Weeks go faster than days

It’s only been a few days since my last post, ut it seems like ages. Since I last checked in, highlights include:

• My first headhunter call in this job search, and my second scheduled for next week
• An okay intro call with what may be an immediate and fruitful consulting gig
• My first foray back onto LinkedIn

At the same time, it’s already been 2.5 weeks since I got let go and I still haven’t:

• Followed up with a consulting proposal, or even updated my resume
• Done any unemployment paperwork
• Improved a single unhealthy lifestyle choice in spite of an obvious wakeup call
• Got past the denial stage?

The burden of the reality countdown clock continues to grow.

Telling my wife I lost my job

It’s been almost a week. Most spent in a daze of blow and booze.

Avoiding reality. Avoiding what self medicating substance abuse has done to me, my family and more.

Even avoiding telling my wife.

Who should have kicked me out a decade ago for nearly bankrupting us with a daily habit of crack and Oxy. Who’s given up hopes of house repairs, vacations and so much more she – and my kids – deserves.

I’m sitting at home, in the dark, waiting for her to come home from work. I’ve even got a script ready. Something like:

• I’ve got some bad news and good news.
• I got let go yesterday (already a lie) in the latest reorganization at the company (half true)
• Everyone I talked to has shown a ton of support, including my old CEO setting up a contract gig for me (true, but not guaranteed)
• Booze played a role, and I know this is a do or die moment for me. I will go dry and I will make this right (true in theory)

So it went, and here are some of the highlights in response…all understandable and true:

• You’ve ruined me financially
• Your son knows you’re not worth looking for if you’re at the bar
• You do nothing around the house, nothing for the kids
• I can’t keep doing this

Again, all true and all warranted. All deserving. All make or break for me and my relationship with my family – assuming it’s still salvageable.

Now the question is: Are my wife, kids, family, finances, future, etc…are they important enough to change my behavior?

And if not…

Can’t avoid reality for long

Another day, another 10 pints and a gram of blow. Why? To get a little boost of energy to:

Not tell my wife.

Not sign my severance letter.

Numb reality instead of facing it.

I can’t avoid it any longer. Reality will catch up eventually. And I know the sooner the better.

To a better tomorrow.

Back in a familiar spot…again

It’s been a while but I need to get back here. I need to get what’s in my head out on paper.

The procrastination. The guilt. The doubt and self-criticism. The fear of – and set up for – failure.

Out of my head. Acknowledged. Processed.

I’ve been here before but I can’t take the months and years recovery took me after what I call “the big fall” a decade ago.

And I know what to do, starting with a return to Raising My Crazy. I’ve clearly been neglecting it for too long.

Now it’s a matter of execution. Or another essential task I put off for another day that never comes.

Wish me luck!

Celebrating small victories three weeks later

This dispatch from the Better Late Than Never Department. It’s been 3 weeks since I started my medical leave from work, and predictably, there’s good news and bad. 

The good news (aka celebrating small victories) is that I’ve gone:

• 3 separate days without drinking, spread out over 3 weeks but still more than I’ve racked up in the past 3 months (maybe years?)
• 2 weeks without any hard drugs – not my main concern but it was a decade ago so, yeah…small victories
• to 2 AA meetings so far, and actually looking forward to two coming up this week
• written – handwritten, not posted here – 3 more journal entries than what I’ve posted here
• Made dinner for the family 4 times this week – yes one was delivery, one leftovers, but hey…small victories 

I was going to get into all my mistakes since my last post but I’m already too good at that. I’m ending this dispatch on another celebration…of those beautiful small victories.