repeat from last year

 

rocks and ramblings

July 13th, 2006

i went for a walk after i watered the lawn. i found some really great rocks that i must retrieve to our yard. i must have them. they need to be here on our little lot of our fair city. i have some grand schemes for the yard after the grass gets going. meanwhile i have my mind to plan and think of all the great ideas on how to create ‘curb appeal’ .

i have always been partial to rocks. i love them. each one as individual as we humans. in fact, i have viewed myself as a rock. strong, yet silent. knowledgeable, yet unobtrusive. i must have been one in a previous life. maybe i was a geologist, i dunno. all i know is that i have collected rocks for as long as i can recall. i could stare at them for hours. i especially like the rocks that have grasses and trees growing from them. something so solid, yet enough of a space to give life to something else. shiny rocks, smooth rocks, sparkling rocks, makes no difference to me because i love them, every one.

i pick up rocks at different places that i have been. they might appear to be just a driveway gravel rock, crushed from something bigger, or it could be a pebble underneath my wet foot as i walk along a beach. it finds it’s way into my pocket and i cart it home. i have teeny tiny gravel (like the kind used in fish tanks) in our bamboo plants. there is at least one wooden salad bowl holding more treasures. i have rocks that have come from special places. i remember each place just by looking at the rock.

presently, i am working on a rock formation in our front yard. just a small oval shape, with some of my special rocks, including the rock that we used as a headstone for my beloved SUZY. she lay buried out at her farm for the last 5 years. when i left there, i asked to bring that rock with me, and the ex said it was alright for me. i have other rocks placed there in the formation; some given to me from friends (they know my love of rocks).

i will accept all gifts of rocks. doesn’t matter if you just picked it off your driveway, or if it was in your garden. maybe it is along the shore of your favorite vacation spot. my big bro D brought me rocks when he came to visit us on christmas 3 years ago. it was great. i have them proudly displayed for all to see. in front of the bamboo plants that are growing ever taller.

next time a rock catches your glance, think of me. enjoy rocks. they are what makes us strong

the sound of glass

July 14th, 2006

maybe you have never noticed it. that sound that is made when one glass bottle touches another. clink. it is quite distinctive. unlike any other sound in the universe. on my breaks today there were many sounds like that. our centre smoking area is next door to the local beer store, and so it makes it sometimes hard for me not to look towards the sound ‘clink’.

this is my third sober summer. that is something i am very proud of. there are times when i don’t think of it any. then there are times like lately that the thoughts of my past are all consuming. it drives me crazy at night. when i get the flashbacks and anxiety attacks. i woke the other night with that familiar taste of beer on my lips. (that is creepy).

with all that has happened in the last few months i am quite relieved that i don’t drink anymore. but, man, there are times when i nice cold beer sounds really, REALLY nice. i have no intention of heading out and getting any. in fact, our home is designated as a dry ship. it is just too hard for me to be around it any i suppose.

i wonder if the anxiety attacks and the headaches are stemming from the evil thoughts and horrid night terrors i have been having lately? i guess we’ll rule out any physical stuff with the blood work that has been ordered for me. i will look after getting that done next monday. my day off.

it is 31C today, but with the humidex it is like 38C. that is frigging hot. i came out on my last break this afternoon at 320p, and it was the same climate outside as though i were in a green house that had just been sprayed. that wet heavy air, i used my ventolin and went back inside to the air conditioned climate. but not before i heard the clinking of bottles, and laughter, loud music, tanned bodies getting ready to head off to a night of partying and drinking.

sounds and smells are my highest memory triggers. i remember in the early times of my drinking adventure, i would just get a few and get the buzz and all was cool. it was just a good time had by all. as time went on and my journey into hell continued, i would be one of those types who would be at the liquor store before it opened, (before i had to get to work, needed it), and be there more than twice more before the day was done. then it was time to nap, sober up, hide the cans and bottles, and make like mrs. farmer’s wife for the rest of the day. i don’t know how much he knew of my drinking and now it doesn’t matter anyway, but in those days it was scarey and traumatic. i hated my life, i hated him, i hated myself. and yet, i looked the best in my life. and now, with a few lot of extra pounds to lose, i feel better than i have about myself in years.

it was a short lived drinking time, but it was intense. 3-4 years worth, but in that short a time, i packed away a good amount. of course, when that is all you do, no time for eating, cutting into the drinking time. i never drank on a full stomach, the oblivion came quicker if hungry, and less likely, at least for me, to receive a hangover. i always stuck to beer. used to drink regular stuff, and then switched to the light beer. moosehead light in the blue cans was my favorite.

that kachish sound that the can opening made, and the little fizz i could hear, that cold, crystal clear liquid passing my lips. i can almost taste it again. and my chest is getting tight.

i have only bits and pieces of memories of the day i had the nervous breakdown, and left home. i know it was september 16, 2001. but that is all i recall. the night terrors bring the memories to me sometimes. i’m not sure what to make of all this. it is terrifying to think that i might pick up the habit again, i so don’t want to.

the weather and the season plays a big role in this for me. summer = fun= the times we used to have. those were good happy times, with some of my best friends. but i was not the person i am now. i am the person i was meant to be. the drinking was my escape and my reason to escape all at the same moment.

*******might be a year later, but some of the same things bug me. weird, eh?