Day 166: Happy Birthday for Two

It’s been a day filled with reflection for me. You see, it was one year ago today that I packed “N’s” bags into the back of our station wagon and then drove her out to Serenity Knolls. In the end she would stay there for two months of treatment. It’s simply hard for me to believe that it’s been a year since that day. After going through the whole check-in process, and after writing a huge check for the first month’s stay, we were led back to the main foyer where “N” looked me in the eyes, kissed me, and then gave me a warm and loving goodbye hug. Little did I know then that was the beginning of the end of our marriage, relationship, and friendship that had spanned some thirteen years. On that day in December, I had no idea that my life would begin to return to normal (whatever that is), but it did. As I left the rehab facility that day, a deep and dark feeling of failure came over me. I felt like I had failed my wife. As her husband I felt that I should have been able to help her on my own. I know now of course that I hadn’t failed her in that way, but I did fail myself by letting my world become so focused on her. In the end, I couldn’t even recognize myself. I could barely even remember what it was like to be me. In retrospect it’s truly amazing.

On that day I made the long drive home to my dogs, Tugboat and Fifi, and then I basically broke down. It was a very, very dark moment for me. I had never felt so depressed, so alone, and like such an absolute failure ever before in my life. That night I began to keep a journal that I had hoped to someday share with “N.” Alas that day will now never come. Here’s an excerpt from what I wrote that night. It’s the intro, and the end, with the middle removed: December 1st 2008 "I dropped “N” off today. It was one of the darkest days of my life. I feel like I have failed her, and to a certain degree I feel like a contributed to her illness…. …One last thing, Yoda asked me today, "Who is the person that you're closest to in your life?" The answer was simple, “N” (I drew a heart next to her name before finishing the journal entry)."

From that day forward I turned to my in-laws for even more support than they’d already been giving me, and they were there for me. I slowly began to turn to my closest friends so that I could lean on them too. Gradually I began to open up, and no longer hide, or even lie about what my life had become by living with an alcoholic. It was and is a slow process to return myself to health. I had been telling myself for weeks that as soon as “N” went into rehab, that I would begin my own return to health. It was during one of those first few days that I hit a personal rock bottom. I was clearly suffering from situational depression. I was overweight, and frankly, I was overcome with the grief from years and years of one death after another in my family. I lost three of the five animals pictured in this posting, my mother and father, and my adopted Grandmother, "Granny," who called me her Big Boy. And then there's Fifi (pictured above), my little girl that I loved and cared for. She's still with us, but now lives with "N" some 40 miles from here. I miss my little girl.

During the years I had become a stranger to myself. I knew that I wanted to return to my former self, but I literally couldn’t remember who I used to be. In retrospect, I’ll never, ever be that person again, but that’s because I’ve grown stronger through my new life and journey. I remember clearly that a few days after “N” went into rehab, I was returning from our laundry room, and I peeked into the little room where I store my bikes. I don’t know what it was that drew me to them, but I went in and looked around. Perhaps being around them was jogging my memory of my love for two wheels, being outdoors, and maybe even the memory of that first time that I rode my bike along Upper Happy Valley Road on my way to my elementary school in Lafayette, CA. I felt so incredibly free that day. So who knows for certain what drew me back to my bikes, but that day I finished my laundry, and then found my cycling gear. I could barely fit into my cycling shorts while trying to get them over my fat belly and thighs, before I headed out for my first a ride in a long time. I rode up Railroad Grade to Double Bow Knot that day. I’m not kidding you when I say this; I almost had a heart attack just getting there, and I was only spinning in my granny gear! I was frightened, happy, sad, and energized all at once. You see, it was on that day that I began to remember myself. I had always been a healthy and active human being, but the tentacles of alcoholism are strong, and they had sucked me into a world that was not my own, nor one that I care to ever see or live in again.

So how am I today? Well I can tell you a few anecdotal tales. For example, that ride that almost killed me one year ago to this day is now barely even enough of a ride to warm me up. Twelve months ago I weighed about 215-220 lbs. Today I weighed myself in at 172 lbs. I still have some body fat, but it’s slowly melting away as I continue to pedal forward. Some of the ailments that had routinely aggravated me a year ago such as, blurred vision, chronic knee pain, mobility issues, foot problems, and the list goes on, are now literally gone. I looked in the mirror today and I see myself again. There was a time when I looked in the mirror and I didn’t even recognize myself. What I’ve described above is just the physical return to health. I’ve also gone through a magnificent return to health in every other area of my life. My friends have returned to me, and I to them. My family is connected to me again, and I’m making new friends faster than I know how to keep track. That’s the good news about my recovery as an Al-Anoner. In Alcoholics Anonymous people celebrate their “birthdays,” meaning their sobriety dates. I admire and respect this act. In Al-anon we don’t get “chips,” nor do we get proper birthday celebrations. I think that this fact is unfortunate, and maybe I’ll find some way to change that in the future. I still believe, and this is of course a biased view, that those of us that have survived living with alcoholics have endured much more travesty and pain than those that have had to change their lives in order to leave alcohol behind. I’m sure that I just pissed off ten percent of the nation… It's just my opinion. Today I celebrated two birthdays on my ride, mine and “N’s.” Although “N” and I don’t speak, I still wish her a happy birthday. I wish myself an even bigger and happier birthday, as I know what I have endured since about 2000 when one thing after another began hit me. It’s really been more than one man should have to go through alone, or in one lifetime, but I have survived thus far. So today I celebrated two birthdays, although not with equal gusto. There are some of you that have been “extra special” friends to me since last year. No full names are allowed on R2R as you know, so please try to fill in the blanks, but then again, you already know who you are: G & C from MI, M, M, F, ,Infamous P, D, C, S, M, N, D, E, S, G, S, J, J, K, E. D. & H, J & S, and there are so many more. I’ll hopefully have a full list next June when I finish my rides. Anyway, thanks to all of you that have helped me during the last year. My journey isn’t over, and I hope to help as many others as I can along the way. I’ve been reminded repeatedly lately that, “It’s not a destination, it’s a journey.” Simply put, and incredibly accurate.

Distance: 17.62 miles Calories burned: 1,443 Time: 1:36:13 hours Elevation gain: 1,997 ft Garmin Connect ride details: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/19921263