Tentatively Horizontal (This will be an on-going “column”)
“How I’m Feeling”
In a few days I’ll reach 17 years of sobriety. That’s a long time, but I still have intense memories of how it felt to go through withdrawals, to be addicted, to know the wretched regret of the whole mess. The horrible things I’m going through right now are mnemonic associations brought up by the after-effects of this seizure-induced car wreck I had nearly two weeks ago. I’ve been out of work for two weeks now and it’ll be another week before I go back. They’ve got me on an additional anti-seizure medication plus a steroid to shrink the area giving me trouble. I can’t sleep properly—the steroids make me jumpy—I feel guilt and fear, no matter if it’s “my fault” or not. This whole business is making me feel something like I used to when I would come off a binge.
I feel like I’m letting everybody down.
All I can do is dive into my art—my painting, drawing, guitar-playing. Listen to music. Try to meditate—and more than that—try to maintain a meditative mindset in my activities.
I thought I would take advantage of this situation to get off caffeine (I’m a big green tea drinker), but it didn’t work out. I thought I would make use of the time to re-read John Gardner, but he’s just too depressing and labored. Perhaps some poetry would do the trick. I read some Stanley Burnshaw today that felt right.
When I’m alone I get this terrible alienation and hopelessness sometimes. I thought it was going away and I was returning to my customary blithe industry and self-confidence, but I guess it will take some time. It makes me wonder if a guy like Donald Fagen goes through depression. I’ve been listening to his Sunken Condos album today. What a career he’s had. But, ah, jealousy; that’s another negative emotion for me to wallow in.
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