i’m not very good at these things

what do i mean by the title? well, while i’m also not very good at keeping journals, that’s not what i’m meaning. what i mean is there are things in this life that i just plain suck at – i’m not very good at these things. managing my life? completely suck. managing money? i’m spending it on expensive shit i want instead of being wise. michael’s plan? never works. my plan involved me never quitting drinking because i honestly didn’t think i had a problem. michael’s plan involved not facing problems. again. never works as intended, and i always end up with BUYER’S REMORSE. you’d think i’d learned that in my almost 40 years here on this planet. “hi. i’m michael and i’m an alcoholic…”

in A. A. today, the topic of discussion was what brought us to A. A. in the first place. some folks were forced by law or other rehab program. i’ve heard countless stories from people sharing that they have had multiple DUI’s and have destroyed their lives far beyond what i have ever done. but that doesn’t mean i haven’t done bad things or don’t continue to suffer from the same ILLNESS of mind. personally, what brought me in the door to my very first meeting was an honest desire to stop my problem with drinking too much. i figured ‘what the hell do i have to lose? other’s have gone and had success. maybe i could learn how to control my drinking and be on top of it.’ – like there was some secret formula to where i could magically all of a sudden properly manage what has been unmanageable my entire drinking life. i didn’t know what to expect. i mean, i already had the social anxiety thing going. i could feel it in the bottom of my stomach. about ten solid minutes into the meeting i quickly discovered my thoughts were as far from the reality of my situation as they had been the moment i took my first drink. i really had a problem. as i listened to these new found friends share about their struggles, i could relate to them. this is something i’ve never had before. this is a completely new experience for me. i’ve always felt so alone and that i was the only one who thought the way i did, did the things i’ve done, lied the way i’ve lied, and been as selfish as i’ve been. i’ve never really fit in anywhere. so many people that day shared almost exactly my experience. i decided right then and there on that very spot sitting next to the really nice gentleman who first welcomed me that i had stumbled upon the exact place i needed to be, with the people i needed to be with. i had a problem and i wanted to be a better person.

A. A. is a safe place for me. i can share what’s on my mind or what i’m going through or what all i have been through with reckless abandon – when i can work past my anxiety to do so. there’s no judgement from anyone there. only friendly faces who UNDERSTAND. there’s not a day that goes by that i do not thank GOD that i stumbled into that first A. A. meeting and for the new friends i’ve met. just today i told my sponsor that i thank GOD for him every day. he puts up with my bullshit. he lovingly guides me through the steps, and when i fuck up (like not calling him when i’m having a rough day or something) he lets me know i’ve fucked up or not had the right mindset. he knows what that can lead to. i honestly don’t know if i’d be sitting here typing this out had i not had my moment of clarity and taken my dumb ass to A. A. God put these people in my life and God is carrying me through this rough time in my life. just today, i noticed how well i handled a situation that used to without fail cause me to drink – THAT’S NOT ME DOING THAT. i honestly don’t know where it came from. i have some kind of strength from somewhere else and i believe it has a lot to do with me simply acknowledging and doing steps 1 through 3 as honestly and sincerely as i can. this can only be strength and courage from a higher power.

speaking of a higher power, i want to share a little about my experience with the Christian faith and go into a little more detail about my story. i grew up in the church. my grandparents, (whom I absolutely adored growing up) were very involved in the church. my grandfather was a gospel musician who never missed an opportunity to play piano for anyone. the man suffered greatly from arthritis in his hips and legs. at 21, he was walking with a cane. he prayed daily for God to never let it get to his hands so he could keep playing the piano for Him. My grandmother, as much as she tried, couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. but you know, she was right there in the choir all the same – singing her heart out on sunday mornings. my grandparents and their love for others and for music is the main reason i am a musician. it’s the reason i love it so. it is my PASSION. it’s a huge part of who i am as a person. and sober me can really lay it down. drunk me? blows past the end of the song and keeps playing, therefore causing the rest of my band to yell at me and throw me off stage. if you want to know the result of that night, they ended the set early and i didn’t even get paid for being there. i had plenty of beer though! they never called me back to play another gig with them. they hired another drummer. drunk me? starts playing with the worship orchestra at a fairly large church and sneaks drinks, while driving in circles around the block, in between the four different sunday morning services they had in place to accommodate the amount of members in the congregation. i played trumpet at the time. if you know what i’m talking about here, i could transpose a melody line from a sheet of organ music from the key of C to Bb (which the trumpet is in) on the fly. i didn’t need no stinking sheet music. just tell me the key it’s in. chances were i’d heard the song somewhere and knew how it went. and my grandfather was the same way. he would always add so much more than what was written on the page. he would structure the chord progressions differently to make more impact. so to say he was somewhat of a role model for me is putting it lightly. he died when i was eight years old and was just starting my musical journey. that was a terrible day. i’ll never forget crying on my grandparent’s bed in their room and seeing my grandfather’s cane, motionless in the corner. at eight years old…just…rough. it’s also safe to say my music is also very connected to my spirituality. however, i began to hold prejudices and resentments for the people i’d interact with and see every wednesday and sunday. i was jealous of their perfect little lives always parading their perfect little families around pretending they never had any problems looking down their noses at sinners like me who struggle with real life problems. i have felt for so very long like the people at church draw a line in the sand and say, “you have to be over here on this side of the line to get the good stuff.” so i just quit going. i never really felt like i was at home there anyway, no matter what church it was. i’ve been to methodist churchs, baptist churches, presbyterian churches, episcopal churches. i’ve done the seventh day adventist thing, attended temple at a few messianic synagogues, and i’ve had plenty of time spent in mass. (are you really a musician if you haven’t?) i never felt like i fit in anywhere. i’ve always gone against the grain. it wasn’t long before i started to get the idea that it either wasn’t for me, God meant me to be a traveler, or God abandoned me like my father did. i didn’t know if i was being too hard on God or what, but i started to blame Him for everything i saw wrong, and everything that went wrong in my life. it was a downward spiral that lasted years. i would wake up a in a strange hotel room after a night of drinking in a completely different city. i would have missing time. i would have to do the forensic files thing and figure out how much money i’d spent, what all i did, how much i drank, or how much damage i caused. this wasn’t a sustainable model for a good marriage at all. the times i didn’t black-out, you’d find me stumbling around the house very drunk and wanting sex, sometimes being very explicit about it in front of my 4 and 7 year old daughters. i found myself in a very bad place. my wife finally had enough and told me the romantic part of our relationship was over, and divorce became a real possibility right then and there in that very moment. it seemed like it was out of the blue to me, but i now know that she’s been putting up with my shit for years. i put her in this place. i did this. and while since that day she’s come around to going into counseling to see if we can rebuild some connections, it’s still rough from time to time. we’re currently separated, but still living in the same house. and back around to the title we go: i’m not very good at these things. i’m not good at handling rough patches AT ALL. my anxiety and stress gets sky high and then i want to self medicate with a handle of crown royal – because i hate the person i am sometimes.

BUT, the thing is, lately i haven’t struggled with that as much as i have in the past, even in the midst of a very large setback in mine and my wife’s relationship progress that we had occur today. what could possibly be the difference? it’s not like i magically cured myself of this SICKNESS. here’s what i did today: i took my dumb ass to an A. A. meeting and i saw friendly faces and i shared what was going on with me. that’s what i did. my friend steve has this saying, ‘meeting makers make it.’ so while others are out there sipping it up, my ass is in A. A. chipping it up. (i’m referring to the 24 hr, 30 day, 60 day, 90 day, 6 month, 9 month, and 1 year chips if you aren’t familiar) KEEP COMING BACK it says on a sign right above the exit.

i had a good share in a recent meeting. i think it was last week. my friend steve told me it was a “power share,” and that he was proud of me. what i shared with the room was this: i’ve spent a lot of time in church trying to do well and live right, but i just couldn’t manage to get it right. (i’m not very good at these things) i’ve spent years feeling alienated by the people there and judged harshly for being a sinner. all this time i couldn’t relate at all to anybody there. it’s not that they aren’t nice people. i couldn’t relate to anyone. but the day i first walked into an A. A. meeting it felt like i was at home. i can’t speak for anyone else in that room, but for the first time in my life i felt God loving me.

i have 37 days today. i think i’ll do another 24 hours.

-michael