Tomorrow I will have been alcohol free for 6 months. It feels pretty okay. The sad realization is that I am learning that I have to quit weed too. I don't sleep well on that stuff, and then I'm tired and emotionally detached for a day or two. So that's not working either. When the weekend hits I'm still in the car or the bike on the way out of work, turning up the music loud and singing like I'm going to go get a bunch of drinks, but I don't. Now on the weekends what I really want to do is go for a long run or a long bike ride. Those sort of things do make me feel good, but then family stuff comes up and it goes down the crapper, doesn't happen. Don't get me wrong, "the family stuff" is what I live for. I love my kids. Overall, it's the right thing to be doing, the whole sobriety thing. It's just boring and hard to admit to myself that I don't really enjoy social situations that much when I'm sober. As it turns out, getting together with friends to watch a ballgame and get some beers was mostly about the beers. I only realize that now because I'm not making plans with any friends to do any sober stuff.
This is reading like a guy who's going to start drinking again. I'm not. Cutting off the sauce was the smartest thing I've ever done. I'm in really good shape right now, the lightest I can remember being since I was a kid. And I have more energy, I'm more effective at work, it's all good. It's just hard sometimes when you're so used to having a drink when you're mad, sad, frustrated, lonely, just about any old reason, and now you need to find what it is you need to do to get yourself right. Exercise isn't always enough, so I'm adding in therapy, and right now I'm writing.
My writing is trash since I stopped doing it regularly, but I need to stop worrying about how bad it is and just get some words down.
Let's get back to what I mostly did on this page and that's funny stories.
My oldest son, Erik Noisewater, is now seven and playing his second year of little league baseball. Last season he was one of the two best players on his team. Everyone hit off the tee (the little stand the ball sits on and you just whack at it) so no one struck out, and he was one of the only kids paying enough attention to get people out in the field as well. Fast forward to this season and he is a first grader in a league where many of them are second graders, the kids have to hit a pitch thrown by a coach from the rubber, and he is going 0 for 3 with three strikeouts game-after-game. It's god damn disheartening for a young man. Those whiffs bleed into every other aspect of the game. Suddenly he is in the field picking the dandelions and kicking the dirt while the ball is hit to him. He wasn't one of those kids last season! And the poor kid is stomping back to the dugout after a strikeout throwing his helmet and his bat in disgust.
I was desperate for this kid to get some contact at the plate, so I bought him a bat with a wide-ass barrel thinking it will increase his odds of hitting that ball. After all, most of the time when you hit it you can get on base at this level. The guy at the shop asked what league he plays in and said it technically that bat isn't allowed. To hell with that. Some over zealous umpire or crazed opposing coach is going to have to snatch that bat out of my boy's hands. He's hitting that damn ball. Low and behold he did have a clean whopper single that he drove into the outfield. He was so proud of himself! And he made a putout at shortstop, his favorite position.
Erik and I got talking about his magic illegal bat, and I said it's probably best he doesn't tell anyone that the bat is too wide and against the rules. He said, "Would if we get caught?" I said "Well son, then you and I grab that bat and we drive for the Mexican border." It was so damn goofy to say something like that, and it's the kind of thing I used to say and jot down for the blog years ago. Thought you may enjoy it. Hope you're finding that magic bat equivalent in your life, whatever it may be, even if it's a placebo. Lord knows I'm searching for one too.
