High

Decades ago I worked with this guy named Stephen. Tall, decent looking, ponytail, guitarist... He once told me that he thinks he feels the same way sober that most people feel while high.

I tried to get him to sell me some mushrooms, but we never got around to it.

***

I've got a whole lot of "friends" on here, though some aren't friends at all. Some are gyms or fighters or musicians or whomever.

One of those folks is a bigtime marijuana proponent, in spite of his accomplishments. Drives me nuts when he says stuff in his status like "I'm gonna smoke a bowl." I think I'm going to un-friend him.

***

Not that I never smoked grass. Last time: New Year's Eve, 1986.

***

But I've got a few "last" dates in my sordid history.

My last "last" date was in February of '04.

That's when THEGIRL was born. She's my little sobriety baby.

***

One of my friends has photos up right now, new ones, where she looks like she's doing shots.

Other friends have all of these drinking pictures.

I envy normal folks.

***

Your job, if you know someone in recovery, is to always keep a little disbelief in you. It's the best thing you can do for yourself and the addict you love.

Always, ALWAYS leave room for the possibility that they are not clean. Addicts are terrific liars. It's just part of it. It's self-disclosure. No I couldn't have told you the truth, and I'm hesitant to now even though you caught me red-handed... I couldn't admit how awful this is even to myself, so how could you expect me to admit it to you?

I've begun to realize lately that the longer I'm clean, the harder it is for me to lie. I guess I should be proud of that.

***

Once in a great while I get the question. A sleepy BB bears some resemblance to a stoned BB. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were on something."

Good. I mean... BAD. Bad to be the person who by all rights deserves this. But it's good to be questioned, because it means you care. And it's good that I'm telling the truth. Clean time becomes this precious thing after a while. The idea of blowing it becomes overwhelming.

***

My last drink was August 17, 1995. I stuck to the medicine cabinet for almost 9 years after that to get my thrills.

No one told me that I'd have drinking dreams after I gave up alcohol. No one told me about the dreams in which you casually toss a few back, then wake up with this horrible feeling: Dear God--I've wrecked it all, I've... wait... it was only a dream.

Ever had a dream in which you have some overpowering emotion, and it sticks with you the whole next day? This is also that type of dream.

***

I had that dream Saturday night. In the dream, I had a beer. It was no big deal.

I didn't wake up feeling bad about it. This is not foreshadowing, this is not drama. I just... knew it was a dream. I consider this to be an improvement.

No one can ever say they have this thing licked, okay, but I think I'm about as close as one can get. I just really don't think I could ever do it again.

***

At a Lutheran church many years ago, during communion I grabbed the wine instead of the juice. It was like having a siren go off in my head as soon as I tasted it. I calmly walked straight to the restroom, spat it in the sink, and washed out my mouth.

***

I'm going to be okay.