Hello again, and welcome to the continuing blog of a man losing it. I’ve an hour’s internet time left here, so I’ll have to write this quick. No pressure. I realise the title of this blog is probably a bit much, and not even really the subject of the blog, but I need to start grabbing attention. Though on the AA front, I’m a little tired of their rhetoric after 22 years of it.
Let’s start with 26 year-old Rob. I wasn’t in a great place back then. This was probably around the time my drinking was becoming problematic, and I was living in a situation that wasn’t all that healthy (I won’t go into exact details).
Anyway, I was looking for that ‘thing’, the thing creatives need to pull themselves out of the myre. It was about 1996. I’d started drawing comic strips of people in my life that were not good for me, only to be chided about it by others. I was recording songs using two tape decks, so I could harmonise and play bass along to myself on guitar, and writing poetry (yeah… I know! Poetry!).
It was the year I’d discovered Dylan Moran and Bill Bailey, and we were in between The Bends and Okay Computer. But I never had ‘it’. I’d try stuff and give up. I SHOULD have persevered, but discipline was never in my nature. My other option at the time was AA, an oft-mooted solution by my ma, who was rather militant about her al-anon lifestyle, so mainly to keep her happy I went down that route instead. I wish I’d never heard of the fuckers.
Thankfully the Sisters of Cuan Mhuire recently cured me of any respect for or faith in anything AA has to offer. Even with the shit I’m in now, I know I can’t go back there and retain any sort of honesty with myself. Sponsors and steps and ‘spiritual growth’. Listen, motherfuckers, life IS spiritual growth and steps, you don’t need it in writing. It’s like they’re telling you ‘you can’t control things in life, now here’s some leaflets to help you control things in life.’ I DO realise it’s helped out a lot of people over the years. Usually the type of people who use words like ‘surrender’.
Another option presented to me was to go into another residential program with the Simon Community, which will first involve 10 days of jumping through hoops, with 5 piss-tests, but where will residential care get me? There ARE people in my life who want me there, but that’s not going to keep a man sober, if the sobriety is controlled until the day it’s not.
I’ve managed to stay sober thus far, since the detox, mainly because it’s required for staying in the hostel I’m in. Though apparently you ARE allowed drink during the day once you don’t bring any back, or turn up pissed. At least one resident does so and is quite open about it. But if I could do that, I wouldn’t have a problem, right?
I’m currently pointlessly chasing paperwork to get into a better place, and it turns out the bureaucrats are still getting it wrong. I needed a form which it turns out I didn’t need and was of no use anyway, ‘cos they’re not taking names for another month, etc. I know that sentence doesn’t make sense, but that’s how much sense all this makes. I’m ‘ok’ in the hostel I’m currently in, but I don’t have the freedom to say, stay in a friend’s on any give night, because I HAVE to be there every night to keep the bed. Not smoking. It’s quite a lonely existence.
You’re kicked out at 9am, and left to wander the streets all day. If I’m lucky and still have money, I’ll go sit in Thomas House for an evening sipping splash coke and drawing til it’s time to check in for the night, though that won’t be happening again ’til next dole day. I’ve 30 cent to my name right now, but hey, at least I know where to get free food, and I think I can make my tobacco stretch. So for now it’s walking about with people shouting at me to vote yes. Or no. Or yes. Or …wait….what? Listen, I’m getting mighty sick of these campaigners at this stage. PEOPLE WILL VOTE HOW THEY WILL VOTE! What’s the fucking point in starting a 50,000 euro kickstarter campaign to get ‘Vote Yes’ posters printed? You absolute cunts. Do something REAL with your lives.
Did I mention this would be an angry blog? Maybe I’m out of order. In fact, there’s no ‘maybe’ about it. I should have an ‘Out Of Order’ sign around my neck. I was doing fine for a time. But Jesus the last 7 or 8 years have been getting tougher by the day. It MAY have started with the near fatal beating I got, and the other subsequent attacks. I’m not blaming them per se, but it all certainly affected my decision-making skills. Haven’t been able to live up to or stick with a single decision since. Relapse after relapse, broken relationship after broken relationship, it wears me out. I’m at an all time low, and all I can do is hope the next day is a little better. It always feels like it’s a little worse, though.
At the moment I wonder where I’ll be in life when the new series of Doctor Who starts. Oh God, the fucking feminists are going to try and appropriate that too, aren’t they? Fuck.
This has been Rob, today. Don’t like it? Fuck off.