Belize News, Reporter.bz – REPORTER NEWSPAPER

 Breaking News

Sober Reflections

Sober Reflections
January 11
21:50 2020

The Awakening
By: Mike Rudon Jr. – –

I didn’t make any resolutions as I entered this year.
Cuddled up with two of my kids watching Maleficent
die and then change into a dragon and kill a bunch of
people and all that good stuff, I snuck into 2020 content,
but not content. Can’t explain it – don’t ask. I’ve failed
so many times before, that the truth is all I brought into this year with me is an overwhelming fear that nothing will change, at least not for any measurable amount of time. So anyway, long story short, I was afraid to promise myself, much less anybody else, that I would lose weight, stop drinking, have more sex or be good. Understand – I want all those things to happen. But I just don’t make promises anymore.

I did decide to start walking as exercise. It’s been a success so far. Beyond my wildest expectations, even. I’ve walked three miles a day for three days, and by my estimate I’ve lost upwards of 30 pounds. I’m looking positively svelte. I may have to shop for an entirely new wardrobe. Nothing short of a miracle.

I also haven’t been drinking. I’d say that’s another story for another time, but actually it’s this story and this is the time. Here’s something you probably haven’t heard before. Alcohol has destroyed my life. Oh wait, you may have heard that before, a million times maybe. I have a friend, an English teacher, who corrects my writing, so I need to be very careful always. She’s accused me of plagiarizing myself. I think she means to say that all my columns start to sound the same after a while. Same sad story, same old liquor vibes, same remorse, same guilt, same everything. Maybe she’s right. My story is that if I choose to plagiarize anybody, it will be me because I’m so bloody amazing. My young English teacher is a tough one, but I like her anyway.

Did I stray just a tad? I was walking the lonely road a couple days back, miles and miles and miles into my three mile walk, when I thought how good it felt to be completely sober. I was able to remember Christmas Day, and time spent with my kids and family and friends and loved one – no typo there. I was even able to remember – and this is a highlight – Angelina Jolie in Maleficent. She is so damned gorgeous and rude. Now THAT is another story for another time. Anyway, my point is that I had all these memories – like real memories, not blurry pictures and garbled conversations. And I was able, as I walked, to plan not only the day ahead, or week ahead, but where I want to go with my life.

Sadly, sometime this year, I will lose two of my kids, for a moment. My marriage was destroyed by alcohol, and at some point, in a matter of months, my children from that marriage will leave to go with their mother. Even as I write this, my heart is heavy and I am close to shedding a manly tear or two. But it needs to be said, because alcohol is a bad thing. For now, my plan is to be the best father to all my children. I want to build a successful, strong life. I want to be respected. I want my own home. I’ve pretty much given up on the love story, but I’ll throw that onto the list too.

The point is this, because I’m rambling like a drunk on a three day spree. I am sober, and sober – I can see a way forward. I know what I want to be. I know what I want to achieve. I know where I want to go. I am focused, motivated, clear-headed. Sober, I reach out to my brothers in Belmopan who have never let me go even when I was distinctly un-Godlike and just plain wrong. Sober, I am determined to go to therapy, like for real, because as frigging amazing and wonderful as I am – I know something needs fixing in my sexy mind. Sober, I want to work and make myself proud. Sober, I am unbelievably awesome.

And as I walked, I knew that all of the above – all that awesomeness and all those plans and all that motivation and will to succeed, the determination to love and be loved – all that would go away in an instant, with one drink. Awww, I know you think I’m being dramatic. I’m not. But maybe you don’t understand alcohol. I do.

I got a call on Monday evening. One of my original seven faithful readers. The call came at a moment when I contemplated just giving up on the column for good. She asked for advice for a loved one who struggles like I do. I hope I was able to provide some insight, if not exactly assistance.

There are many people out there who need help, many of us who need help. I won’t let go. I won’t give up. And that’s all you need to do, to start – is never give up. We’ll beat this sucker yet.

* * *

click here
westrac AD
Weather Audio Player
click here
digitalBelize dot LIVE

THE MADE IN BELIZE SHOW

search bar