Sunday, July 20, 2008

The End of the 19th Year

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I am amazed to say that I just crossed a threshold that most alcoholics never do, and at the same time it meant so little to me that I forgot to write about it. My very first blog entry was entitled “The End of the 16th Year” and as I have said far too many times I am sure, that it was nothing more than something to fill up the spaces on my Yahoo 360 page. My Yahoo 360 page which was one of the very first as I was one of the thousand or so “Alpha” testers chosen at random from the messenger listings, and of course I couldn’t wait to play with it. This was July 15, 2005 and it really seems like more than 3 years ago.

Through the fighting I caused by not watching what I put in print {and what the fuck did I know … blog this you idiots} the chat rooms that I hung out in became hell for three days. I didn’t realize that my nickname was in a different color so that EVERYONE knew to click on it so they would see the “new” 360, and curiosity could have killed this cat, were it not for my wonderful ability to poke fun at myself, and bullshit my way out of tight spots. The next thing you new, I was posting a new blog everyday with some “world according to Jeremy” and something else happened. I became popular outside of my own little world, then unpopular, then infamous, then obscure, then almost completely unread. It was a long strange 3 years though.

Along the way my writing did pick me up 3 online writing gigs that pay me money, and help to supplement what was a more dismal life than my stories honestly portrayed every day. Sure almost everything I wrote was true, but it was wrapped in such an amusing and oddly fascinating package that it became hard to tell the actual misery from the feigned misery, the actual happiness from the bright side that was being honored and hardly ever rejoiced in. My 3 online writing gigs realistically put an extra 400 a month in my bank account which is slowly disintegrating as inflation rises, and even this weekend I had finally thrown in the towel and admitted that I just can’t afford to date and feed my kids at the same time. The state says that I can’t stop feeding the kids so my spinsterhood began as of last night, when I had to admit to the woman I had been seeing that I could afford to take her out where she wanted to go, and she decided it was time to find someone that could, and she easily will. This has happened before and if I am stupid enough to allow it, it will happen again. Fortunately the loyalty discount at Adult Bouncer is still within my budget and I can pretend.

This is me, thirty eight years old, nineteen years sober, three kids, three divorces, three extra dependants on top of the kids and a little over 10 years to go before I can claim my own life again, assuming I give up the forty nine years before that and start over again. This had actually been a theme throughout my entire blogging career, and it has only been a theme of my sobriety in the last four, but I never actually think about drinking, which might make me strange regardless of how long I have been away from it. When my second wife ran off with whats-his-name and took the kids away from me, drinking wasn’t an option. Murder, perhaps suicide, definitely revenge were coursing through my veins but drinking never factored in the least, and why should it? Let’s face facts, but even a simpleton can realize that booze doesn’t solve these things. My mind doesn’t work up to the level of simpleton, but it does at the very least understand logic.

Five years ago I managed to get the kids all to myself, and the ex wife has been free to do nothing but create chaos and try to damage them all without the fear of having to pay for any of their upbringing. Boy wasn’t that a fine desert at the end of what had already been a shit sandwich, but I know in my own heart that I did the right thing and sacrifice for them by my own free will. Let’s get real here, but there are plenty of ways to escape from it all, not the least of which would be her love to get the kids, the child support, the welfare and all the other goodies that The People’s Republic of Maine would throw at her for bringing fresh new losers into its state. Bitter? Fuck yeah, but nobody in that state can deny it, and I am still above all of that to sentence my children to pathetic soul death like that. It’s still a choice I have always had regardless of how much “trapped” crying I can do when I lay down alone at night. That’s the whole point of being a martyr is that you don’t get regaled, if at all until many many years after you have died, and by that time who gives a fuck anyway? This is what I do, and it is what I am used to so who cares? As I always say, I am at least used to it, and will not bow down to anything out of desperation again. Well actually we’ll revisit that theory when I am on my death bed and the priest comes to visit, because like most I have a feeling I will bow down to desperation then.

The threshold that I had crossed for those that haven’t figured it out yet {either of you actually} is that I have now been sober the same amount of years that I had been alive previous to the day I got sober. Officially half of my life has been sober, and as I said that is a very rare threshold. It is a testament to the desperation I felt when I quit drinking for I had known the race had been run two years before I could even make it to legal drinking age. I have never {and mind you I am thirty eight} walked into a bar, placed a legal ID on the bar and ordered a drink for myself. I have been sober so long that I had never had a Zima, an Ice Beer, a Mojito {commercial just came on as I was typing}, or even a Sam Adams, as they all were invented after I quit drinking. There was a time many years ago when I would look upon these things with a longing for what I had missed, but have in the last decade realized what a true liar an alcoholic is. Our ability to lie to ourselves with such amazing reason and clarity is what sets us apart, because if I were still drinking, I wouldn’t have even considered touching any of that “fag college luxury drink” if you had given it to me for free. All of them would have told my sickening brain that they wasted space for the things that actually got me drunk like Gin and Vodka and Whiskey if I couldn’t afford the clear stuff.

The most glaring advantage that I have had in all of this was the nearly two years I didn’t drink before I went out again and took a month to finish myself off. I lost the best girlfriend I ever had during that period, gained the second best girlfriend I ever had, who promptly left me in sobriety because she liked her men fucked up and needy and I was starting to grow out of that, lost my entire family {which was necessary as their level of fucked up was no help to anyone trying to straiten out} and stripped every last ounce of humanity out of myself. This made me teachable. In some ways it made me more realistic, and I was able to understand the greatest truth with the easiest of comprehension that has interfered with the recovery of more drunks than anything else in the world. I do thank God for this clarity that had made me understand the great riddle of the sick and suffering alcoholics brain that might inevitably keep them from ever recovering from the disease of alcoholism. I have never once sat and said, “I wish I could just go out and have a couple of beers with everyone else, like a normal person” and that is the God’s honest truth. The reason for this is simple actually and it takes the clarity of mind for me to just acknowledge that I have never and will never want a couple of beers and a good buzz on. I want to drink the entire bar, make an ass out of myself, become violent, and possibly go to jail for the night. LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! The people that don’t put alcohol to their lips with that intention in mind are the fucking weirdoes ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes & Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of Jeremy Crow} Jeremy Crow on Multiply {For Community Types} Blogaholics Anonymous {E-Mail Blogging Group} Itching For Coffee {Community Blog}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

All writings Copyright © 2008


  1. I'm with Spike here. I am very proud of you and even the hubby says that I am lucky to have known you for more than half my life. He doesn't remember you walking down the street singing Christmas carols in July and pissing on people's front lawns tho lol
    I don't even know what to say about what happened last night but fuck her. I could spit nails about the whole thing, so come over and watch the legs out front, Exeter is full right now lol

  2. you have to admit that women make it to 33 years old without having been married for a reason

  3. No that was Joe, and he says to stay away from her too while she is staring at us with venom lol

  4. We'll be here late btw after you get the kids to bed ;-)

  5. Sweetie, bro, the god of your understanding is NOT too busy and that I know for a fact as much as someone like me can. Only three extra bedrooms??? No guest room???

    Or at least a mansion in an area with a decent hotel down the block, eh?

    Just remember, I felt bad cuz I had no coat til I met the dude who had no back.

    love ya,
    mean it,