An Explanation of Solid Fuck-ups in The eye of every storm

How can one be so much better and still completely be falling apart, simultaneously? The universe typically makes order out of chaos, everything in its right place, so existing with one foot in a plane of recovery, while one is firmly planted in a shit-show seems paradoxical at best. I really don’t understand it.

TL;DR, I was a drunk, I got better. Story follows below.

Several years ago, when my parents were visiting the week prior to Christmas, I awoke one morning to find my hip was hurting. The pain was deep inside my left hip, and I couldn’t really articulate what was happening well. I just knew something wasn’t right, and said something about it. The former soldier in me did what every soldier does, and that is “drive on” and “suck it up” and think things like “pain is weakness leaving the body” and “cliches are fun.” My stepfather was the one who matter-of-factly told me I need to get it checked out. He normally is quiet. A former homicide investigator turned high-school history teacher, he keeps his cards close, listens and observes, and says little. When he does speak, the nature of his words are chosen just so and its always important.

I took his advice and went. Long story short, I needed a double hip replacement. The next four years of my life through six separate surgeries, I battled a constant pain in some form or another. I didn’t realize at the time, but my drinking intensified and intensified. Subconsciously, I was self-medicating, drinking because it loosened me up and helped me focus on a good time with friends instead of dealing with the pain.

Earlier this year, January 04, I left work again, this time with lower back pain, and right hip pain. Lincoln Financial approved my Short Term Disability immediately, and I went to the doctor, and they did their X-rays and their poking and their prodding, and so on and so forth. When it came time for my Long Term Disability to kick in, Lincoln denied it.

Full stop.

What?

My drinking became insanely worse. Now, poor and broken coupled with this new Depression, I absconded all of my daily life duties, emotionally abandoned my wife, and really didn’t care if I crashed my car into a MACK truck on the way home from the bar- actually, I probably would’ve welcomed the truck with open arms, unobstructed from a seat-belt.

Well, the truck ended up coming, in the form of an SUV, and like the sarcastic asshole the Universe truly is, it was not me that got hit. On June 03, while stopped at a redlight, my beautiful 28 year old wife was rear ended by a driver going about 55 miles-per-hour coming off of a freeway who was on his phone and did not even see her car, or a stoplight, or anything other than the dick pick he was probably sending to some unsuspecting girl.

My wife spent three days in the ICU. After discharge, she couldn’t walk without a cane. She developed a bad stutter; she knew what she wanted to say, but it took her a long time to manifest the words into action. A whole new Katrina came home.

As much as it pains me to say this, I still went out drinking. I didn’t know what else to do. Her mom took her to appointments, and she and I have a mutual hatred for one another, so I just went out and watched baseball, downing brew after brew and shot after shot. Most days, the Cubs won, and some days they lost, but the point was, I did not have to deal with anything as long as I was at the bar.

Eventually, Katrina told me to get help, or she was going to leave me. I got help on July 01, checking myself into Discovery Point Retreat, a mansion settled on a nice ranch in eastern texas. They focused on Cognitive Behavioral Therapy in addition to dependency. The soldier in me adapted to this very well. I am like a machine, to a fault, in the sense that once I am programmed to do something, I will stop at nothing until the task is completed, in this case sobriety.

Two weeks into my 45 day stay, Katrina left me anyway.

I decided to stay, noting how much better I felt when I was sober, and once I made the change from doing it for someone else to doing it for me, the program really took off. I am a lot of the days sober right now (I don’t keep count, I think AA is bullshit for keeping count and when people slip up they punish them by making them “start over”).

I had nowhere to go, but this company happened to be opening a sober-living place in Downtown Dallas for graduated clients to assimilate back into society. At $150.00/week, I jumped on it, which was great, because I had no where to go. Its a nice apartment. My roommate is Kevin, and we were there the same time, and it’s just us, and he’s very Texas Country, but he’s nice and he has a humorous side to him, so we get along fabulously.

Back to Lincoln Financial.

My case manager at Discovery Point was awesome. Lea submitted the same exact paperwork, rode their ass, and finally got it approved. Now, Jonathyn is owed five months of back pay at 40% of my his salary, or about $10,478.00 and maybe some change. Well, they cut the check via mail and sent it to my wife on August 05. We called them and said, “What The Fuck? We told you to direct deposit it.” They cancelled the check THEN FORGOT TO REISSUE THE DEPOSIT. Finally, on August 22nd, the stars aligned and a direct deposit was issued to my bank-

-which decided to close my checking account on August 23 because it was in the negative for two months as I was in treatment.

Today, I have no idea where it is. It’s sad that I have $10,000 I can’t seem to ever get my hands on. Rent for sober-living is due and now I have no where to go. So yes, I’m sober, but now I’m dealing with all of this FUCKING BULLSHIT without my main coping mechanism, and it drives me absolutely bat shit crazy because I Have Done All Within My Power to make sure the right thing was done.

Also, my car was repossessed and Auctioned off. I lost my 2019 MINI Countrymen S John Cooper Works Package on August 22nd, as I did not have the money yet.

Recap: Dog Dies 14May, lost the house on 31May, wife car wreck on 03June, wife threatens to leave me on 27June, enter rehab on 01July, wife leaves me anyway on 14July, lost my car on 22Aug.

So here I sit, better, but worse. I can’t explain it. I’m mad and I’m hurt and I’m pissed off. My wife wants to “grow as people and then get back together when we’re both better” and I want to “tell her to fuck right off” because of the whole “in sickness and in health” thing we said to each other. I’m poor. I’m about to be homeless.

But HEY! I’M SOBER.

and that’s all anyone fucking cares about. it’s so sad.