March 1

In an instant, I was airborne.

Strangely, I was more interested in keeping my coffee inside my cup than in anything else. Sure, I wondered if I’d hit the ceiling. Who wouldn’t? But at the time, it didn’t seem quite as important as controlling a pint of piping hot brew. I did not, however, look far enough into the future to prepare for the impact of landing.

The little yelp I let out as I reached my zenith was drowned out by a great crash, a cacophony of rattles and a metallic scraping-grinding noise as 20 tons of city bus landed, bottomed-out its suspension and dragged something expensive-sounding along the pavement.

An instant later, a rebounding seat met my falling posterior and I felt the discs in my spine compress, one by one. I offered a quick, millisecond prayer that they were still sufficiently resilient to absorb and dissipate the impact.

As my fellow riders all looked at me in open-mouthed shock, I took a quick inventory.

• Coffee still in the cup? Check.
• Skull still atop the spine? Check.
• Toes still wiggle? Check.
• New minor back pains? Ummm, three.
• New intense pains sufficient enough to warrant medical treatment and the hiring of legal council? None.
• Wanna do it again? Nope. Sorry. Once was one time too many.

Until the time we lost contact with University Ave at Prince St, it had been a fun ride as the driver — who, unfortunately, was considerably less cute than Keanu Reeves when he launched a city bus — tried to make up for running ten minutes late.

I already knew I’d missed my transfer. Why not enjoy a few unexpected Gs as compensation? I have an answer for that now.

Fifteen hours later as I’m writing this and, with the exception of the three new aches and pains, I still seem none the worse for wear. That sort of thing changes, one way or the other, overnight. We’ll see how Saturday morning feels.

March 2

It was a night filled with leg cramps and IMAX® theater dreams complete with THX® sound and a cast of characters from 25 and 30 years ago. There as a lot of destinationless driving. One morning when I awoke at my beach house, (yes, I sleep and even dream in my dreams,) I found water spraying out of the electrical outlet in the kitchen. This was because the wall was completely filled with water.

Undeterred, I felt both the wet spray and the electricity’s tingle as I plugged in the coffee pot. No one else seemed to care about either, including the landlord who said he was tired of fixing things and had decided to raze the structure instead.

When I woke up, this time for real, my bedtime pill was still on the desk next to my water bottle. I’d gotten it out, but neglected to actually take it. I don’t recall putting it back this morning either. So I must have taken it along with my morning pill. Which may explain why I’m feeling sort of relaxed and drowsy at noon.

Well, a nap helped.

The bus ride yesterday was the most exciting thing to have happened around here in a month. That’s not to say nothing’s happened. Just nothing really exciting.

Three weeks ago I started the internship at the hospital. I was on my way there yesterday, which explains why I could be so casual about deciding whether or not to seek medical treatment. I was going to a hospital anyway, so I could afford to wait and see how things went. I feel fine today.

Anyway, yesterday was the big meeting with the web guy in the IT department. He started with the attitude, “you take care of the content, send it to us and we’ll but in the framework and post it to the intranet site.”

An hour later he was telling me where to find the resources I need and saying, “I’m looking forward to working with you on this. Maybe you can teach me more about your methods and techniques.”

That felt really good.

Earlier in the month, I helped a client with some technology issues and made some suggestions they used in a grant they’re applying for. Included in the grant, is a bit of geek work for yours truly. Now we just wait for funding.

The same client has a site they’ve wanted to update. It’s going to be an open bidding process. I’m not sure when the whole thing will start. But there was some work they needed done right away. I did that and spent a few days on reworking the code for the entire site. I just couldn’t stop myself.

I submitted the work they asked for, plus two new versions of their site I did on speculation. They chose the one I liked best too.

In the end, they got a whole new foundation and framework for their existing content. It doesn’t interfere with the open bidding process. Basically I did all the scut work that any bidder would have had to do in a redesign and put a pretty new face on it. Still, they have a shiny new site and I have a new page in my portfolio. The check came in this morning’s mail.

Another nap. And I feel like having a third. I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight as it is.

I’ve known all along that this whole period was going to be a big adjustment. I gave myself credit for what I’ve learned so far and I gave myself permission to screw up the implementation occasionally. Thus far, it’s going pretty well.

When I entered recovery, I had only a couple of goals. First, to “get well”, whatever that meant, and the second to be able to see when I’m going wrong early enough to be able to do something about it.

I’m well along the path to the first goal. Not there yet, but I’m far enough that I feel good most of the time. I knew I wouldn’t be tested on the second goal until I began my re-entry into real life. That’s begun, and that’s going pretty well too.

One of the hallmarks of addiction is a hugely inflated ego and sense of pride, coupled with a deflated and downtrodden sense of self-worth and self-esteem. The trick is to deflate ego and pride while boosting self-worth and self-esteem. It’s more difficult that you may think because many times the ego gets the positive messages intended for the self-esteem.

That’s exactly what’s been happening to me these past few weeks. I’m delighted that I can see it and that I know it’s backwards. I’m having the expected amount of trouble in shifting things from one to the other.

What I’ve noticed is has been changes in my personal interactions. Arrogance is making a comeback and arrogance is firmly rooted in ego and pride. In me, it’s accompanied by guilt feelings that knock the self-esteem back down. Humility, which feeds self-esteem is getting lost in there someplace.

All I ever asked for was the ability to notice these things. Now I need to ask for help in getting them back into the right balance. I’m working on it. Progress, not perfection.

Structuring my time is working about as well. Which is to say around half the time. I knew that such a rigid structure would be vulnerable to reality. And I knew it would be tested fairly quickly. I can’t make the world work only during Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings. I’ve done okay, about half the time, in accommodating reality within my rigid time-management structure.

What I’ve learned along the way it that I have already have strong, fine-tuned facilities to deal with it. Compartmentalization.

As you may recall, I last discussed compartmentalization back in September of 2000, I think. At the time I described all sorts of feelings I’d kept put away in little boxes. Most of it was anger, fear, resentment and like. I also described a big empty void in my middle that seemed to swallow up everything I tried to fill it with. (Although strangely, it rejected the contents of the little boxes. It’s a shame because it would have made a great disposal.) And we all know how the rest of my life was a huge entangled mess.

I don’t know what happened to the huge empty void. Something filled it or it just plain disappeared. I suspect it was a manifestation of feeling hurt, vulnerable and wounded.

As I’ve emptied the little boxes of their anger, fear and resentment, I never did anything about their framework. I left them empty. What I found is that those little boxes are exactly the thing to use to keep the rest of my life from getting all entangled.

I’m learning to put client issues in one, hospital issues in another and so on. I put the boxes away for safekeeping until it’s time to work on the issues they contain. This is leaving my “free” time remarkably unencumbered. Well, unencumbered is probably not the right word, but those work-like issues aren’t competing for my attention when I’m in time that’s not devoted to them.

That too has been a modest success. I can get it to work about half of the time. That’s real progress for me. A long way from perfection too, but it’s something that makes life livable.

Meanwhile, I’ve kept the sex/boyfriend/lover issue firmly locked away in a cupboard for almost two years now. Those yearnings are making themselves more and more strongly known. And I know it’s another big set of issues for me.

I can’t even entertain the notion of plain anonymous sex because I’m ready to phone the movers and pick out china patterns long before the act is complete. (At a recent meeting I was asked, “Are you sure you’re not a lesbian?”) I can’t tell you how many rentboys I wanted to bring home to live with me. Other than to say every single one.

Since I can’t divorce sex from romance, love and commitment, considering one means considering them all. I’ve done well so far only by ignoring my dick and my heart. Instead I’ve listened to my head and told myself I’m not ready, I can’t be trusted not to become abusive in a relationship and if it’s true love, it will still be there when I’m ready and can be trusted.

Then I go home and jerk off.

Now, suddenly, there’s a new guy in the rooms who’s challenging head, heart and dick. I’m finding it increasingly difficult not to fling myself at him. Fortunately, or not, depending on your viewpoint, he’s in VERY early recovery. I remember how that felt and how I felt when someone tried to 13th Step me. If there’s any relationship potential here, I don’t want to fuck it up. And that’s the only thing holding me back right now.

There’s another new issue on the horizon. A trip. I’m going to New York at the end of the month.

Shortly after the first of the year, Willie sent me a note telling me he and his BF are going to New York over Easter. Since then I’ve wrestled with the idea of meeting them there for a few days.

There are my general anxiety issues. As you may recall, two years ago at this time, I wouldn’t leave the house and I’m still reluctant to leave it. There are the financial issues. A couple of hundred dollars is a really big deal for me, even after spending a few thousand for a new PC. Especially after spending a few thousand for a new PC.

There are my feelings for Willie and doubts about respecting his new relationship (read: staying out of his shorts) and there’s the whole going to the number one terrorism target of the entire country thing.

And I’ve worried over the most ridiculous stuff. Do I have the right clothes and shoes? How will I fit everything into one carryon and my backpack? Why are travel sizes of things so damned expensive? How do you use the subway?

It still took a month to come to a decision after an offer of accommodations from Eddie, (longtime reader and friend, and WTC survivor). But it’s set. I’ll buy my train tickets this week. I’ll catch the morning Empire Service train, arriving in Manhattan’s Penn Station at 12:35 PM on Thursday March 28.

After a long weekend of sightseeing, visiting and clubbing, I’ll return home on Easter Sunday, probably on one of the mid-day Empire Service trains, arriving in Rochester that evening.

I have only a month to train for a marathon night of clubbing that Saturday night/Sunday morning. And I have a whole month to fret over the right clothes and shoes.

Dear heavens!

       

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