Jim Trainer

Universal Love&Hate

In alcoholism, Being A Writer, Being An Artist, blogging, getting sober, going for the throat, Jim Trainer, mental health, recovery, sobriety, Writing on August 3, 2015 at 3:39 pm

Sometimes the silence can be like thunder
sometimes I wanna take to the road and plunder
Could you ever be true?  I think of you
and I wonder

I quit drinking in February. But I made the decision to in November. Like a true alcoholic, I tried to drink on, thought my shrink and everybody else was wrong, I could have a drink every night and be fine.  But after a fated 13-hour bus ride from New Orleans in February (and leaving on dubious terms to begin with), I had 4 drinks at the bougie store, effectively doubling my limit in a matter of days.  Of course it was good to see Brother James and to drink a few with him on a rainy day in the Quarter.  But I couldn’t rely on myself to keep it on a leash.  I loved drinking way too much and besides, all it took was a real bummer of an end to my vacation and a stressful journey back to send me over the limit and into my cups.   I had built up announcing that I quit drinking in my mind.  I would let you know ceremoniously and in a big way.  Oh well.  It’s fitting though, I’ve left the party from the backdoor and now I’m gone.

Sobriety hasn’t softened me or made me copacetic and bland.   The truth is I have uncovered a well spring of anger and hatred once I got out of the hole.  I’m done feeling sorry for myself and now I just hum on a steady flow of hate and agitation.  I feel misunderstood by most people which isn’t anything new, I just don’t have an instant remedy for it.  And my work on the spiritual path has paid off.  For example, at brunch this morning, instead of flipping the table over, I restrained myself and sat awhile in my anger.   The folks I was dining with would have to deal with me being uncomfortable, closing my fists and looking around like something feral and mean.  I didn’t have to hide.  Nor did I want to.
So I’m at odds with the world again.  Just like old times.  8 out of every 10 people I meet and interact with every day won’t get me and, now that I’m not drinking, the ones who could at least humor me while engaged in the pastime of consuming alcohol have moved to the outer circle as well.

…my comrades in arms, I bid you farewell… 
-J.Wheeler

Ultimately, my suspicion about vices has proved to be true.  Without a go to, without a release, I have discovered a fount of anger and agitation.  It’s ok I know what to do with it.  I’m still smoking, which makes even less sense.  I meet awkwardness, boredom and the aforementioned hatred with one burning, a cigarette in hand.  I smoke so much sometimes I need to take a couple ibuprofen for the headache I get from the nicotine.  Triple nickels have made it hard to quit.  On the road, when I was smoking Black Spirits or worse, it was easy to envision myself as a non smoker. I couldn’t wait to quit.  But as soon’s we pulled in and unloaded the Boss, I took the van around the corner to the bougie store for a pack of 555s, State Express, my luxurious damage.  This post is meant to clear things up between you and I.  I’m doing well.  Never better.  My hatreds are still burning, strong.  If I haven’t forgiven you I probably never will but an apology is never a bad idea, unless of course I don’t like you, in which case do us both the favor and just ignore me.  I’ll do the same for you. At the party and at the show.  Just fuck right off.  She knows who I’m talking about.  Don’t you worry good Reader, you and I’s solid. Thick as thieves.  I’m gonna need you in the coming days, when I’m at rope’s end without anything to grab ahold of.  I wish I could ascribe to some kind of universal love.  I wish I could take ‘er easy.  But I never have and probably never will.  “Too intense” is their problem.  I am awakening and it’s painful and that’s fine.  If pain is the price then I’ll gladly pay.  I’ll stay true to myself even if it means I’m the bitter Buddha, at the dark end of the guru spectrum, getting my ya-yas out with an inexhaustible work schedule and rock&roll.  You heard me right, it’s time to get the band back together.  It’s been too long.

I’m sick of love, I wish I’d never met you
I’m sick of love, I’m tryin’ to forget you
-Lovesick
, Bob Dylan

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  1. Jim, in younger years you taught me about hate and you lived the NO. So i kNOw hate isn’t poison, but one of the ways you love something bigger. clink clink to the wind in your sails- with a seltzer and lime. jj

    • You get it, Brother. Of course one of my goals with this blog is to tell it, including the prickly and unsavory parts. Anger and hatred are my go-to reaction for what can feel like an excruciating sensitivity at times. I’ll be working on a response now and if I do this right, I’ll be even more unpeeled, more sensitive. Thank you for reading. Means the world to me.

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