We Are Not A Glum Lot

We’ve been there – the after work gathering, with it’s impromptu patio patter, unwinding after a rough day, laughing at each other, gossiping, tossing barbs at those not present, back patting, flirting, telling bad jokes, all the while hoisting, sipping and slurping adult beverages of every colour and shape.  Oh the civility, the pomp, the…

Tongues

I have always been envious of those who could speak different languages. Watching James Bond sweet talk his way into the arms of a dangerous Albanian female double agent or escape immanent doom with silky Slavic words was something that had a mystic allure, a certain panache to it.  Listening to him, or any other person for that…

Pulling The Trigger

I don’t believe in triggers. There.  I said it. I know that there are many people who swear by them, and that the term “trigger” is found in the recovery lexicon.  It’s somewhat ingrained in the collective psyche of those who suffer from alcoholism and with those who work with them.  I have heard the term in…

The Meeting, The Machine, The Crepes

I have a little machine that I carry around with me.  It’s not noticeable, but it beeps and bips and boops inside of me, and feeds me wrong information on a constant basis.   I don’t like it now, but there was a time when I used to oil it, shine it up, tinker with…

Bottles, Blondes, Bombs

War stories. We’ve all got ’em.  We’ve all heard them. There are some stories that describe harrowing and death-defying acts. There are others which are absolutely hilarious. And then there are some that make you hug yourself where you sit and thank God that those things didn’t happen to you.   I have none of…

Hope Is What I Needed

This is a piece I wrote about Step 2 for my old treatment center, Renascent.  It came out today in their weekly e-newsletter. Thanks for reading! I lie in bed, staring at the imaginary blue worms on the walls and listening to what sounds like a ball game on a distant television.  Three sleepless nights…

Don’t Fence Me In

This is something that I often have to tell myself, of myself, for myself. Notice a lot of the ego present in that first sentence?  Actually, it’s all about breaking out of the ego, out of the preconceived notion of myself that I created that in the end imprisons me. Let me back up. I…

AA Bashing

I have to admit I am utterly flummoxed when it comes to why it is AA bashers are so vocal and adamant in their rants. On discussion boards, youtube, internet sites (hello orange papers!)…there are tons of people out there who not only found that AA didn’t work for them, but are pretty damn angry about…