Tempests Follow

Dear 2016, I really want to say that it wasn't you, that it was me, but I can't. To be honest I haven't met another one like you before. Strange, enticing, emotional, you were like drinking a sriracha shamrock milkshake while riding the inverted roller coaster. I know that it could have been better if I had tried harder, though you will have to fill me in where that was because you just took a contrarian stance. I should have known though, things were just starting to go right again before you came along. Always throwing away what we have worked for for the next flashy thing. I hear you are with a casino guy now with spray on hair and tan, you sound perfect for each other. I wish that I had the chance to... WTH? Nooo! I don't wish to do it all over again, I am just going to hope that therapy and STD treatment can help me through this one. You are like the smoker that never leaves my clothes, and the little sores that pop up out of the blue to remind me of those blackou

On the fiftieth Christmas that I got to spend with some family I observed quite a bit. It has been a year of so much change, why should it stop at the family doors. Let me start by saying that the overall message I got was to stay far away and quiet and to just send money. My family I have found even more convincingly values the worth of a person by how much they make, how much they don't need anything from anyone. So since I am going through so much change, giving them what they want will be job number one.  My being unable to drive is a hindrance and a burden on people around me, so if I cannot get somewhere on my own I won't ask for a ride. The money we make is barely able to support us and falls short about time for rent, I will not ask for help. I will just let the consequences of being ill take its course and try my best to live through the outcome. I will stay my distance from family and friends because apparently I am not doing anything right enough for their standa

I haven't felt much like writing much lately. Either in a funk or a change that I am still sitting on, waiting until the next indicated thing arrives. The aspects of life that I once felt connected to so much thinned to the point of re-evaluation. There is one aspect of all of this experience though that has arisen as a point of note, about sobriety and well, life in general.  In the Big Book there is a whole chapter to the family about how to deal with the recovered alcoholic. There are simple tools that could be used to help the process along, a viewpoint that they may not envision and as well suggestions for the alcoholic in this phase of their lives. Myself, I have been having a flurry of memory recalls of the oddest and old variety, things I thought I had well forgotten. Not all of them bad or good, just there and to a certain extent troubling me, my expectations of the world, that like many things has changed its mask much in the recent months. I am finding that belief sys

I published this on the Yabberz site Months ago. I just thought it needed re-posting here.  I went to a grade school in Seattle named John B Allen. It had and still does to this day an air raid siren mounted high atop a tower in its northwest playground's corner. We used to hear it every now and then growing up, a ominous reminder to the past and an even scarier one to what its future soundings would mean. It was the Cold War and during those times before internet and instant everything its roar could start at any time. Those sounds would mean we would have just a few seconds or just a few minutes left to live, it would mean Russia would be nuking us. Yes, even as a five year old kids we knew what was in store for us, we were scared, we didn't understand this stuff. Russia was the big bad enemy growing up, and yes I will admit there will always be a certain affinity for mistrust when it comes down to dealings with that country and its leaders. It is at times l