I hope this e-mail finds you well. I am in London since yesterday morning. This e-mail is full of self-pity and complaint. I am aware of it but I try not to complain to my partner or my friends these days so it is a welcome outlet although I apologize for it.
Yesterday was a difficult day. I noticed alcohol and the absence of drugs for three reasons: it was my partner's birthday (let's call him LLII), British culture seems to be obsessed with getting wasted and when we travel is usually when we would get really self-indulgent. I had ordered two bottles of Veuve Clicquot (my favorite champaign) for our arrival which was fine but I started to feel tempted as LLII was drinking all day. Eventually, we had a guest and LLII asked me to serve them and I felt really weird holding the champaign so I asked him to serve the second drink himself. There was this micro-second were I realized that I could pick up a drink one day if my willpower was weaker than usual. I was feeling tired as I had not slept much in the last few days and on the plane. That would happen before: an ambien topped by a Klonopin would have taken care of my trip and I would have arrived fresh in London. That is also why I am writing you an e-mail at 8:58 in the morning although we went to bed at 2 a.m. At dinner, as I knew the night might be long, I was annoyed I couldn't wake myself up with a drink (by which I mean ten drinks). In the middle of dinner, as we were discussing with our friend, I realized that usually we would be trying very hard to score blow or maybe ecstasy. That is what made our traveling cool: going crazy... not visiting the Tate modern. My partner briefly asked questions about clubs to his friend and I felt guilty he couldn't go because of my "recovery". Also the place was extremely trendy (Hakkasan a very exclusive restaurant full of tall beautiful people) and I felt awkward and out of place... I felt my suit was poorly cut as an example or that we were given a bad table....usually when I get this feeling I get wasted and I start to relax and feel more confident. When we went out after dinner, it was all about drinking...people were drinking in the street, businessmen were wobbling on their way home and trashy drunken girl were elbowing their way in the crowd... although I never liked beer that much it did feel weird ... tired and excluded. It is tough because when I am tired, I am not much fun and can feel depressed. Sober, I felt I wasn't contributing much to the evening. As a general rule, I find myself to be boring these days and have to make a huge effort to be entertaining or take interest in people. There is also this thing that I am constantly wishing I could be doing something else: like going early to bed instead of being in bars or even working. Partying is not very interesting right now but it hasn't been replaced by anything interesting yet.
As for my recovery it is a bit of a disaster. I am naturally lazy. Although I have the Big Book in audiobook, I listened to everything but the Big Book while I was traveling. Actually let me rephrase this, I would rather listen to everything including the "seven habits of effective people).To be honest it bores me and I am not sure I would learn much from what I feel is a self-help book written half a century ago. And the vocabulary... the semantic of AA... really annoys me at time: today 24 hours/day: "Live with God in that secret place of the spirit and you will have the feeling of being on the right road". There is always something better to do than reading about recovery: magazines I haven't read, work that I have not yet started, presentations that I should have done a while ago. What kind of preachy BS is that ? that is exactly why I disliked religion...the infantile patronizing demeaning messages that don't mean anything. Also I did let go of most of the resolutions I had after I left Father Martin's Ashley. I have no willpower and typically give up changes after a few weeks. I drunk slightly caffeinated tea yesterday at dinner (it was an Asian restaurant) although I hadn't drunk anything caffeinated for 80 days. When I asked for a decaffeinated tea the waitress told me about a tea that was "very lightly decaffeinated" I hesitated for 10 seconds and accepted. It would not be a big deal if it wasn't a tiny indent in my discipline. That is usually how I start to f*ck up... starting with something small: that's how I restarted smoking...a tiny puff that became two packs a day in a month or so. That's how I started acting out in the past... starting small and going all the way in a matter of days.
The only things I am kind of proud about (although I read I am not to be proud about anything in my recovery as I owe it to God according to 24 hours/day): meditating every day because I hate it and still do it, bringing my friend to AA, having quit everything (cigarettes, drugs..legal or not, alcohol and coffee) for 81 days, being nicer to LLII and slightly more honest. All of that makes does make me feel much better (yet).
You know as I am writing this, I am thinking that I should make it to a meeting: there is one in Covent Garden at 17:45 p.m. which is only 10 minutes in cab away from my previous appointment in Savile Row and it actually fits more or less my schedule (although I don't expect the person I meet or LLII to be very happy that I take 1 hour of our precious London time for AA) and it will make me feel better.
I drive my motorbike like a madman. It is a beautiful S2R Ducati Monster (750 cc) so like a good fag I see it as my single opportunity to be a maverick as my gay face is hidden by my helmet.
I am also a rude driver. Every morning I skip the line of cars going from Columbia to Connecticut avenue by acting as if I was going to take a right turn and then cutting the line. I flash my lights at people all the time and intentionally frighten pedestrians at crosswalks. Awful !
This morning, I woke up with a terrible cold which decuplates the chances that I will act as amaor fuck. I had to go to my dentist so I dragged myself to my bike ready to annoy my fellow drivers. I was on M. drive(driving fast enough to ensure that if I was to run over a toddler he would not have any chance to survive), when I got stuck behind some type of a volvo break stopped on the left lane of M. Street. I first started honking violently and as the driver made move to pass her by, I got angry and stuck my front wheel in a rear bender. Finally as she would not move, I got off my bike and approached her window in a menacing manner to ask her what the f**ck is her problem.
So the poor old lady (terrified) told me that she was trying to park but couldn't because I had stopped right before her. I did not apologize and went to park a little further. As we were all going in the same building I was terrified she was also going to see my dentist. She probably had cancer too...
My very genuine (albeit belated) efforts in becoming a model employee are thwarted (I am not sure if that word applies here but I’ll try it anyway as I like to showcase my perfect knowledge of the English language) by the fact that I am sick… as in always sick. I had some kind of flu last Thursday and Friday and tonight I have a horrible cold and am all congested which means that I am not going to work tomorrow. My gut feeling is that the savvy cocktail of drugs, booze and cigarettes I was on, was what boosted my immune system and now I am finished. Another possibility is that Obama had a cold and gave it to me when he shook my hand, rather vigorously, at the Human Rights Campaign dinner on Saturday. If at least my poor health would cut my appetite, I would be happy but it looks like if these repeated diseases kill me, they will kill a fat gay man. I eat incredible quantities of food at an amazing pace and am now heavier than Roy which is disconcerting.
My recovery (isn’t it cool that I have my own recovery?) is doing well - thanks for asking - and combines many initiatives at once: meditation (15 minutes in the morning … not a huge success), acupuncture (I have two different acupuncturists who feed me huge amounts of Tibetan medicine), EMDR (some bullshit psychological treatment), therapy (my new therapist is great and only half the cost of my previous one), some yoga (when I am not too weakened by my poor health). I also have a sponsor but have not had the courage to open the Big Book yet. I go to bed early and try not to get too stressed out.
I have had it since 2008. It is indeed quite surprising because if you look at my archives most of my sailing experiences were disastrous but not that one. Today I went sailing by myself for two hours but it was freezing.
Why would this blog have to be happy and irreverent? After all if I am going to AA, it probably means it’s going to be full of self-pity and plain boring at times.
I went to the Human Rights Campaign national dinner last night (and shook Obama’s hand which was cool and kissed a few high power gays) and it dawned on me, while Mika being super cool, that I will never dance ever again. I never danced sober in my life. I was not a big dancer at start but ended up loving it although I could only dance plastered.
I also had a fight with Matoki earlier that day because I stole most of his Achva ( a delicious sesame paste which contains more sugar than sugar itself). I just cannot stop eating even though I am 150 pounds, 9 pounds more than I was 3 months ago and I feel f***ing fat.
So it really sucked yesterday to be a recovering everything!