The following represents some journaling I did 2013. It contains my state of mind at that time. Today, I lot of that has changed. I post it only as a point of reference (especially as it relates to the "why" of walking the AT. If you here for technical stuff, I would skip to later posts.
Friday, August 16, 2013
I sat, alone, in my Austin, Texas apartment. Not sure why I started writing but it seemed like it was something I needed to do. I’m sixty years, four months, and sixteen days old. It is August 16, 2013.
This journal represents my attempt to justify me hiking the Appalachian Trail beginning March 1, 2014. Possibly it will follow me as I hike the trail.
I live in a rundown apartment in Southeast Austin with Scott. We met in a sober living house here in Austin back in January of 2012. Scott is a quiet person who, like myself is an addict. Is he a good person to live with? Not really. We have little in common other than our disease. He is quiet to a fault and is a complete slob though he keeps his filth to his truck and his room. As an auto mechanic, his hands are a continual reminder of how dirty he lives his physical life. I’m more of a neat nut…also to a fault. That is, of course, unless I’m drinking. When I drink all bets are off. During a binge, I will go days or weeks without bathing or cleaning the area around me. The important thing is that we get along when we see each other, which is seldom. He is no one I would hang out with in a social situation. Given that my social situations are far and few between, I shouldn’t be picky…maybe that is why I have no social situations. Using the words, “social situation” is expressed more plainly, “I have no friends or family (that want to be with me) at all. That’s not true, I have siblings that would like to spend time with me but live far enough away it doesn’t really work out. Again plainly, I never call or visit. Over the past 10 years, the only social situations I have been involved with is when I am in a treatment center. Maybe that is why I keep going back. All told…I’m a treatment “junkie.” I am institutionalized. Tell me were to go, cook my meals, listen to my shit, and give me a chance to hang with some people who get the whole addiction thing. Most important, I’m sober.
While I’ve always been a person who likes to drink, it wasn’t until about 10 years ago that I “stepped across the line.” I got busted for having an "inappropriate relationship" with my secretary and was fired from my job. Unfortunately, churches don’t have much tolerance for this kind of thing from their employees. Go figure. More than getting exposed for what I did, it was a symbolic event that exposed to the world who I really was…a person who had no self-worth, no ethics or regard for anyone but myself. I had worn a mask for my entire life. It often changed based on my location, who I was with, or the role I was playing. But there was always a mask. I couldn’t do life without a mask and it had been removed for the first time in my life. All the people I had lived with and worked with saw me as a fairly together person. The only person who knew my truth was Ann, my now ex-wife. She had put up with a domineering mother and had a high tolerance for crazy. Everyone knowing the real me was a dagger in my truth. I was a terrible person and now everyone knew it. I think my son summed it up best when he spoke his heart that frightening evening setting with him in my car. I pulled him aside to share with him what had gone on with the secretary. I figured it was better he heard it from me rather than from the pulpit in front of a thousand church members. After I shared the event, he spoke calmly and matter of fact…”Dad, you have never been the man I want to grow up to be.” I didn’t feel he was trying to hurt me but rather just stating the truth. I’m not sure he was aware of what that meant to a father. As he is now a father, I assume he has never reflected back on that conversation. Maybe he has forgotten it all together. I haven’t.
From that time to the present my life has been a train wreck. I returned to education but was prompted to retire for drinking on the job (exposed again). My wife divorced me and I don’t blame her for that. I spent loads of money on booze, legal fees, medical bills, and frivolous spending. Today, I live check to check. With my criminal record and being old I cannot find employment so I live on my pension. This is in sharp contrast to the lifestyle I lived when married. My wife works in the corporate world and is paid well. Affluence was gone with the divorce. That is not to say I was happy during my 33 years of marriage because I wasn’t. My codependency prompted me to live in fear, jealousy and anger. Every minute was so focused on my needs and what might happen to me that the anxiety, fear and anger was over the top. It was hell on earth and I thought, at the time, it was normal. This may be due to the fact that I had lived my childhood in that state of mind. That is not to say there were not good times. My freshman year in high school I became a very good football player and reaped the benefits of that fact. I can even think of a few good times during my marriage. That is not to say that If it were not for my children and grandchildren, I wouldn't turn back the hands of time in a heartbeat. I was sick and miserable from the day I was born and it took until I went to my last treatment in July of 2013. Something happened there. I began to look at how I felt. I looked at how I thought about those feelings. I looked at how I acted based on those thoughts and feelings. No wonder I lived the way I did. So I started capturing my thoughts and feelings and giving them some realistic attention. I began to see the error in these thoughts, feeling and actions. I began to accept my feeling and reframing the thoughts I had about how I felt. This led to different, more productive actions. I saw a glimpse of a healthy life. Now I sit and type as an empty shell not knowing what to do with a life that was growing old.
More on why I will walk the AT coming...
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