Six Months to the Rest of My Life

I stood on the cliff overlooking the ocean. The same ocean I had looked at just a few years earlier, thinking to myself, I'm going to live here. And live here I did, with the love of my life Amy, whom I also met a few years earlier one day at the beach.

The wind pummeled me from the sea, cold and damp. I was drunk. Again. I smoked a cigarette. The burning smoke enhanced my dark euphoria. I cried and smoked another cigarette. 

This recurring pattern continued for a few months. I had been laid off from my startup tech job and was unemployed. Amy and I did take an amazing trip across Europe shortly after I was laid off, but when the travels were over, the perpetual hangover kicked in. I struggled with my blue genes, my addictions, my destructive past patterns of soul-crushing anxiety laced with depression. I didn't know what to do; this was post the dot-com bubble bursting into a tough job market. I felt like a failure unworthy of love or grace, even with my new found love.

At that time, I hid how much I drank from Amy. She worked nights then and it was too easy to drink more than usual. By the time she got home, I was already asleep. Passed out more likely. But then one day she found out what I was hiding, and the reckoning was upon me.

I come from addiction genes; my birth father was an abusive alcoholic and my mother struggled with chronic pain and painkillers later in life. I didn't start drinking until the very end of high school, but the fact is that I did start. Same with smoking cigarettes. In fact, I smoked cigarettes for 14 years after high school. A pack a day on average for most of those years. 

After the above heavy drinking, I didn't quit drinking, but I didn't drink as much and I didn't hide it anymore. Amy and I both drank in moderation, until the pandemic, where we both upped our intake (like many others at the time). I remember our kids asking us why we drank nearly every night. I'll come back to that one.

In 2002, I quit smoking. Amy and I were to be married in 2003, but she didn't want to marry a smoker. I didn't blame her. But it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. 

Nicotine has been proven to be as addictive as cocaine and heroin and may even be more addictive. 70 percent of smokers report wanting to quit, but many wait until they develop a significant tobacco-related disease such as heart disease, cancer or stroke.

The first two years were rough, but thankfully I did it. My official quit date was September 22, 2002, the same date when our oldest Beatrice was born years later. 

Which brings me back to drinking. Post-pandemic, Amy decided there would be no more drinking for her; she wanted to be healthier; it was no longer "fun". It'll be four years for her in October. She didn't have a problem with me still drinking and I kept it low to moderate (except for work trips unfortunately). Our kids asked why I still drank. While I reminded them it was usually only 2-3 times per week, Bryce would say to me, "You have a beer every night, Dad."

Then came the death of my dear friend Robby. Paralyzed since his swimming accident in high school, he suffered from chronic pain and a body that degenerated over the decades. And like my mother, he struggled with painkillers.

After that, I really began to reflect on my relationship with drinking. Alcohol is detrimental and there's plenty of data now showing how toxic it is to the body, no matter the amount ingested. Without planning exactly when, I stopped on March 22 this year, six months to the anniversary date of my quitting smoking back in 2002.

When you're genetically dispositioned to addiction, ultimately the only choice you have is to not do the thing you might become highly addicted to. That was something I learned from attending Nicotine Anonymous (same program as AA) before I quit for good. Because if you choose to do it, you're right back in the heart of the destructive dark abyss. Overdramatic? Not really. Those who know, know. And mercy me, quitting smoking was a lot harder than quitting drinking, that's for sure. 

I'm glad I quit drinking. I'm glad my wife did four years before me. We also know our own kids may drink someday and that's their choice (but as far as we know they haven't yet). However, I know firsthand that addiction and purposeful sedation prevented me from overcoming fear, anxiety, and scarcity, instead of embracing love and the potential abundance of a brighter life. And better health. You can truly never be happy if you don’t let go of the things that make you sad. And in the end, alcohol always made me sad. 

So today, my life-affirming sentence is six months to the rest of my life. Blessings.

Reenergizing Our Hearts

"A tired mind become a shape-shifter
Everybody need a mood lifter
Everybody need reverse polarity..."

–Rush, Vital Signs

I thought I was going to die. After the first lap, my asthma kicked in and I struggled to breathe. After the third lap, my lungs felt like they were filled with hot mud; I had to fight for every single raspy gasp of air. After the fourth lap, my skinny body was drenched in sweat and my face a pasty white. 

But I did it. Every year when I had to run the mile to pass physical education in grade school, I did it. Even with the asthma attacks I used to get. 

Fast forward to today – Beatrice has to run a mile every week in middle school PE, and she decided she wanted to work on improving her time. She asked her mom (Amy) to go with her, to run to the ocean about a mile from where we live. I told her I wanted to go, too. Her sister, Bryce, said no way. 

So, the three of us left the house and began to run. Immediately Beatrice sprinted ahead and Amy kept pace. I was left in the dust. I don't really run anymore since I had knee surgery, but I do run on the beach once a week at Natural Bridges State Park. As I ran the best pace I could, I felt every ounce of my body weight and I kept thinking about our recent decision to cut back on caloric consumption (food and drink).

Amy and I are in pretty good health, but as the pandemic wore on this past year, we both put on what has been jokingly called the "COVID-19". Thankfully it wasn't literally 19 pounds, but it was enough for each of us. We exercise nearly every day, and yet, our metabolisms are slower than ever.

Beatrice and Amy were over 50 yards ahead of me when we hit the half-mile mark. I thought I was going to die. No adult asthma this time (although it has come back over the past 15 years during fall and spring), but I was still sucking air. The weekly beach runs were not my conditioned friends at this point. I kept going though. Amy and Bea doubled back to be with me, but then Bea zoomed ahead again with Amy right there with her.

It wasn't just the weight that was the issue. Like so many working parents with kids distance learning (not this year so far thankfully), sheltering in place, wearing masks everywhere else, waiting for the vaccines (which we got once available), and the contrary extremes around us going completely bananas on nearly every aspect of life, we compartmentalized the daily grind and didn't really care for our mental health. 

We thought we did with our morning meditations and positive communication practice. And while it may have been a temporary mood-lifter, sedating with food and drink every night isn't really good self-care. It's just turning "off" until the next day starts everything all over again and the compartmentalizing continues. Even so, we remained grateful throughout for our circumstances and took care of our children and their emotional needs, just not our own as much as we should have.

After Beatrice, Amy and I finished running the mile together, and after I caught up to Amy and Beatrice who kept their 50-yard lead most of the way, I looked out over the ocean and to the Natural Bridge below where I'd finish my workout. My chest heaved, my big body was drenched in sweat, and my face was a pasty white. The air tasted so very sweet though, and was filled with a clarity and grace, without judgement, for ourselves and for others who have struggled with pandemic life, even when we think we didn't. We're finally reversing the polarity of our fatigued spirits and reenergizing our hearts. Blessings to you all.