins and went to the park. it was very nice, and the sun was out. I started thinking about how I would be at the shelter, or if the two staff members were going to piss me off again. I decided to go for a walk in St. James cemetary. It was really, very nice. St. James is about the oldest cemetery in Toronto. some of the stones are from people in the 17 hundreds. Can you imagine being around in that time. I kept getting mental visuals of people from the older days, and how things would be. I'de love to experience that.
Anyway, after walking around a bit, and reading some of the stones I started feeling calm, and peaceful. I read some stones where people had lost their babies when they were only a month old. Other stones I could see how much some people had loved the dead person. Some had pictures of the lost one, some had fresh flowers, or plastic flowers around the stone. I even came across some stones from great families from the older days, of people that had lived and died in Toronto and helped in some type of government service in laying the foundations of the beginnings of Toronto. It was so quiet in there that my mind had a chance to rest. Later I came out feeling centered, and peaceful. It was great. I loved it.
As I was walking home after. I noticed that my mind was quiet, and not so angry and judgemental. Because of prison, I have been struggling with very negative thoughts about racism because of the way that some black people were in there. It's like a tug of war between prejudism, and God's way. I try not to think that way, but it's a constant thing. But walking back I started to realize that all these people were once little babies and they had mothers that loved them too at some time. My whole being seemed a lot more peacefull
When I got back to the shelter I was alright. I had decided upon my return that I would just act properly toward the staff. I would not try and prove anything, or show that I was right. When I came in I did exactly that, and you know what? Nothing happened. Nothing like my mind had been telling me. And they were very nice towards me too. I realized that it's not important to prove that, "I'm right." And if I'm really truthful, they might not have said things the way I would like them to have, but what was really pissing me off was that the major parts were true. I had been acting badly when I was drinking. I couldn't see it, but I know from past experience that others do, and I do know that I'm not Mr wonderful like my mind tries to tell me
That distortion of our perceptions can be so strong. I remember about twenty years ago when I was first trying to get sober and I went to, and through, a 3 month treatment program, about 2 years in and out of meetings, talking to people and all kinds of mental torture before I was able to start seeing the truth for what it really was. While married I really believed I was a good husband and father, and I swore up and down that I was. I forget what it was, but something I heard one time made me try something different. I only imagined that what was bejng said about me just might have some merit. I just pretended that they were right, and I tried putting myself in their places. More and more the truth started seeping in. I realized that no, I wasn't a good husband and father. I had tried with all I had to be one, but I was only able to love as much as the booze and drugs would allow me to. It's very sad to me now because I never wanted to be this way. I did try my damnedest but I just couldn't always do it.
There are horrible things that slowly started drifting back to my mind, and I still have a lot of pain about that. I loved my wife with all my heart, but I now realize that when we are suffering with addictions we can only love others as much as the substances allows us to. I remember times where I was so selfish and put my job, money or other things first in place of my family, because I thought those things were what made me. I would give my life to take all that back, but I know I can't. I try not to dwell on things and beat myself up over it, because that just doesn't do any good. If I'm trying to get sober it will most likely get me drunk. But I do think that inside of me I am still very angry that it happened. So many things happened that looking back, I seemed forever to be saying sorry.
Well, just going to try and let this day be a good one. I can't get my frigging E-mails on this computer. I don't know why, but it's bugging me because I'm trying to look for jobs too, but I can't get any replies to my E-mails. I'll try the library later. Anyway, have a good day.
Replies