Chapter 54

April is usually a pretty good month for me.

I have always considered myself an April fool. Almost every year I have played April fool's jokes on my Mom. Every year she says she won't fall for it and every year I have found new and very creative ways to get her.

I have called on 12:05 A.M., I have called at 11:55 P.M.

I get her all the time.

I don't even mess with it this year. The thought of me calling and going with the obvious trick just doesn't sound like the best thing in the world to do this year. I call her instead and actually let her know that I am letting her off the hook.

I was hoping you weren't going to do that this year.

I love you Mom.

Keep it up Steve. We are so proud of you.

Now if I was my Mother I would have thrown in the "April Fools" after this comment just for a laugh. I know they are proud though. I know that it is there, just under the concern, every time I see them.

I can only imagine the worry that they are still going through.

I sit out on the porch and eat my very healthy breakfast and healthy shake and smoke my very unhealthy cigarette and come to the realization that I can't hide anymore. Everyone pretty much knows I am a drug addict and alcoholic. I know that all eyes will be on me for quite some time.

and that's perfectly ok with me.

I am going to be going back to work and I am not looking forward to it. I have a lot of history in many ways there. People will always see me as the party guy. No matter what that will always be with them.

The guy that got loaded at company functions.

I just don't want to be that guy any longer.

I have a feeling that it will be a weird transition but I know, just like everything else, I just have to face it and deal with it.

I have been having more and more using dreams. They suck. Every time it is the same thing. I wake up and I am sweating and I feel like I am waking up from a hangover. I can't tell if I drank or drugged the night before. It is terrifying.

I talk to Jeff about it and he tells me that it is pretty normal for people in recovery to have these dreams for quite some time.

Super.

I don't sleep very well at all. These first months out of rehab have been very challenging. I have actually gotten to the point where I go to the gym at all hours. I go at 2 A.M. I go at 4 A.M. I jog 5 or 6 miles at 4 A.M. just to get out of my own head for a while. There is just such an uncomfortableness about waking up and staring at the ceiling for an hour and having your body tell you that a drink would put you right to sleep. My mind is still trying to kill me.

It hasn't given up the fight that easily.

24 hour fitness is a very interesting place at four in the morning. I was completely shocked to actually find other people in the gym. I want to run up to them and ask them if they are having drug dreams also but for some reason I feel like this isn't such a smart thing to do.

The treadmill and my headphones.

My mind can slow down as my body works through it all.

In the 2 months since I went to rehab I have lost close to twenty pounds. I have been working out everyday. Most days I am in the gym more than once. It is a safe place for me and it is open 24 hours a day. If they had meetings at 4 A.M. I would be there.

Some days my workouts are short. An hour run and I am done. Some days it is an hour run, 45 minutes on the stair machine and then at least an hour lifting weights. Each minute I spend in the gym is a minute I don't have to worry about using drugs or drinking.

I feel like I broke myself down and now I am slowly rebuilding. I am taking back what drugs and alcohol took from me.

My mind.

My body.

My soul.

I am slowly becoming a new man. As I stand in front of one of the million vanity mirrors they have inside 24 hour fitness I look at my own reflection.

I look different. I look alive and not so tired. My eyes have life.

As I curl the weight to my shoulders that man in the mirror smiles ever so slightly back at me.


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My first day back at work.

I walk in the door and am greeted by the security guard. My security badge isn't working so they have to call one of my bosses to let me in.

Walking towards my desk the building seems so big to me right now. I really don't want to be here. I am scared. Really scared. What if these thousand people see me fail. What if I don't stay sober.

What if.

I have to gain some composure before I see everyone. Eyes again are on me as I walk to my desk. My group is a smaller group within the building. It is a good group of people that I really enjoy working with.

They welcome me back with open arms.

I don't really know how to act. I am pretty quiet and just let people know that it is good to be back. Some people want to know what I have been doing and what I have been going through. Others just tell me that I look good and they are happy I am back. I just want to stand on my desk and tell all of them that I have changed. That old guy that they knew wasn't coming back.

My own experience has taught me that talk is really cheap. I just hope that I can start living this new life that is building inside of me. I hope that people can just see that I have changed.

There has been quite a few changes since I've been gone. People aren't too happy about some of the changes but I could care less.

Change is my new middle name.