Monday, January 4, 2016

January 4, 2016



I think making mistakes is probably one of my favorite things to do.  When I do this, I (hopefully) learn something in a profound way and there is nothing I like better than a good, hard, profound kick in the ass.  Am I going to change the way I feel?  Doubt it.  Do I try to please other people?  Not unless it’s their birthday or a similar event, and then only briefly.  I learned long ago that I am in this game alone: there are loved ones who will support me along the way for varying amounts of time, but this is my book and I get to write it.  However, in life, as we age gracefully, we learn about a thing called compromise and now I have been taught an incredible lesson about how to combine compromise with my passion in helping others.  I am a therapist – I should not take sides on subjective topics, rather I must attempt to alleviate difficult circumstances for individuals and families by facilitating self-discovery in  solutions which blend with their ideals and lifestyles.   In working as a therapist I must learn to keep my opinion on sensitive topics to myself, for fear of harming the client (one of the most important aspects in therapy is joining with the client so they trust their therapist enough to work through difficult issues).  As I was sharing with Ruth this evening, differences in religion and politics divide people – it is my job to help people come together.   I am going to do my damnedest to stay out of such topics and instead I will focus on music or writing or art: things which bring people together and help them to temporarily forget the reality which is so divisive and cruel.  I also won’t mention anything about the Dallas Cowboys (joking – I stopped with football when I moved to CA)  Baseball, however, is fair game (even year next season).

Juvenile Hall this morning – wonderful.  I truly enjoy that population. I’m back Wednesday through Friday.

I am so behind of computer lessons at work (A new system) – all which were due by January 1st -  while I stuck my head in the proverbial sand.  It has not disappeared.  


Someone contacted me – a friend who knows I’m in recovery, and asked for help.  So I gave it, to the best of my ability.  I remember that horrible dark road and it is a journey I never wish to relive.  I counted my days of sobriety this evening:  1st time 56 (it took 2 years to get back); 2nd time 1,447 (it took 7 years to get back) and today I have 4,101 days sober.  I have poor math skills, but by my calculations it would take me a hell of a long time to make it back, if I ever did.

I’m still awfully dizzy.  I wonder if I’d be put on the DEAs watch list if I purchased another box of Sudafed?

Picture:  Into the Darkness

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