turnstile

I have or have been:
turned off
turned on
turned away
turned over

turned around
turned in
turned out
turned inside out
turned upside down

turned left
turned right
turned green
turned red

turned eggs
turned tricks

turned straight
turned gay

turned vegetarian
turned unitarian
turned christian
turned nondenominational
turned to stone

turned democrat
turned liberal
turned sober
turned a new page
turned over a new leaf
and
turned the channel

some of these turning points were welcomed
some were not
some were my choice
some were not
some were happy
some...not so much

but...the most pivotal, to date, turn of events, rock my world,
thought provoking,
set my moral compass in motion was...

turning 50

a season
a decade
a half century
wow
how blessed am i

because i have a song reference for just about
every situation, moment, conversation, etc.
i quote my most favorite of all songs
a song that reminds me of a time when i was young
-40 years young
and my sister would echo the words coming
from the radio, the music, and i would be still in the melodic sound,
the harmony, her voice, as this would play

From the Book of Ecclesiastes and The Byrds:

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

i am a turnstile

What the Hulk Must Feel Like

I've become cautious with my writing
Concerned about the masses
Concerned that I might disrespect someone
Like I'm that important

My life is changing...again
One more crutch tossed aside
Not tossed too far though
Just aside
Just out of reach
Toying with me
Like it's a game
A dual between my mind and a pack of cigarettes
Crazy
Making me crazy

They say if you think you're crazy, most likely you are not
Crazy people don't know they are crazy
That's a good thing because I think I'm totally nuts lately!

Like the beginning of the end of my drinking I needed to adjust how I went about my daily activities
I needed to avoid the "triggers," which meant I needed to avoid everything and everyone!
No, that was not going to work
I planned my smoking, by the number, as if my life depended on it
Intertwined and on my mind 24/7
And now I was about to abruptly stop the only way i knew to function and go it alone,
cold turkey
what the fuck was I thinking.

When I finally quit, just over three months ago, it felt euphoric
I was so, sooo happy and proud of myself
I shouted it to world!  Ok, I shouted it mostly to my Mom.
(She is always extremely happy and supportive when I quit doing bad things to myself.  At least, she seems to be)

Yes!  I put down the smokes!  Yay, me!
I Cut off the 1000 lb ball of chain
Killed my slave master
Joined the ranks of the health conscious freaks (of which I lovingly referred to them in my addictions)

But, in order to stay quit, I knew I needed to do one thing...

Find a replacement addiction

Running

Run, run, run, run,
Off to the store I went to buy some new kicks, new duds,
find my mp3 player and start running

a mile, then two, then 3, etc

My euphoria lasted about 3 weeks (even though I kept running and still do)
the excitement turned into depression, anxiety, edginess,
it was hard to be in my own skin
I imagined what it might have felt like when Bruce Banner turned into the Hulk

i'd finish a long run and be so happy that i just wanted to reward myself...with a cigarette
light that shit right up
take a deep drag and let the burn of the smoke crossing my throat and
down into my lungs praise my accomplishment
bringing me that calm that had been missing in the last weeks.

"no," i told myself and continued to tell myself
and with every "no" i continued to become more and more frustrated as the days went on

run some more, was the answer
I started signing up for every 5k run i could find on the weekends
run some more
avoid cleaning the house, doing laundry, cooking meals,
seeing your family
avoid it all and just run
run until the ache of wanting is gone
run until the desire to harm myself is no longer a feeling but just a distant thought
that i can control, turn on and off like a light switch
run until you're so tired that all you want to do is sleep
pass the days
add time to the calendar marking each day that i left that dreadful, disgusting habit behind

run

and so i did

i ran from everything and everybody --- 


3 months later


people miss me that i avoided, intentionally and unintentionally
i miss me
i'm tired of being tired
i'm tired of being frustrated and angry

they say it's 6 months of hell until you feel normal again
(i'm not sure what normal is since i've been an addict my entire life, giving up one bad thing at a time)
I've got 3 more to go

so, to those i have offended, hurt, avoided, etc., please know how sorry i am
please know that i am doing this to better myself
please know this is harder than when i quit drinking
please know that i have to change in order to move on and
do some things that i have always wanted to do
please know that as long as i am physically able
i will keep running, because it's what makes me happy

however, i will try to find some balance between running and life

i'm turning 50 next month
i've raised my kids
grown my career
seen some very hard times
been through some very hard struggles
it's my time


eventually the hulk will be silenced

I am an Addict

Tick, tock, minute by minute, second by second,
hours in a day.  A day in a week and a week in a month,
and so on. And so on.  And so on I go.  On I go. Go.

Keep going. Don't give up.  Push through the seconds,
and the minutes, and the hours, and the days, and the weeks,
and on and on.

The world moves so fast, a blur; yet I feel like I'm crawling.

Breathe.  Why is it so hard to breath? Unclench. Unclench my jaw, my shoulders, my stomach...my hands. My sweating hands. My warm sweating hands that feel cold to the touch of my burning face, relieved only by intermittent waves of cool, tingly breezes dancing across my skin from head to toe.

Is it time to sleep yet?  Sleep will help me breath.  I won't think about
breathing because my body automatically knows how when I'm sleeping, right?  Why have I forgotten how?  Let go.

Let go and let my body do what it already knows how.  Let go of the control. I am in control of nothing anyway.  Nothing except whether or not I reach, grab, place, consume that bit of once wondrous magic that now turns to poison the minute it mixes with my blood.  That poison that so long ago was my gateway out of social hell.  My savior.  My salvation from shyness, from ugliness, from humiliation, from being less than.  It gave me strength and courage to be all that I lacked, to join the illusion, the chain of networks that measure us and rate us and draw from their own experiences and try to make them ours.

Pacing, voices, loneliness, purging, crying, bargaining, praying, begging, screaming, accepting.

Yes, I'll sleep.  If I can stop the thoughts of wanting.  Wanting more.  More is never enough.

Morning.

Wake up and re-live the nightmare.  Do it again.
Do it until the poison is out of the blood.
Do it until I can breath again without thinking about it.
Do it until the shaking and sweats go away.
Because they will. I know they will.  They say they will and I believe.  I can no longer trust the illusion.

And when they do, when my body stops retaliating for not giving it what I said was good for so many years,  and I am calm and there is peace and the cravings stop, what residuals will I find from all this hard work known as "detox?"..

Life

Unveiled, Uncensored, Raw and Real.
In my face and mine to decide how to react to it because for so many years the poison did all the reacting for me.

Enough
I had enough and am tired of living in the mist of a fog laden and a no-way-there's-a-happy ending fairytale.
Enough
I never have to do this again.

Tick, tock, second by second, minute by minute, hours in a day,
a day in a week and a week in a month and then...

Happy Anniversary.  Breathe.