Thursday, September 18, 2008

Day two hundred and sixty ... Fearless again.

Okay.

First off, I want to thank all of you who wrote to me both in binary code as well as in regular ink on paper.

You know who you are, and if you don't, you should see a specialist.

I'd like to thank all of you who called. I try to answer the phone even when I don't want to, so, if you got a message, I must have been mashing avocados.

I'd like to also offer an addendum to my last post.

I wrote about how my whole family is dead and how I'm so god damned alone in this world right now (I know, maudlin to the end).

But I forgot to mention the support I have received from the "other" Johnsons who live in Washington state: Norma, Dirk, and Heather.

Norma is my aunt; Dirk and Heather are my cousins. And the one missing piece in the puzzle is my mother and aunt's older brother: Uncle Alex.

My Uncle Alex died ten years ago from lung cancer.

He was in his sixties and had just retired from over thirty years in the Navy.

His wife, Norma, works at a local hospice facility (and has for many years) and suggested some places I could seek out for grief counseling.

Heather and Dirk are both my age and are helping me the way they can. They write both in pen and electronically, and they call me to see how I'm doing.

They are all wonderful people and I'm glad I have them in my life.

I didn't mean to slight them by saying I'm alone, but I can't hug a phone now that they started making them so small.

So, I've got that off my chest.



On to the elephant shit in the middle of the room.

I'm still detoxing from the Oxys.

They are almost as insidious a drug as alcohol.

Almost.

And that's why I have decided to consider that I am nine days away from being nine months sober.

I've never been one to nitpick.

I let a lot of things slide.

And I'll be damned if I let something like this derail me from my main goal in this whole process:

To be true to me.

And, to me, as long as, from this day forward, I do not pick up a pill, joint, balloon (yes, they count), four-way (look it up), or bottle for the rest of my days I will consider myself a success.

This last week was a test.

I did not pass said test.

But this thing we all go through called life is filled with tests. Some we do well on; others we don't.

I will average this test in with all the others that have come before, and will come in the future, and take my score upon a time of my choosing.

But not before.

Not during.

And not until I say so.

Because who the hell does it really matter to if it doesn't matter to me most of all.



Thanks for reading,

F.A.J.


PS: I just got cable back, I have a 50" plasma on order for my living room, and a 36" for my bedroom.

Much like the Patriots who experienced a setback they could have never predicted, I am ready to go on with my season, as it were.

And yes, I am ready for some football.




3 comments:

No Stand In Will Do said...

*hug* etc
I think you're great.

Rick said...

I've just got caught up with the reading in here. I am saddened to read of your loss. As for the other stuff, you will rise above it. None of us are perfect, we passengers on this planet, but luckily we have each other to lean into when the corners are taken a bit too fast.

I am proud to know you.

F. Alex Johnson said...

Thanks Rick,

That was well put.

Inertia will get you every time. Good thing we're made so soft.