Sunday, September 28, 2008

Gong Me - Stupid 101, or The Folly of Confidence

Last night I missed my bus. The following observations are pertinent:

a) I was at the bus stop on time.
b) The bus came on time.
c) I was awake.
d) I saw the bus.
e) I got up to get on the bus.
f) The bus driver waited for me.
g) I sat back down and missed the bus anyway.

I don't know if this sort of thing happens to other people, but I suspect it's more common than most of us would like to admit. They say the devil is in the details, so here are some details.

This bus route is San Joaquin Regional Transit District's answer to servicing a large area that has significant but sporadic ridership. What they've done to accommodate this area is "split" the route in a "Y" configuration, with with two buses - one starting on an "arm" of the Y, the other starting at the base, passing each other at the junction, with the "base" bus serving the other arm of the Y, then both turning around and reversing roles. A little crazy sounding perhaps, but to the credit of the route "committee" (I'm very sure) it does get the job done with minimal resources.

Noteworthy: I live right next to a convenient stop at the junction (middle) of the Y - the place I normally catch the bus to go toward a) downtown (South) or b) the malls (North). Needless to say, it matters greatly which bus I get on to get where I'm going.

One more pertinent detail and we can move on to my personal idiocy attack.

The route number is 61. Not 61 and... Just 61. So to catch either bus, you catch bus 61. Good thing the buses are modern, and have these wonderful marquis that tell you the route # and where the particular bus is (hypothetically) heading (DTC - downtown center, or Malls). Of course, it's a task of the bus drivers to change the marquis when they turn the bus around at either end of the route.

Now I'm sure you can guess where the fly most often gets into this mechanism - and let me assure you that I've known about this and experienced it multiple times, which is why I decided last night that I really do deserve the title of Official Moron. Don't worry about my self-esteem though, as I don't have the slightest doubt that I share that title on a regular basis with all 4 (or whatever it is now) billion fellow inmates on this dusty muddy space rock.

So last night I'm waiting for the bus going toward the mall (it's the last one for the day, BTW), and right on time, here comes the bus with the sign saying "DTC". These buses often come to this stop (junction of the Y, remember?) very close together in time, so this is (stupid, stupid, stupid) no big worry for me. The only thing I can assume the driver thinks is that I'm a bum just resting on the bench (look at my picture at the bottom of my blog page and vote in comments if you agree or not with the driver - I'm thinking maybe so). BTW, I'm the only person at the stop.

Now since this is the junction of a Y, it's pretty easy to tell (in depressing retrospect) which bus you MISSED - since the one going North (Malls) turns left at the light, and the one going South (DTC) goes straight. This "DTC" bus turned left. Recall that it's the last bus going North.

I must have done it a thousand times before this moment. Ask the driver, ask the driver, ask the driver! Never ASSUME anything. Trusting any human system or intent (including my own) unreservedly is sheer folly. I KNOW this. Now I could say I've finally learned this lesson. Yep, I could say that. I'm very sure it'll stick for at least a couple weeks.

Welcome to my humility zone.

Cheers,
Paul S

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Hearing in the Recovery Zone, Dear Alcohol

About time I subjected you weary blog travelers to a new test of your sensibilities.

As many of you know, I've been in treatment for recovery from alcoholism, and I'm happy to report 38 days clean and sober as of this writing - thanks to several blessings and opportunities; AA, my supportive friends/family/co-workers, and an excellent detox and outpatient group therapy program at St. Joseph's Behavioral Health Center.

I'm currently on short-term disability leave through Sep 29th, expecting to be back at work Sep 30th. I await my (approved) disability check/deposit with bated breath - living on serenity and faith (with some food stockpiled) currently - anticipating the regular pay cycle this Friday, but I'll be checking with HR on Monday. :)

Hot news - as of last Wednesday, I'm sporting a brand new pair of Phonak BTE hearing aids (top end - better be for $5800 - and no, Virgina, I don't have that in pocket change!) These are very clearly (pardon the pun) better than the Siemens I tried a few months ago - and the telecoil feature actually works. I'm experiencing (personal assessment) very close to 95% speech recognition (SR) in ideal situations (directional, low ambient noise) and vastly improved SR in noisy situations. Best I've heard in a long time, and though only time will tell as my base hearing varies, I'm quite happy with these aids currently - and we (audiologist and I) haven't finished "tweaking" them yet (my right is a bit "hot" - that ear tends to distort loud voices - but I'm still getting overall improvement).

I'll close this post with a "term paper" assignment from my outpatient therapy - I'll be reading this on Monday as I get "coined out" of the group...


Dear Alcohol,

It's not easy, but it's time for us to part ways. For 34 years now, you have been like a companion, sheltering me from pain and loneliness when I felt a need to hide from God and my fellows. You waited in the wings through most of my troubled marriage, but like a jealous lover, you burst onto the scene to destroy it. Had I but known the vengeful pain you had in store for me, perhaps I could have resisted your beauty - perhaps not - as you regularly gave me ample warning in our early days. Now, as if waking from a troubled dream, I find I must dismiss you, lest you lead me into oblivion.

We first met when I was only 15, a child struggling to become a man. You had the power to instantly turn a shy, ungainly boy into a confident young man - but even then you charged a bitter tax for your service. The tax soon forgotten, I'd return again and again to you over the years when I wanted to forget the pain of now.

Make no mistake, you are a beauty unmatched - for with a gentle whisper, you can bring the mightiest empire to its knees. Better men than I have, and will, die in your embrace. Today I choose life, and so I must leave you alone. I have changed because you never will - and for that change, I thank you. Perhaps if you weren't there, I'd have never had the desperation to seek treatment, and ultimately growth.

Of all the life challenges I've faced, you were the most insidious. It wasn't until very late in our long relationship that you began to show me your true colors. At first it felt like love, but in the end, I learned your mission was to destroy me utterly - all that I was would be lost, and anything that I might become would be drowned by you.

My first indication that you were plotting my death came in the form of regular and frequent hangovers - much like a cold or flu, but in some ways worse, as my sickness was self-imposed by my "happiness". This cycle went on for years and years. Then a few years ago, I was confronted with you and some of your henchmen (don't deny it, for I was still partly awake) as my now former wife fell (back) into your (and their) arms. The agonizingly slow destruction of a marriage that was never meant to be should have driven me away from you. But you knew from the start that you had captured me years ago, even though I felt free (delusion). All you needed to do was slip your noose gently over my head by allowing me to re-experience the loneliness of my youth - and the false comfort you'd bring me to con me back into your clutches.

And then came the day that my desire for you became need. You would greet me in the early morning on that day, and many days after - in fact, the distinction between early morning and late night became blurred - truly the clock spins in endless circles, and what is an hour? If I didn't pick you up in the morning, noon, evening, anytime, at intervals growing smaller by day, a shaking, jittery sickness would overcome me, and pitifully, I did know just how to cure it - temporarily. For this you didn't judge me - only condemned me without judgment or prejudice, just as you would anyone who tried to control you.

You didn't just beat me up physically either - you missed no opportunity to bring me misery, the better to ensure my demise - even if it were to be at my own hand. You cast me into the pit of depression, a place the most modern medicine could not reach, as your grip is more powerful than the strongest of the doctors' chemistry.

You cast a fog across my brain, making clarity of thinking and decision-making a distant dream. Though we've been apart for many days now, I haven't yet fully recovered my faculties, but with God's grace, I may (though by no means certain).

Bad decision-making fuels bad decisions, and bad decisions fuel broken finances. Today I'm $50,000 in debt, and likely to be bankrupt soon, as a direct result of my belief in you and in my ability to conduct my affairs while wandering aimlessly in your fog.

You caused me to isolate - because, harsh mistress that you are, you refused to share me with anyone at all. You took me from my family, my friends, my co-workers, and worst of all, my Higher Power - the loving God who would have been happy to bring me serenity (as he does now) and a guiding light through and beyond the destruction you engineered.

If there is good to be found in my relationship with you, it is this: My Higher Power was with me, watching over me through the worst trials you created - though I was ignorant and even tried to deny his existence, not to mention his love. I know this now because when I finally cried out to him in pain, he brought friends into my life who would gently push me (some tough love) onto the road to my Recovery. And on this road, I shall stay, moving always forward, even if my steps seem slow and halting at times.

I'll never again believe the lie that you told me about myself - that I'm unlovable, and that I can never know true friendship. Baloney! When I got real and honest with the people around me, and practiced humility, I found love and better friendships than I had ever before dreamed possible. You see, when truth shines its light, darkness is banished.

I found out in time. Your game is up.

Goodbye, dark mistress alcohol.

I think I won't be missing you.