Nothing much excites me. I have made some good decisions and grown my business to a level I used to only dream about. I have been lucky enough to rent the warehouse next door to mine so now I have 2 warehouses full of stock. That sorts of excites me, but I know how shallow it is. I have designed the business so I don’t need any staff except to help me unload the shipping containers. I can isolate in my success with my stock.
I need my addiction to keep me motivated. I push through at work, focussed and intense. I am glad I am able to work consistently again since I am clean. I don’t have to schedule psychedelic days and then the recovery days. I even do my accounts Saturday morning and have an enjoyable afternoon feeling I have been productive. Then Sunday I try and take a day off, knowing I will crash during the week if I don’t. I don’t know how to relax. I can’t turn it off. I can’t really enjoy my deserved time off.
I go to work Monday and organise my stock into the new warehouse next door. It’s hot and humid and I second guess myself of where to put things. I’m wrapped up in my head, but I am busy, in motion like a shark keeping the addiction at bay. My wife who works in the business packing the smaller mail order products comes to say hi. She just wants to share her love and give me some attention. I break because I think it’s the right thing to do. I don’t have any pressing deadlines, I am not doing anything that important that I can’t break for five minutes.
But I am compelled to keep working. It takes all my strength to stay present for her, which I fail at. There is a gnawing at the back of my head, “get back to work.” Deep in my bones the work feels more important than love. The work feels like love; honour, commitment, duty, but I know it’s a façade. If I could just give all my love and attention to this beautiful woman I married she would be so happy. But I want to get the work done so I can have a real break, which involves transferring my obsession from work to TV and coffee for 20 minutes while I still ignore her.
We finish work and I take her to her optometrist appointment. I wait for her on the couch in the shopping centre. A dark shadow approaches me from the side. “What the fuck does this degenerate want?” I think as I turn and see it is my friend from AA. I put my book down and we chat for a bit and then I have a novel idea. Instead of going back to my book I can invite him to go for a coffee. He accepts and we head to the food court. He tells me about his weekend and how he went to the raceway to watch the sprint cars with a few other members on Saturday night. I remember how I used to do social things with members, I really should get involved again. Then he tells me he didn’t get home till 1am. Oh no, I couldn’t do that, I think. It would mess up my whole next day – for my isolating activities.
We finish our coffees and say good bye. My wife is finished at the optometrist so I had back there and help her select her new glasses, she looks cute. We go home and make dinner together. Fresh pasta and creamy bacon sauce, I cook, she cleans. Then I go to the meeting. I’m driving my old Mercedes and I feel empty again. By all accounts I’ve had a great afternoon. Helped my wife, coffee with a friend, delicious meal, and now off to a meeting I really like. I’m empty, nothing excites me, I can’t enjoy the simple things that I recognise I am so lucky to have in my life. I look around at the old Merc. It still looks good, despite being 18 years old. I will feel better when I buy the 2016 BMW 330i I’m planning to get. Oh, stop it! I tell myself as I chuckle – at least I still have a sense of humour.
I get their early and the carpark is full of familiar faces. I have a chat with the smokers and feel part of the fellowship. I get a cuppa and the meeting starts. I identify with some of the shares and I reflect on my own experience. I ask myself how I can get involved. I remember the service I used to do and ponder why I just leave my tea cup on the kitchen bench after the meeting – so selfish, but even more self-destructive than selfish because I wouldn’t mind washing the half dozen cups anyway, it’s not like hard work. I decide I will do the dishes after the meeting.
The meeting is almost finished and I am looking forward to help pack up and do the dishes. The chair person says. “There are a few people that haven’t shared so we might go over time.” I cringe. I hate going over-time. A good meeting starts on time and more importantly finishes on time. I’m hoping the last remaining members that haven’t shared have the decency to decline. With that this guy just starts sharing without even being asked and goes into this rambling diatribe for what feels like forever. I want to run. Fuck doing the dishes. I just want to go home.
He finally stops his dribble and we close the meeting. I put some chairs away, grab a couple of dirty cups off the floor, and head to the kitchen. There is already someone filling the sink about to do to the dishes. I drop the cups next to her, say a couple quick goodbyes as I head out of the building and go home.
Red Pill Recovery 