Chapter 37

I have come to the conclusion that I am too much of a addict and alcoholic to want to live but too much of a candy-ass to die.

Stuck in between. Not a fun place to be at all.

It is Christmas time once again and I just want to hibernate through it. Everyone is so cheerful and in the Holiday spirit and I just want to slap them. I want them to feel what I am feeling. The utter hopelessness. The pain.

I know that I want out of this feeling but I don't know where to even begin.

I am lost.

I get phone calls from my parents because they haven't heard from me in a month. They get so worried when I don't talk to them. It isn't that I don't want to talk to them at all. In fact I miss feeling like I was part of the family.

I am just ashamed of myself. I don't feel like I have anything at all to offer anyone.

All I can do lately is sit at home and drink and smoke weed.

The state diversion program had done wonders for me. I was in it for 9 months and I drank all the way through it. I really didn't even give the counselor a chance to reach me. I filled a chair.

All I needed to do was get through it.

The hardest part was not being able to smoke weed. The day I graduated from the program I smoked up a storm. I never let up.

The scary part was having to be in a diversion program for drinking and driving and actually drinking and driving right after I would finish for the week. The class was on a Wednesday night. That means I can't drink on Tuesday.

Well, at least not too much.

After class got out on Wednesday I would stop at the store and get a 40 or two and start drinking during the ride home.

There just comes a point where no matter how hard you try you can't stop. Your own power will never be enough.

Ever.

Your power may get you through a weekend or a month but sooner or later the Devil finds the kink in your armor.

Every time.

***************************************

Christmas comes and goes.

Like always it is great to see my family but it also hurts. My brother and sister both have families of their own. They have kids and are building their own traditions.

I don't have that.

The only tradition I have is the tradition of a morning hangover. I am not so sick that I don't realize how blessed I am to have a family at Christmas. I know that there are those that don't or have so much family angst that the Holidays are hell.

My addictions don't stop the fact that I love my family. It really makes it hard that I love them so much because I mound so much guilt on top of myself because I feel like I let all of them down.

My mind and my addictions will tell me anything to keep me in bondage.

*************************************

The clock strikes midnight.

I am alone in a dark house on New Years Eve. I am alone by choice.

I just don't have the energy to be around people. Especially people that are having a good time. I no longer have the energy to fake it.

I call her.

I make sure the message lets her know how miserable I am. I make sure she knows its her fault.

In my mind I can blame so much of my pain on my failed relationships.

In truth I am just an addict and alcoholic trapped inside a disease that I have no control over.

I drink myself to sleep.

I wake up face down on the kitchen floor.

Chapter 36

The next memory is seeing my Dad.

Sitting next to me is my Dad and he looks very concerned. I can't really imagine what it is like to get a message from your son saying that he is in the emergency room and that the doctors need to stop his heart.

I don't think about things like this.

At all.

The nurse comes in and asks me if there is anything she can get me.

For some reason I start in with the movie quotes from "Fletch".

Yeah I will take a steak sandwich and a steak sandwich. Put it on the Underhill's bill.

It goes way over her head. She actually gets me a steak sandwich and I think that is the greatest thing in the world.

The Doctors can't tell us why my heart did what it did. I know that it was my body's way of saying "enough is enough".

The worst part about it is I don't stop doing what I am doing at all. I am home that night drinking and doing drugs. I don't even question it.

Four days later my heart goes south on me again.

I am in the emergency room once again.

I end up being put on heart meds and blood thinners. The doctors don't want my blood to clot on me and cause a stroke or heart attack. I have to get blood work done quite a bit.

I live in this state of feeling like my heart could just go at any moment.

I am still playing music with my band and we are still playing a ton of shows but we are growing farther and farther apart. I feel completely hopeless. I don't care about a damn thing at all anymore.

Something has to give and It isn't me. I can't stop what I am doing.

No matter how much I hurt I have reached a point that I feel like I deserve the pain. This is my penance. My price.

My fate.

*********************************

We meet at a Shari's restaurant. The whole band for a dinner and a talk. My attitude and my pain has taken its toll on everyone and they think the best thing to do is take a break.

All I hear is "break". As in "Break up".

The thing right now that is my only source of happiness is gone. I went directly from a failed abusive marriage into this band. For the last 3 years of my life I have been doing this. Now I have nothing.

My depression hits a point I never want to see again.

I am tormented inside. I try my best to put a happy front up for the outside world. There is no way I can let people know how much I hurt. I just don't think anyone at all would ever understand.

I come home from work and I sit in front of the TV and I just drink. I sit emotionless for hours on end. I don't want to do anything at all but drink and kill the pain. After a while the drinking and drugs stop killing the pain.

Nothing kills my pain.

Nothing.

Broken and alone I sit in the dark with the gun in my lap. I just cry. I am a wasted life. I am a failure. I have nothing to offer anyone at all. I am an addict and an alcoholic and I hate myself for what I am.

what I have become.

I have never felt true hopelessness before. The moment that you cross over into thinking death would be better than life. Easier to give up than fight. I am afraid to live.

To really live. I am a broken soul filled with so much sin that the guilt weighs down on me every breath I take.

The gun feels hard against my head.

Solid and ungiving.

I am an asshole. A selfish fucking prick. A fucking worthless drug addict who is going to take the easy way out and leave all the wreckage for others to try and figure out.

The why.

Forever the "Why".

The tears flow. I am at the end. One squeeze and its over. The pain ends right now.

Somehow a calm passes through me. A peace. One single thought enters my mind.

The thought of hell eternal.

No chance ever of escaping. I had professed that I believed in God many times in my life. My life did not reflect that belief. Nothing I did reflected that belief. To tell you the truth I don't know what I believed.

Without a single doubt in my mind at the moment I believed that hell was the most real it had ever been.

I could feel the fire.

I don't know how I am going to do it, but I have to give myself a chance.
As I set that gun down I come to the realization that I have to live.

Really live.

Chapter 35

I once again caught her in a lie. A big one.

Once again it involved her "Ex-boyfriend". Each lie cuts me to the core and allows me to sink lower and lower into depression and anger. No matter how badly I have caught her in this lie she still won't admit it. She makes me feel like I am the crazy one.

I question myself. I think that I might be losing my mind. I start shutting off everyone around me. I drink with a vengeance.

Spite is my new best friend.

I can't shake the pain of the heartbreak. She knows what I went through with my ex-wife. She knows how hard it was for me to trust her. I can't understand how she could lie to me. She says she isn't.

I don't know what to believe anymore.

It is an everyday struggle. I show up to work so hungover everyday. There are so many times that I have to go to the bathroom and throw up.

I sit at my desk and people can feel the anger coming from me. I go outside for breaks and smoke pot and go to the liquor store across the street and buy small bottles of Jack. I am a mess.

A complete and total mess.

My body decides it has had enough and tries to fight back. My body tries to get my attention the only it way it can.

I don't even know what to say to the client I have on the phone.

Oh my God. I have to hang up. I think I am having a heart attack.

My heart felt like it was trying to jump out of my chest. My pulse races and then feels like it just stops. At times my heart feels like it isn't beating at all and then it races like it is trying to make up for the lost beats.

I thought this was it. I thought it was a heart attack. A heart attack before my 30th birthday.

I went to my manager and told her I needed to go to the emergency room and she looked at me like I was crazy.

My heart is coming out of my chest.

Let me call the paramedics.

Working in a call center I have seen the paramedics come. At least once a month they show up to cart out one of the "heavier set" employees who has become short of breath. There is no way in hell I am getting wheeled out of this joint. I tell them I am driving myself.

They try and stop me to no avail.

The drive to the emergency room is horrid. I am reaching a severe state of panic which isn't making my heart any better at all. I don't even know what to say when I get there.

I think my heart is giving out.

They check my heart rate and sure enough it is all over the map. It races then it dies. It is completely out of rhythm. They put me in a room by myself. I am terrified. I don't know what is going on and all I can think is I want my Mom.

I want my Mom.

The female doctor comes in and she sits down next to me. I have no idea what to expect. What she tells me makes tears fall almost instantaneously.

We are going to have to stop your heart and try and get it back on track.

What the fuck?

I need a phone.

I call everyone and I can't get a hold of anyone at all. I am terrified and I am alone.

They are going to hook me up to a defibleration machine and shock my heart into submission. Stop it and then get it going again. The doctor informs me this is the only way to get it back on track. She assures me that it is all going to be alright.

I call work and tell them I won't be coming back today.

Chapter 34

Cozmo and I meet up in the lobby for our morning workout. It sucks to have to get up so early but it's the only way to get exercise in. It is also one of the only ways to escape the walls of the facility.

We walk down the street in a big group. It feels a lot like a grade school field trip.

The rehab facility is located right in the middle of a college town. Right in the middle of the University district. There are apartments that house students all around the center. At night in the courtyard you can hear them partying.

I always wonder how many of them might end up here.

The morning walks to the YMCA are always a bit brisk. I have gotten into the habit of picking of trash along the way. It is just something that I feel like I should start doing. It is like my good deed for the day.

I am really trying to force myself to start being of service.

any way that I can.

There are a few choices at the YMCA. We play a good pick up game of hoops on most days. There is a full weight room and swimming pool. There is also racquet ball. When we aren't playing hoops I am lifting weights. Something about the weights makes me burn a lot of the tension I have.

Cozmo and I are competitive boys.

We play serious trash talk hoops. I love it. He is an athlete. Quarterback.

He is gifted like that.

He and I have become the best of friends. We hang together all the time and we talk things out. We talk about what is going on inside of our heads. The other guy that hangs with us is a kid named Curtis. He is 19 years old and the nicest kid in the world. Cozmo and I big brother him. I think it is great that he is getting on with this so young. I only wish that I had done so and not gone through another 10 years of hell.

Nothing I can do about that now.

Curtis plays hoops with us everyday also. He comes from a small town and all of his friends drink and do meth. All of them. I just keep thinking that he is going to have a hard time staying away from that when he gets out. Tough to run away when you come from a small town.

After our game we head back to get breakfast.

We are going to have visitors today.

Most of us are pretty anxious.

********************************************

My brother showed up on time which is amazing for him. That actually meant the world to me because it showed how much he really wanted to see me.

He walked in the door and I could see that he wasn't going to be able to hold back any emotion at all. He was already in tears.

I can only imagine how hard it is for my family to see me like this.

In rehab for drug and alcohol addiction.

My brother gave me a hug and we cried for a bit.

Tears always seem to flow within these walls. They fall without hesitation and judgment. Most are tears that haven't had the chance to fall elsewhere.

I'm proud of you

I understand what he means but it is a hard phrase to hear when you are in rehab. Tough to feel like you deserve praise.

I show my brother around. It isn't the greatest tourist attraction in the world but it does give him an idea of what I do every day.

He lets me know that my pillow is out in the car.

I couldn't be happier.

*******************************************

I can tell from Cozmo's body language that he is pissed off that some people are asking for his Dad's autograph.

Damn, let them have some family time. This is hard enough as it is.

His Mom and Dad have both come and it is a pleasure to meet them. His Mom gives me a very warm hug and I just think she is the greatest woman. His Dad is a great guy also and is taking the autographs and stares in stride.

I can't imagine that this is the most comfortable situation in the world for any of them.

I just put my arm around Byrce and tell him its cool.

Fuck, I wish they would just leave it alone. It's rehab man, not autograph time.

Take it in stride. You forget we are in a land of sick people.

I wink at him.

Ain't that the truth.

**************************************************

My brother came back from his car with my pillow. I was so happy.

I can't wait to go sleep tonight.

He also brought me a big picture that my nephew had drawn for me. They of course didn't tell him where I was. I am thankful for that.

In time he and I will have a talk.

The picture is of his family. Dad, Mom and two sisters.

Giant headed stick figures that only a 4 year old can draw.

Then I see the two figures holding hands.

One little one and one big one. Under them are our names.

My little angel. My precious nephew. I can think that if there is only one reason to stay clean and sober in the world, it would be him.

I am his Uncle.

I just sit and stare at drawing in silence.

My brother puts his arm around me and I try not to get any tears on my nephews masterpiece.

*************************************

All of us meet for lunch. We sit and eat and talk about safe subjects.

None of the visitors really knows what to ask or how to act. It can be a little uncomfortable. It is an amazing dynamic in the dining hall because of the visitors. There are husbands and wives, Mom and Dads, sons and daughters and also people eating alone with no visitors at all.

You can read the tension on faces. You can feel the anger on others. You can see the hurt and see the questions and fear.

Does it all end here.

Finally.

Is the hell finally over?

I see Adam with his two kids. They are so sweet. He is just holding his boy and he looks really happy. It is good to see.

After lunch we hit the courtyard.

Cozmo elbows me.

Check it out.

He nods his head in the direction of a very good looking lady. Standing with her is the guy with the one flew over the cuckoos nest scar. It is his wife.

Who woulda thunk it.

How in the hell did he do that?

We just laugh.

When you get packages at rehab they announce your first name and last initial over the loudspeaker. Cozmo's name gets called as we are all standing around.

He walks to the front desk where John works. There is a ton of people in the lobby checking in still.

When you get packages they have to look through them to make sure people aren't sending you drugs or anything that you aren't allowed to have.

With Cozmo standing right there, John opens the care package.

The package is from a girl.

The first item is a teddy bear. How precious. I am giving him shit for this for sure. The next is a bunch of pictures.

John reaches in and pulls out a bundle of cloth.

What do we have here?

As he opens up his find his eyes get huge behind his glasses.

I swear that they actually fogged up a little.

A pair of women's underwear. A nice pair of thong underwear held up just long enough for all to see.

The reality of what he was actually holding hit John and he shoved them back in the box and gave it to Cozmo.

Everything looks ok there.

Both of them are bright red.

Cozmo tries to get this package back to his room as fast as he can.

I follow close behind him laughing my ass off.

HEY BRYCE, WHATCHA GOT IN THE BOX? WHAT'S IN THERE?? HEY DID YOU SHOW YOUR MOM WHAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND SENT YOU?

I berate him all the way through the courtyard.

A courtyard full of family.

Through his laughter I hear him say,

I hate you.

Chapter 33

I am going nuts Cozmo!

We are playing our tenth game of cribbage and he finally has the hang of the game.

Why you nuts?

Because man, this is the longest period of time I haven't played my guitar in probably ten years. It is killing me. I can't believe they wouldn't let me bring it into rehab.

Yeah. That sucks.

We continue to play. Tomorrow is a visiting day and my big brother is coming to visit me. I talked to him briefly when I was first out of detox but I was in that Librium haze and don't remember most of it. All I know is that he is bringing me a big, soft pillow. My Mom asked me if there was anything that I needed and all I could think about was a big, soft pillow.

One comfortable nights sleep.

No nightmares. No tears. No waking up ten times.

A big, soft pillow.

***********************************************

I sit up in my room and listen to Hawaii Eric snore.

I have been trying to write songs without my guitar and it has been a challenge. I have taken the bar that the clothes hang on out of the closet and it is now my "air guitar". It gives me a way to envision what a song might feel like.

The shapes of my left hand against the wood bar trigger auditory memories in my head. I have heard the sounds of each string long enough to be able to "hear" the guitar in my head. I play every night.

I have been working on a song for a few nights now.

I call it "Tired of Getting High"

I sit and strum my imaginary guitar and write the melody in my head.

I'm so tired of getting high
and always coming down
so many places I have looked
and yet have never found
I've never found what it is I need
to bring me from despair
now I open up my eyes
and I see that You are there

Very mellow and melodic. A soft confessional. I can hear the guitar part and I can feel the melody forming in my head. I can get lost in the music of my mind. All of it just takes me away. I imagine a bigger, fuller sound...

Oh I've stoned myself to death
and I've drowned myself in sin
but Lord having You around
makes me as high

High as I have been

What I would give right now to have my guitar. Have my band again. Start over with them and do it right. Put God first and really play for Him. I know that is a long ways off. I am not even twenty days clean and sober.

I am in rehab strumming part of a closet.

I'm so tired of waking up
in this pile of past mistakes
always waking up to what I've lost
from blindly tempting fate
all I want is to see a smile
to feel a heart touching mine
to make amends within myself
how could I have been so blind

Chapter 32

Reality sets in when you find yourself in a Police station.

I have to take a breathalyzer. We have definitely established that I am drunk. In fact there is no question in my mind and I am sure there is none in the arresting officers mind how this test is going to turn out.

I haven't had a drink now in probably 2 hours.

I blow twice the legal limit.

I am sure I was in the .20 range when I was behind the wheel.

Seeing this I just start crying.

I tell the cop how sorry I am. I can only imagine how many times he has heard this before. I am no longer in any mood to joke around.

I don't have to spend the night in jail.

I am allowed to take a cab home. I stumble into my kitchen when I get home and hope that I have beer in the fridge.

********************************************

How do you plead?

Guilty your Honor.

The judge says that they will give me one chance to complete a diversion program. My License is going to be suspended for a full year.

I am happy to take that sentence.

I need to be able to drive so I get a hardship permit. This basically allows me to drive a set path to and from work and to and from my diversion program. I can drive once a week to get groceries and that's it.

If I get pulled over any other time I am screwed.

********************************************

Diversion is an interesting program.

You are required to go to AA meetings every week. You check in every week before your diversion group and they will tell you if they are going to give you a UA or not. You aren't allowed to drink or use drugs for a year.

I can't fail a UA. This isn't like a scheduled UA you take for a job. You know when you take these so you can do the necessary "studying" so can pass. I am amazed at how easy it is to pass a UA when you know when you are getting it.

A surprise urinalysis can ruin your day.

Everyone that is in the diversion program has been caught drinking and driving. Every single one of them, including myself will say that they are not alcoholics. It is seriously one big joke.

I drink every day except the day before diversion. Alcohol doesn't stay in your system long enough to be positive in a UA. On the first day of diversion they tested me to see where all my other levels were. My every day pot smoking had left me with plenty of THC in my system. They advised me that it better be decreased the next test or I was going back to the judge.

Going back to a judge with a failed diversion is not a good thing.

I hate diversion. I hate going to it. I sign my sheet every week that says I have attended my mandatory AA meeting.

I lie every week.

I don't go to one.

I don't think anyone does.

I am still convinced that I might be able to control my drinking. I have tried so many times to stop but I just got a DUI and that HAS to make me change my ways.

It has to.

Doesn't it?

Chapter 31

There was one guy at work who saw the good in me. He was the head of the home equity department and he liked me. When others thought that I was a little too obnoxious he saw the personality.

He gave me a shot and promoted me. He put me in his equity relations group and my income tripled. I worked hard for him because he gave me the chance. I loved the new job and I loved the new paycheck.

I had forgiven Krista for the Mexico lie and we were again talking and emailing and planning visits. In my heart I could feel that there was something wrong but I was so in love with her that it really didn't matter.

It is always the people that we love that hurt us the most.

I began my love affair with pain medication. I had been diagnosed with arthritis. It started a few years earlier but I really didn't take notice or visit a doctor until my fingers started swelling. By the time I actually went in to the doctor I could barely move the thumb on my left hand.

I started taking Methotrexate for the arthritis and it worked but only marginally. The swelling started in my feet also and made me pretty uncomfortable for a while.

God punishes I would laugh to myself.

The good thing for me was the pain meds for the arthritis. I would take them at work all the time and not feel so guilty for it.

After all, they WERE a prescription.

************************************


We were downtown celebrating a birthday for the new office assistant. The new "Fax Bitch". We couldn't actually use that name anymore because it was a female and that just wouldn't be as funny anymore.

We all went to see a DJ spin and enjoy some dancing. I did my usual bartender trick. At the start of the evening I would order my tall jack and coke and tell him/her to "lean into it". I would pay for the first drink with a twenty and tell them to keep the change but remember me.

Every drink after that would always be leaned into, more jack and less coke.

Perfect.

We all got hammered. We danced and we drank and we drank some more. I got cut off which is a very rare occasion. This pissed me off beyond belief. I hate getting cut off.

Who are YOU to tell me how much I can or cannot drink.

The group kept me under control which was a good thing but it didn't stop me from wanting to leave. They didn't want me to drive so they kept me dancing for an hour or so longer.

After an hour I just left.

**************************************

I don't know how long he had been following me with his lights on.

I can't really remember it very well. I was on the other side of town though and I had no idea why. I was going home which was on the same side of the river as the club and only about a five or ten minute drive.

I hate when I can't remember how I got where I was.

I didn't roll my window down more than an inch. When the cop walked up to my window I was already in my glove compartment looking for my proof of insurance. I couldn't for the life of me read anything. I couldn't focus.

You been drinking tonight.

The flashlight is directly in my face and I can't stand it.

Why are your eyes so red?

I look into the mirror.

Empty.

My eyes were empty.

Blood red and empty.

I know that there isn't a chance in hell that I am getting out of this one.

Step out of the car.

I try and step out and am very thankful that the side of the Jeep breaks my fall.

Handcuffs.

again with the handcuffs.

Chapter 30

I didn't make much money as the "Fax Bitch". I really didn't care at that point in my life. The great thing about the job was it wasn't difficult at all and it gave me a chance to continually promote my band "I Am".

We were playing all the time and we had a pretty decent fan base. We had a tremendous amount of original material and we loved to play. If given the chance we would play hours on end.

For a "Christian" band we rocked pretty hard. The music was dark and moody. The lyrics spoke from a heart very much in pain. I had turned the band into my own personal journey.

I made it about "me".

How can I follow in your footsteps
will you teach me to be free?
How can I be the one to make amends
and not ignore you as you bleed?
Every day I drink my pains fill
and every night I'm losing sleep
Empty bottles of depression
reminding me of what I reap

Pages and pages of lyrics that scream out in pain yet I can't talk about it. I write to release and I sing to release but I can't share my pain with my band mates, my best friends, because I feel like they won't understand.

I don't want to let them down.

I write lyrics daily. I write about this pain that I can't cure. We put the pain to music. We put the searching to music.

I start drinking before shows. I start smoking weed before shows.

I don't even think twice about the other guys in the band.

it is all about me.

The one with the microphone.

There are times when all of us are as close as brothers. They are amazing guys that love on me so much. They help me get through the pain of the divorce but only as much as I let them. Part of me is kept locked away.

The fear. The emptiness.

I want to stop drinking and I want to stop doing drugs but I can't. I can't stop no matter how hard I try, no matter what lyrics I write, no matter how much I know I am going against God's will in my life.

Through all of it I keep going back to what I think makes me happy.

Krista.


**********************************************

We record a great album.

The CD is called "The Light and the Dark". I think it really speaks volumes about where I am at in life. I know that God is calling me but I am stuck in the darkness of addiction.

The recording process was awesome. We were in the studio for hours on end. We were complete perfectionists and so was our producer/Engineer John. He was a complete Floyd-head also and loved the fact we mixed so much mood in our music.

It was a beautiful time for the band. It is so exciting creating music. It is one of the only things in life that has ever really made me happy.

Lost inside the music. Shut the world out.

We create a 70+ minute CD with 13 songs. The CD is more dark than light. The song titles speak for themselves.

Feel Alone. Nobody's Touch. Pain Inside. Forever Waiting. When Will I.

All of these songs just are filled with searching but they have no resolve. I want to find the answer to all my pain.

I know the answer.

I do.

I just don't feel like I am worthy of God's love.

After all, I am the guy that is getting high and trying to talk to people about how wonderful He is.