Friday, June 11, 2010
Who really cares if there isn't enough cheese
The countdown is on, and one week from today, I will no longer be a resident on rehab ranch. Last week, Brian graduated and his entire family came out from California to see him and help him move. Although my family doesn’t have nearly the distance to travel, getting them to get anywhere on time is similar in coordination to a cross country flight – and so since the graduation starts promptly at 7:30 IN THE MORNING, I will probably need to alert mission control to have travel planners scheduling their arrival as early as next Wednesday.
You can recall, even on my arrival at the farm, I was stressed out because I was supposed to arrive at 1pm and we didn’t even LEAVE until half hour before that and it’s a full hour and a half from my family’s home to the ranch. Flexibility, adaptability and patience are certainly good tools to learn while in rehab, but my strict adherence to punctuality will never go away.
At the graduations people get a chance to tell the graduates things in order to wish them luck, help them on their journey, or sometimes just a recollection of good or momentous times. Often we tell how graduates have changed over their time at the ranch. I decided to focus on the way in which Brian stayed the same, and the quality I try to emulate from him the more I have grown to love him as my friend; it’s the way Brian hands out cheese.
You see, when we first started, Brian and I worked in the kitchen as cooks. Our programs were parallel- we had the same work therapy, the same dorm, the same friends, etc. In the kitchen during that time, cheese was a scarcity, and we hardly ever got it to give to the residents. But Brian and I would double team our charming personalities and somehow manage to get some cheese out of the Kitchen supervisor for certain meals. The condition was that one of us would have to stand there and spoon a portion of cheese on each resident’s plate.
This never sat well with Brian, he wanted to put all the cheese out and he hoped that each resident would only take what was fair, what was just, what they would want the guy in front them to have taken. Each time he did this, he was let down and the cheese was usually gone in about five minutes. But he continued to put it out like this each time we were awarded cheese.
Brian has an unyielding belief in the goodness of other people. It doesn’t go away, no matter how many times people disappoint him, no matter how little people believe or lost belief in his goodness. I used to think this guy was insane, but now I say, if he is, call me crazy too.
Marty called me this past week and asked me if I wanted to head up to his house for the afternoon, Lane and I have been talking about his new venture into the world of TV, and Curtis is plugging away at school. I am the last one of this group of guys at the ranch and its seems almost silly for me to still do ranch stuff when my life has already started off the ranch. But I still do it. I am the last man standing and I need to just do this until the end. It is super comforting to know that there is a group of guys who care about me and want to spend time with me when I leave here.
So this is the key to my success at this new take on living. Sober living. I have been given a fully equipped gaggle of friends who are all sober – the first time in my life that everyone that I am closest to is sober. I think that for anyone who has something that they are trying to fix, there is a cliché in saying it is a group effort, it takes support – but I am here to say, it does.
What this means is that I am also going to be one of the guys who goes out and makes it comfortable for the guys who are still at the ranch and who will be following me in the next several months. This is how a community in built and what a really crazy community – a bunch of sober guys who all are relying on each other to keep each other busy and sane. It is the bonds we forged at the ranch that are the framework for the rest of the lives we are building. It feels good to have this.
Alcoholism is a predator – and like any predator stalking a herd, it tries to get one away, alone, all by themselves, vulnerable, then it kills them. The closer we stay together, as a herd, the less likely it is that one of us will be killed.
And I was thinking that this isn’t only applicable to alcoholism. This is how all life should be led. People should just learn to rely on each other. I read somewhere that lonely people die at a much earlier age than people with an active lifestyle and lots of people in it. We are social creatures.
So last night I was sitting in the chow hall. I don’t know why I still trudge up there, the half mile, each night, to eat that awful farm food – especially because I have a kitchen in my dorm and a fully stocked refrigerator. I think its partly because I like to talk to the new guys, I remember when I first got here that getting face time with one of the seasoned higher phase guys was great – I loved asking them questions, advice, gossip. They all seemed so calm and peaceful and I often wonered if that would someday be me.
I watched one of the newest guys walk into the dining room last night, he was nervous and I could see the fear and enthusiasm and nervousness and fledgling happiness coming from him. He bounced in, surveyed the room for a place to sit and then sat at a table on the other side of the room.
All the guys immediately came to introduce themselves to him, there is a certain ‘I know how you feel buddy, and its all gonna be OK,’ mentality that the guys greet the new guys with. Rehab is a great place to feel like you belong, I mean it.
But as I looked at the 13 months he has in front of him, and the 7 days I have in front of me, I chuckled and though, “NO FREAKIN WAY!!!” I mean it, I am done and the thought of spending one more day at the ranch….well…. it isn’t even a thought. I am physically leaving to a place where my mind and spirit has already gone.
And at devotions this morning, we had another graduation, Daryl, and as we were leaving I crossed paths with a friend Chris who is about half way through the program. There was no reason why we hugged but we both walked right towards each other, arms stretched and embraced. It feels good to be emotionally comfortable again to just hug a friend to wish him well in his day.
I thought about this for a minute too.
This is also how people should live. We spend so much time distancing ourselves from each other, from community. And I am a firm believer that all people who have an addiction suffer from one common personality trait, HYPERSENSITIVITY. There is some beauty in an almost psychic awareness of other people. But it can make hurtful things sting worse, and happy things feel so good they are almost unmanageable. It can damage self esteem, create body issues, but can also lead to INCREDIBLE creativity.
Great artists and painters and musicians and writers have been plagued by extreme sensitivity. I have often been told of my grandfather on my mother’s side – a man I hardly knew – who was ahead of his time, brilliant. He even asked my grandmother to wear shorts to a drive in movie back in the day when proper women didn’t dress like that. She was mortified but he knew which way the wind was blowing.
He built a home for his family out of nothing. I am told that he was pretty smart. But alcohol grabbed him and killed him, perhaps from lack of opportunities or lack of education or just bad timing – but not until it had ravished his body for decades and locked him in his brain from numerous strokes – all that brilliance and forward thinking, now silenced by his skull, and all that hypersensitivity trapped with no escape – he was sentenced to live in the memories of what kind of person he had been in his life, all alone. Alcohol has isolated him from the herd and now it would slowly savor it's prey. And that won’t be me.
I’ve learned a few things about addiction since I began this blog, things that they don’t teach us at the ranch. There is so much shame in it all, wrapped up in it. Whether it is sneaking a cigarette and lying to your spouse, or taking the slice of cake in the middle of the night when everyone is sleeping, or betting on the dog races online, or ‘borrowing’ $700 worth of your mother’s champagne to get loaded in your bedroom, there is shame and deception. I tell kids when I speak at the high schools, the first relationship you ruin is that of your parent’s because when they ask, “Were you drinking,” we always say, “no,” and so the first lie, the first deception, it begins there.
Through this blog I have connected with countless people and I have come to understand that EVERYONE is touched by addiction. Everyone either struggles with it, copes with it from a loved one, was damaged from it, has pain from it. Everyone.
The mere activity of telling you all about this each week was a connection I tried to make to eradicate myself of the shame of it and build bonds. It is like the a cyber hug I give to you each time I post. It is building a virtual community like the one real one I built with my friends from the ranch – these things are crucial to being a human. Isn’t it better to be touched with a spontaneous hug between buddies than by a crippling addiction?
I just think that in our lives, everyone, addicts or non-addicts (which I don’t believe truly exist), we all tend to put up these quasi-barriers, they create a netting or gate to the free flow of harmony with other people and eventually, like the grates in the farming irrigation ditch (which have all been removed at the ranch, BTW) or in your sink, they get all mucked up with a bunch of crap until eventually there is a back up.
Is it cause or effect when it comes to addiction, I don’t know. Does addiction cause more muck or does all the muck lead to destructive behaviors…. Who cares really. The fact is, when you remove BOTH things move as they should.
And so I have gotten a handle on my addiction and I am determined to keep the harmonious flow I am meant to have with other people. This will be the way I keep living as I am meant to live. Because, like Brian, I have come to believe that people are truly decent in their intentions. I don’t think anyone wakes up in the morning and says, “Today I am gonna try to be the biggest A-hole I can be,” and so when you cut people some slack, when you realize that they are a lot like you, struggling with something, trying to understand something, that they are as vulnerable to hurt, pain or a good pat on the back, it helps keep your drain clean.
So I say its quite all right to put out a big bowl of cheese, knowing it’ll be gone too soon. No one has ever died from lack of cheese, and it feels good to believe, even for a while, in the goodness of other people. No one has ever died that, either.
PS - Some of you have asked to attend my graduation, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
DAYS SOBER: 403 days - that's exactly One Year, One Month, and One week.
Posted by The Drover at 10:09 AM