Adult Children of Alcoholics

April 1991

herman
April 7, 1991
Well, I just did what must be the last act of a desperate man. I bought a friend. To be entirely correct, I bought a rat, Herman, to be my friend. I figure I rent a friend once a week in therapy, why no buy one for the home? I am using the old snake cage for his home; I hope he will be happy, though in this house, I doubt it is possible. Carolyn has the people at work, she has the dog, she has her folks, and I have nothing. Even Andrew is no longer a companion. I wonder if Herman can smell all the mice fed to the snake over the years…? I am going to ACA again tonight. Take 3. I talked with Liz about my not having friends and she thinks that ACA is a great place to start. The problem is that when I begin to make friends, I close them off to keep them from getting closer. I also started reading Bradshaw's book Homecoming again. This time I will do the meditations and exercises. Along with ACA and Liz, I hope to speed up my recovery. That way I will know sooner if I want to stay married or not. And then I can do something about it instead of living in this zombie state of apathy and indifference. Read More...
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March 1991

March 10, 1991
Pasted Graphic
My weekly encryptions seem to be waning in their happenings. C'est la guerre! Last week was a terribly depressing one. My therapy last Thursday was shared with Carolyn, and wasted, I fear. Neither she nor I have opened the conversation that should have evaluated the session for its good and bad points. In fact, we have scarcely spoken since. Liz did ask me about the origin of my depression and as near as I can tell, it is now a frenzied numbness as a result of too much internalized hatred. She opened the subject of anti-depressant drug therapy, something worth thinking about. I am reminded of the Patty Duke movie Call Me Anna. I was going to ask if she meant Lithium, but didn't want to appear too eager for a drug fix. She told me to call if I begin to feel suicidal. I don't know if it counts but I have been fantasizing that I die in surgery on Friday. I am having my wisdom teeth pulled and have heard such wonderful stories of how quick and total an anesthetic it is. I keep thinking that if I should die during the surgery, I will not feel any more pain. I fear that I do not want to be married anymore. I long for romance & excitement & passion, but I think Carolyn knows me all too well for any mysterious liaison such as I am seeking. Perhaps I should really seek my true self and in that discovery I will come to realize what the real "I" wants from life. I am, however, a rather impatient chap and not familiar with the waiting game. Read More...
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February 1991

February 4, 1991
bondage
Dream - mother & father, roles reversed. They are poor, father working class luck, I am well-established. There is a chipped cola glass, father reading "Buds & Insects" about giant insects that eat people.

February 7, 1991
Again, a long time passes without writing. I am going to my third meeting with Liz Slocum, my therapist. I talked with Brent Isaacs last night from work. I am feeling very bad lately, mostly due to my work. In over a year no-one has had the decency to review my performance or offer me a raise. Brenda thinks I am worth whatever I ask, and that there is no reason at all that my so-called "demands" wouldn't be met. Even Wayne Vannoy has told me several times this week that I am doing a great job. I may bring this up this evening at my therapy - maybe not. I don't seem to have much strength to even ask for what I want anymore. Or ever… Read More...
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More Background

January 16, 1991
desertstorm
It is 9:00 pm as I write, which is means that the US strike against Iraq began 5 1./2 hours ago and ended some three hours ago. My heart is heavy having witnessed the first armed conflict of this scale since Vietnam. All other things seem to pale by comparison. Carolyn and I have had many long talks, the details of which I shall outline later. Christopher seems to be out and Dan seems to be in. More on that later, as well. I recall three men in a Baghdad hotel reporting on the air raid and I am proud of them.
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Pushing Back

January 10, 1991
Kinsey
Well, I went to my second of 14 straight ACA meetings last night. This time I really think that it will help me. For starters, I verbalized for the first time what a mistake my marriage was at the time. I married the first person who said, "I love you." More and more I am comparing her to my mother and father as far as how I feel she treats me. I told Carolyn that I had questioned my sexuality and she still loved me. So I felt safe and grabbed onto her "forever." I told her that I no longer questions my sexuality, which is true, but I never told her what I had decided. The truth seems to be that I am a 4 on a Kinsey 6 scale. I just got off the phone with Christopher who has not called all week long so I had to find out if I had done something wrong. I guess that must be similar to how I make Carolyn feel when I ignore her and don't compliment her. But, that is how sex makes me feel when she refuses to compliment me… even when I ask her to. I am caught up in writing letters to guys who have advertised in a gay men's mag. I have written 6 or so and have envelopes addressed to 4 more. I wish I knew who I really was and what I really want. I finished Homecoming and now plan to re-read it and do all the exercises and meditations. I pray I succeed. Read More...
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Looking Back to Move Forward

IMG_0574
I'm no Anne Frank. Let's begin there. I'm not trying to be famous after I die (what's the value in that?)
I'm not exactly sure why I keep these in the first place.
But what I do believe is that the diaries of my youth have no value if I never go back and read them. And since I'm going back to read them, I may as well share them here as weekly-ish blog posts.
Let's begin where I can begin: January 1, 1991… literally half my life ago. Read More...
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