Quandary and Setting The Next Healthy Goal

Several years ago I was in a conversation with a friend of mine, and I was going through some troubles. I told him something along the lines of, “I just don’t feel right unless I’m struggling with something.” And I meant it.  Sometimes it still applies, as another thing I have noticed with my drinking (and mostly these days it’s the binge drinking I do) is that when things are going bad, I don’t drink as much. Quandary sets in : should I let life be hell so I don’t drink as much, or let myself be completely happy with the way things are going. THAT is when I let down my guard.

“Things are fine! Let’s belly up and talk about how well everything is – Life is good!”, I say and think. I’m actually duping myself, and convince myself that I don’t have a drinking problem.

This little point comes to mind as I’m mulling over goals and what I would like to achieve from here until the end of my days. A trap I will need to be aware of. It may also be a reason why I am terrible at starting the goals I do set, and even being happy with myself and my situation. A curse, I tell ya.

Nonetheless, I have to try. Because it seems my body and mind are weaning themselves of my heavy drinking habits, it’s time to set some new goals to help bring back a healthy happiness to my being. They say in order to make something a habit, you need to do that something for 21 days straight. I’ll start simple and fairly easy to keep my hopes up. Add one good thing and take away one bad thing –

Goal One :  Drink as much pure water as they I should each day (the good) and no more convenience store food (the bad – I commute an hour each way to work, so this happens frequently, it’s way too easy). Day one is good and done already!

Somewhat Disappointing

There has been good and bad to tell of my struggles with drinking too much since I last posted – way back at the end of October…

Yes, my efforts to quit failed pretty quickly, and in one instance (only one!) found myself drunk, maybe even only “half-drunk” compared to the way I used to get. Another time I found myself nearly pulled in to an all-nighter situation.  In both cases, the next few days were still wrought with fatigue, anger, guilt and depression. It’s these feelings that I desperately want to rid my days of, and drinking too much brings them on.

I have still been having a few glasses of beer or a couple of wine when I watch British comedies Saturday nights on public television. Not enough to ruin my next few days, but sure enough, I know my Sunday mornings will be spent a bit more tired than if I hadn’t had those few glasses.

It’s still a little disappointing, and is the reason I have fallen away from writing here, though every now and then I’ll go through my meager little blogroll and find stories of other people’s successes. It’s inspiring, really. Makes me want to better job, but I just don’t follow through. And how can I post about quitting when I haven’t?

Whether or not I can quit is beyond my knowing, but a thing I have noticed is even just thinking about spending a few hours sampling the latest microbrews with my friends gets me tired and irritable. Something is going on with my brain, and hopefully it is helpful.

So there we are. I haven’t abstained, yet my body and brain are giving me clear signals they don’t want to do it anymore. Hopefully the urge and instances will slowly disappear like the brown hairs among all the greys on my head. There is LONG list of other things I would like to abstain from, and healthier, helpful things I would like to incorporate into my life. I’ll be using this space for those journies, also. Here goes…

Take care –

Casey

P.S. I still get out as often as I can to take in the air and landscape, you may have noticed. That’s something I’ll never quit.

A Preacher’s Jab

“Well, we read Last Rites over Father ——, and the next thing you know, he came right out of his coma and was given back to us complete!”

At work, there has been a slow afternoon or two since I’ve been back. And working alone, my mind has been thinking over everything that had happened last week with Dad’s passing. The quote above was given to me by the Catholic priest that read Dad his Last Rites.

That’s just what I need to mull over, Father. Thanks.

As as side note : I know I need to move on, and actually am doing just that, and very well. It’s the downtime that needs to occur fewer and farther between. I wouldn’t have time to turn an uplifting, joyous, religious man’s story into a preacher’s evil jab. My head will work that way…

Good news is – I haven’t thought I should get drunk over it. There is hope for me yet!

I Wish We Still Could, Job

Dogs just know, right?

Man used to know that we were able to talk to animals, before our fall into sin or before we started eating them, depending on your cultural background and the stories you may have grown up with.

Job 12:7-10
“But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or ask the birds of the air, and they will tell you. Speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea tell you. Every one of these knows that the hand of the Lord has done this. The life of every creature and the breath of all people are in God’s hand.” (NCV)

One detail that I have not brought up about the passing of my father, is that the morning after he had his respiratory and cardiac failure, Saturday, I got a confirmation that my dad had passed already. When I let my dogs out to tear around the backyard that morning after, the dog I’ve had for 7 years, Trapper, just stood next to me. He had never failed, until this moment, to go ape-shit about ripping up the path to the backyard. He knew life for me was different, and he told me with his action. I didn’t even have to think for a split second what this meant. Dad was gone.

You will notice that I used the word “confirmation.” I knew already that Dad had passed, I knew it in my heart. Two days later, we were told he was brain dead, and visible evidence was shown that his organs were failing, by the amount of blood that was in his urine. All that was basically left of him was his dying body.

What I have wondered from Trapper, though, is why he decided to tear up the linoleum in my kitchen. I would like that in plain English, please.

I would love to hear others’ opinions on this. And, does anyone doubt that pets meet us again on the other side?

How I Miss The Trees…And The Winds Through Them

I desperately wanted to get out this weekend and get something done that maybe my Dad would have wanted me to do, to help me move on with life. Fishing would have been perfect, as that was his favorite hobby. It’s the truth that I have not been fishing practically all summer, and not once with Dad for probably two years. I was always “busy.” But more likely, I was hungover or dealing with the shame and anger at myself for the things I do and think and say when I get drunk. I was preoccupied in this constantly since last winter for sure, and a majority of the time for the past 2 or 3 years.

As fate would have it, the effects last week have had on my body came to fruition this past weekend. A sinus cold and headache are kicking my ass pretty good, not helped that my eating and sleeping habits were blown up. Yet, I felt I had to try to at least get a short walk through an oak grove done today. Turned out to be the shortest walk I’ve had in a long time. My head is not ready for the chilly fall air. And God, how I miss the trees…

Kind of a perfect storm really. I’m trying to quit getting drunk (3 weeks now, though I have had a few beers without carrying on until I’m drunk) and Dad passing at the same time. My body and mind just don’t know what to think yet, and I was hoping to reflect a bit on it all by spending some time in the woods. Not just yet. I bet I make a full recovery the second I clock in at work tomorrow. Always happens that way…