I had a brief lunch with my father who I haven’t seen in about 20 years a few months ago. I guess it has been a mutual distance, physically we are on different sides of the States. We added each other on facebook a few years ago. So theres been idle chit chat here and there, but at lunch we talked more. He told me his woes and I didn’t say much. I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut.
One thing that really sticks out about our visit is he said he has no problem “accepting what is”, and that’s a talent I wish he had taught me. Maybe i was good at it when i was younger, but now I have a lot of problems. Even when things are good. Things have been seemingly good for almost a year now. Am I accepting what is? Not really, no. When i go to the fridge and something isn’t there, i can say well i cant have that, and move on. but in the fridge of life, its much more difficult.
i cut myself shaving the other day and I’ve been having to change band aids frequently. If I don’t, then it will never heal. It might keep bleeding, it might eventually heal but it’ll be gross. Much like my childhood and life with an addict, i have trouble seeing the wounds. I feel them sometimes, when being around people, when asked how I am or how I’m doing. I dunno is my answer most of the time. I feel everything and nothing at the same time.
i guess this is what people talk about when they’re talking about their recovery, the fog finally clears and they can see what the problem is and they’re finally ready to do something about it. I went into my first meeting in 2002, or 03, and i had an idea of why i was there but not all the way how it applied to me. Not sure if I’m quite there yet. But this time of the year reminds me of my old wounds, I know they are still there but not quite sure what to do about it yet. I have trouble accepting what is, and how I am today. There is no nice ending to this, not yet. I guess thats the point of recovery. It’s ongoing.
Diary 