Month: May 2011

I looked at my son for the first time. I cried. Up until that point I had only been responsible for myself. The thing with that is that I was never even responsible for myself. I was never responsible on any level. But this would be different. I would be different. I would step up and be a man. I had put down the heroin months ago. I had put down the oxycontins months ago. I was only drinking at the time, and that was fine. So after he arrived, the nurses brought in his mother some pain pills. I don’t remember exactly how many, but I know I took enough of them to pass out.

So, now my plan was failing. I was hopeless even as a father. We couldn’t even make it out of the fucking hospital before I failed. This was par for the course though, so I didn’t beat myself up too bad. But still, it was very frustrating. I spent my entire life trying to fit in, and at that point I had become a  professional. But fatherhood, well…you just can’t fake. You are either all in, or you are failing.

I was failing miserably for years. I did stuff with my son and step son, sure. But the bottom line was, the big picture was, I was only going all in when it came to taking care of myself. How does one go on like that?

How did I manage to trudge through that misery for years without killing myself?

I know why. There’s only one reason why.

I wasn’t permitted to check out yet because I was meant to be here for my son. And now, my sons. I live in a very unconventional situation, but that doesn’t affect my ability to be available. To show up where and when I’m needed. My G-d decided He didn’t need me, but my two boys did.

I finally found a place, a job where I fit in perfectly. Without ever having to pretend. I am a natural parent. It may have taken me longer than most to figure that out, but I figured it out…and I’m certain that my boys couldn’t be more pleased about that. So now my goal is to be better at it. I give it my all most of the time. I mean it is one part of my life that I really hold close. But, like everything else…I could be better. I’m just trying to figure out how to do that.

Self pity is a real bitch. In my opinion, it’s a synonym for ungratefulness. That said, I have been imprisoned in it all day. There was a block of time where I came to a false or delusional realization; That being a single father is both the most rewarding and lonely experience I have ever had. This has some truth to it, yes. But the statement in its entirety is fucking warped and twisted. The most lonely experience I have ever had? Hardly. Not even close. Yes, I can’t remember the last time I did anything for me. Took time to go do something fun just for me. I’ve fantasized about it, and the very next thought is “Are you fucking insane, you selfish prick! You OWE it to your son to be there every moment of everyday because your fucked up, dope fiend ass wasn’t for 30 seasons of his life.”  So, whether that is wrong or not, I don’t know. I just know that’s what happens.

I believe I do owe him everything. I owe a lot of people everything. But what is everything? Well, it differs depending on the person I owe. Mostly, I just owe people time, and peace of mind, and money. I robbed more family members of those three things than anything else. But sometimes, I feel I owe myself something. For whatever the reason, I can’t seem to pay that debt.

But to say that being a single father is lonely, is often true. I have zero social life. This is not an over dramatization. I can’t remember the last time I hung out with friends. I talk on the phone to them, but that’s it. I was talking to a friend the other day and while having a conversation about this subject, I realized something quite bothersome. I literally never hang out with anyone. I go to an hour long gathering of like minded individuals the same time every week, but maybe talk to people for 10-15 minutes before I have to race home to relieve my mother from baby sitting my son. That is the only time I see people outside of work.

But then I think about what it was like before I got sober. Before I found G-d. Now that was fucking lonely, that was the real deal of loneliness. I was around like minded people, but we were all shooting dope or coke and getting drunk. Then I would find myself wondering why I couldn’t just walk in front of that train I got on to sleep for a few hours because it was freezing out. My hands were often as numb as my heart.

I got to hang out with both of my sons tonight. I got to laugh a little bit too. I was in a foul mood, but did my best to mask it. My youngest son got fed pears, and several times, two handed grabbed my hand and lunged it towards his face, splattering a mixture of rice cereal, formula and pears all over his mouth, nose and chin. And I loved every second of it. My oldest son and I played Xbox together, and I baked him cookies and we sat and compared dunking times in two glasses of milk. He looked at me once, and I could’ve sworn he saw my pain. I had to get up because my eyes started watering. The last thing I want him to see is me when I am not feeling spiritually fit.

And that’s where the loneliness comes from. That’s where the lack of gratitude comes from. That’s where the selfishness comes from…a lack of reliance on Him.

Tomorrow, we will try again.

I’ll never be the same as I was before that night. When I first felt that rush. My vision still isn’t the same. I see things differently now. I view the world in a whole new way. I see hand to hands on the street before anyone I know. I see things in slow motion sometimes. A cop can’t be within a half a mile from me or I’ll smell him. I see opportunities to rob people constantly. I see really quick ways to make fast cash all the time. Occasionally, I’ll even think “I could buy a g pack, flip it 5 times, and be set for a minute. I mean, I’m not gettin high, so I’ll make bank.”  It’s a fleeting thought, but it’s there. They’re there…more than I would like. My life is more valuable today, yes. But that wasn’t a big feat. I’m a fucking heroin addict. A coke head. A violent alcoholic. A liar, a loser, a thief, a drug dealer. I sold drugs on and off for a decade without my family knowing. Without ever catching a distribution charge. Sometimes I think I could still pull it off.

I get in these moods where I forget what’s important. I forget the consequences. I allow myself to have a very selective memory. I’ll be thinking about when I shot coke, how I could taste it in my mouth…and how much I would love that taste. How my body would get over taken with the best feeling in the world, a feeling only a junkie would know. I cannot compare it to anything else. I sometimes wish I could have that feeling without the consequences, but I know I can’t. This is very scary for me. I don’t ever want to go back to the way I was.

So, I pray. Lately, I’ve been praying sporadically. I can feel the difference. I am moody, irritated, selfish, self seeking and…angry. If you were to ever get to know me, to really know me, you would know that when I don’t have G-d in my life, I am the most angry person you will ever meet. I am prone to violence, I love it.

Today, meaning the present, not just today, I seem to have more “going on” in my life than I did when I was getting high. It’s one thing after the other. I get presented with an issue, it gets resolved, then I’m presented with another one without a fucking moment to breathe. My children aren’t excluded from this cycle. I fear for the safety of my children when I’m not connected.

I am currently not connected.

I aim to change that, that’s the good news. I refuse to revisit the past in the form of my actions, my thoughts will correct themselves after I take that action toward the Right. Until then, I will battle. That’s a choice. It’s a fucked up choice but it’s a choice. I never professed to be a spiritual giant, I hope I never do.