It’s a small issue I face almost on a daily basis. Something happens or I think of something or something sometimes somewhere somehow. Somewhere over the brainbow…

I wrote a while back about making this into a “recovery” blogg. Thing about that is my entire life as I live it today is predicated on recovery. — geez and there I go with one of those $65 words ($56 US), “predicated“. Shit, just say “based“, eh… – So, anything I write about can be considered “recovery”.

I sure as shite don’t want to do a flipping Dear Diary thing. “Well, today, I got up at 8:30 in the morning, took my insulin, had a small bite to eat, and went back to bed…” Gee-aw, nope, that is pure claptrap. To ramble on about that the other thing and this is just loco. I mean, I could expand that to talk about my trials of avoiding the snooze button too much (which I can push for up to 2 or 3 hours at a time) or simply hitting the Off button on both alarm runs (which sends me off to lalaland, missing insulin, food, etc. ’til like 3 in the p.m.) I could describe what I ate, which would be sorta interesting, I guess, since I very rarely eat any sort of breakfast. Going back to bed? Unh-uh, that’s just dreamtime to mid / late afternoon. I could ramble about the dreams, but they’ve just been weird wack jobs the past coupla months. Mind you, I do get a kick outa the fact a lot of ‘em are in color! Strange shit, that is!!

blah blah. The idea behind today’s missive (Random House Dictionary 1998 – noun 1. a written message; letter) is that over the past few weeks, I’ve had the thought “ooo, I should put that up on my blogg!!” But, when I get home, I think “Nah, nobody’d give a flyin’ frak about that stuff.” or “Who’d care to hear about this.” or “I’m tired. I think I’ll stay up all night on the computer playing solitaire and pool and watch a buncha streaming movies just to boost my bandwidth.” That sorta thing…

Put in my blogg. My stopping smoking (day 34 today, yay). The BS I went thru last Friday arguing with the welfare bureaucrats and my pharmacy about following protocol and who is supposed to do what and both saying it’s the other who’s gotta do it and me going “And What The Fuck Am I To Do Whilst You DingDongs Blather On??!!”, well, a li’l bit nicer than that, actually. After all, I am in recovery, hm? Or the fact that because I had a sour look on my face the second go-round at the welfare office, I had a dipshit rent-a-cop follow me downstairs, wait while I stood in line at the coffee shop, stood outside the head as I took a leak, followed me back up to the employment resource center since I wanted to confirm the he was following me, and as I started to leave the building, I went up and asked if he enjoyed tailing me all over the building. He replied that he didn’t know what I was talking about. Maybe if I’d showered, shaved, and put on my best suit… There was the volunteer thing I………… ah, fergit it there, eh.

Look, there are many things that can and do happen in my life that might just be interesting to record in this here blogg o’ mine. But, in the wisdom of an addict not thinking about the Steps and his recovery, I get full of self-doubt and concern. Call it fear. Lordee-lor, what if people out there don’t like what I write about! Conveniently forgetting the positive comments I’ve received over the past while from Nellie (thank you darlin’!), the anonymous Jane Doe from that “speck” of a country in Europe (hehe, Belgium ain’t all that small!!), and even my own son (who does tend to be a wee bit more direct and -ouch!!- honest in his approach, which I do need!) .

Ah yes, and then again, I don’t forget those two. Or any of the others who have randomly commented on my blogg. Or those who blog and I have commented on theirs. Blip blip, and back comes the self-doubt. What if…

hehe, y’know, I guess what I gotta do when I get so danged unsure is to go back to the entry from a coupla weeks ago that I actually titled “What If…”! That’s the beauty, as I always say, about my blogg or a journal. By going back and reading what was going on before, I might just get my sad sorry head around what is going on right now. I’ve proven to myself time and again that sometimes I can be my own best recovery tool. As opposed to just being a tool… .. ..

There ya go. Another slam dunk and I know what I can do. Of course, t’is now just a matter of doing what I know I can do.

Oh, and hey! I do not do this enough in the public eye. I do so formally thank all who actually take the time to read some of my grousing, grumbling, and sometimes joyful prattling. I most certainly do appreciate it. Plus, those kind words you put into my comment box invariably make me smile. Muchos gracias! Merci beaucoup a tout! Thank you to everyone!!!

Keep The Faith*