Reconstructing Rick

What does a person do with being clean and being alone?  Right about now I would just get high. I mean it’s a sunny day out and because I am clean, I dont have any of my user friends to hang with. This means that when was doing Meth or Coke or even crack, I always had someone to hang with. Mind you, I was alone at times and even when I was alone, all I had to do is do some drugs and then I could relax in front of the TV or computer, completely zoned out. The drugs helped me deal with being by myself.

Being raped by my father for years, the non-stop beatings and additional abuse, had far more damage than just what was happening when it happened. It also meant that I did not excel at anything really in sports or school. It meant that I did not know how to be a normal kid. The end result was the time when I was not being abused, I was like this messed up kid. In those early years when all kids learn to grow up and play with other kids, I didn’t. My friends were kids who were messed up too… not as much as me… but not like the other kids.

My father found many interesting ways to torture me but the ones which hurt the most were the times he betrayed me and embarassed me. Yes, the sexual stuff was incredibly horrible and the beatings and destruction of things I loved was heartless, but the worse part were the things that went much deeper.

So you understand, I want to share with you one of them. I never really like sports so much because I did not understand them and was not physically able to do it. Because of this, I did things that took me away from feeling bad. One day my father was talking about a boxing match that was coming up. He never took me to anything ever. Since he spoke about it several times I thought that maybe, just maybe, he was going to take me. He even asked if I liked boxing and I said I am not sure because I only saw it once. It was violent and I had enough of it in my life. Against all logic and hopes that in some way he would show an act of compassion to me, I somehow got it in my head that he was going to take me.

I bragged about it to everyone I knew. This monster of a person may be taking me to something special. This was it. I knew it. It was the turning point for me and sure enough, I had thoughts that the abuse was over because now he was going to act like a father and not a horrible person. I had hope and for a day or so I started to think about what it would be like NOT to get raped, beaten or and abused.

The night of the boxing match I got home as fast as I could from school and told all my friends I could not go out with them because I was going to the big boxing match. They were jealous and I was proud of it. Finally something in my life was going to go good. I got home and he was there. He had the tickets in his hand. I made sure to be in the room so he could say, “come on let’s go”. Instead, he grabbed for the door and didn’t say anything. I just stood there for a moment. I asked where he was going… thinking he would say “let’s go” and he said he was going to the boxing match with Greg, the boy in the building next to us. He said, “he LIKES sports and wellll you wouldn’t like it… grow up!”.

My heart sank. The light went out in my soul. I watched from my upstairs bedroom window as Greg walked with my father to my fathers car. I watched as they drove away as a few tears rolled down my cheek. I knew then what it feels like to be alone. There is something worse then being alone… it’s knowing that other people DONT want you there with them.

As I got older I did everything I could to please people just so ONE PERSON would make me the first choice, not the last. When it was clear this was not going to happen, drugs made me okay.

Now I am alone again. I don’t know how to make friends. I lost faith in the fact that someone will want me first in their life. Now I’m just living to get thru the days. I wish there was someone out there for me. I’ll be patient. I just be staring out that window waiting. Hopefully one day someone will look up, see me and say, “come on, lets go”.

Right after I wrote the post below I called and finally got a hold of my sponsor. I finally had the courage to ask the question if he didn’t have enough time to sponsor me.

He asked why and I told him that I felt we were not connecting and although I appreciate his friendship, I feel that my needs are such that I need more of his time now. He kind of felt put off and told me that he invites me to stuff but I don’t accept much. He also said it was my decision if I wanted another sponsor. I told him that I appreciate his friendship but I don’t feel that we are making any progress on the steps. I also said that it’s not about fellowship, it’s about recovery and fellowship and I feel I am not working the steps but I am trying. Sadly I feel I am trying all by myself.

At the point he opened the door for me to drop him as a sponsor. The conversation didn’t get heated but it did get tense. I asked him wht he had planned today because I was having a bad day and he said he had plans for a little while but then he was open. He said he could meet before the Monday night meeting. Guess I wanted his time today.

I don’t know. Maybe I expected a sponsor to be someone who you are very close to an can tell anything to and that they would make time for you.

I don’t know if tomorrow I should say goodbye or work it out but I think I’m gonna say goodbye before I meet with him tomorrow. Probably a call to him today. Yes, I will be without a sponsor and I will lose my sponsor family but you know, that’s okay. I seem to be losing everything one by one so why not just add this to it.

I actually checked out CMA meetings becuase maybe that is the path I need to go. Right now I feel on a major down turn. Yes, I know. I’m gonna relapse. I know it. It’s gonna happen. I don’t know who to call. I don’t know what to do. I feel alone.

Yet another call to my mother from someone who I owe amends. This one at 1:15 in the morning.

I am so tired of worring about what my past will cause to me. My life is getting to be hell and I am trying my best to be positive but it is clear that I am losing ground. I tried to call my sponsor but for this last week he has not been available for me.

Yesterday my sister just ripped me apart. Her words hurt very badly. I almost ran and I think with a little soul searching, running may be the option I choose. My mind is just getting a little foggy right now.

A little history here is needed. When I fell apart about 6 months ago, in my daze I sought help from my brother and sister. They put me in a hospital because I was suicidal. I also was coming out of a major drug period and my nerves where totally shot. I needed to go in the hospital. The hospital also was a safe place for me and I needed to feel safe for a little while. One of the agreements at the time was that they could have control over my decisions and money until such time as I was able to have a clear head. At the time it was a good decision because I was not capable of making any decision right.

I caused many people great harm with my addiction. At the time, I didn’t care because I was justifing my behaviour with many excuses. I befriended people, did things so they would trust me and screw them in the process.

This mentality goes back a long time. Decades. I know where it started. When I was being abused as a kid, and helpless, I always thought that I would get back at my father by outwitting him. All I had for survival skills was that somehow I could out-think him and give him payback in time. I accepted that he was abusing me as part of my life but I always hoped that I could make him suffer for what horrors he put me through. In time, I realized he was untouchable so my solution was to make sure he was never part of my life till the day he died. My hope was that he would realize that he lost a son from from he did and my actions would cause him pain from the loss. I was counting in the thought that everyday that went by he would have some sort of fathernal instinct pain. I know… stupid.

It really bites that he died at 69 yrs old because in my head, I wanted him to suffer for many years and when he was extremely old and alone, sitting his in wrecked old body in a nursing home, he would be helpless and frightened and he could not cry out to anyone for help, just like he did to me as a child.

The problem with thinking like this as a child is that this thought of paying back people who hurt you is the same process as you get older. To make matters worse as time goes on, you seek people who will love you, and the only kind of love you know is the love of people that hurt you. The guilt of this type of unhealthly lifestyle is very large and the solution I chose was drugs. My whole life was centered around using in one fashion or another.

I would use great bait to get these abusers to seek me out. Money was the easiest because these types of people like sucking the life out of their victims. If I came to the table with cash or gifts or more, they would find me attractive, start using me and then the sick process of feeling like I am loved while all the while secretly hurting them back begun. The more they hurt me… and they always found a way… the deeper my inner desire to hurt them back ad the more complex the plan.

Sometimes cash was not enough. I developed business skills because these abusers tend to be business owners and more importantly, they seem to abuse more than just me, they abuse other employees too. My sickness can progress because now I think, by hurting them, I am giving payback for many people, not just me.

Wow. That is so messed up and now I am just starting to realize what the hell I have been doing my whole life. The people who I owe amends are also people that have been very bad to me. Only a couple people in my life I owe amends who did not hurt me and those people are not the ones I am scared about. Those people by nature are nice people and I have no shame talking to them about my role in their pain. The ones I am scared about is the abusers who I hurt as part of my disease, but hurt me as well.

My entire life has been filled with this insanity. Now I am scared because the people I have hurt are coming back to hurt me back. Running from them feels good because then I will know they have to deal with it but when they fight as they will, I have to defend my actions. How do you defend your insanity?

In a way, I hope that I have to deal with my stuff legally now. If i get arrested or put in prison it may actually be horrible but I know that if I go through the experience, when I get out, I will have paid fully for my role in this messed up life and I can start fresh. But also I think that even if that happened, when I get out, there will still be years to pay back for my life and it may take every single year. End result, no light at the end of this tunnel and I will have had a horrible life from childhood to death.

That leads me to think that maybe suicide isn’t such a bad option. Also maybe running is a good option. I just don’t think I can express this to a judge who will be understanding of what my life is about and why I did what I did but also I think that yet again, the abuser won and I ended up the victim once more.

So I guess I’m tired. Tired of being scared. Tired of losing everything. Tired of feeling unloved. Tired of feeling like a loser…. which by the way is what my sister called me yesterday…. a bum… a loser. All because I work 60 hours a week for low pay. She thinks I am spineless. What she doesn’t know is this is the first time in my life I am trying not to be that insane person and yes, these guys are abusing me with countless hours of work for the same pay but this time, I have no other agenda but to do a good job for them, even if they are bad people with good personalities.

God help me. I need to get through this period of my life.  I need the serenity to accept the things I cannot change right now and give me the courage to change the things I can.