Alicia and I celebrated New Year’s Eve by drinking fine wine and smoking some potent marijuana. We talked, laughed and swayed to the music. Finally, we started crashing well before midnight, which would end the party. She said she had something that would pick us up. She went to the kitchen and came back with some coke and it wasn’t Coca Cola. We snorted some and the good times continued. My recovery seemed complete. See the previous article Prozac and the Crack-Up Boom.
Normally, I don’t like cocaine, but it did the job. I started feeling pretty good and rolled another joint, pouring us some more wine. I felt we would be ready to celebrate the New Year with some pleasure and ecstasy. How wrong I was.
As she continued to loosen up, I noticed her mood changing, then she started complaining about how bad this Christmas was. Personally, I felt it went rather nicely, however she said it was the worst Christmas she ever had. Then she began blaming it on me, saying I didn’t make enough money to supply her and the girls more gifts, which seemed ridiculous to me. She then stated “How did I ever get mixed up with a loser like you.” Her cutting words stunned me, so in order to deal with the attack, I smoked more weed, snorted some coke and drank a large glass of wine. We had ended the year badly, which resulted in New Year’s Day filling me with frustration and despair.
Previous April – Recovery the Crack-Up Boom?
After suffering through a restless night of fear and heartbreak, I pulled myself out of bed with the realization that I had to deal with some serious problems. The first thing I needed to do was get a tow truck to drive me to the scene of the accident. I knew that self-created circumstances had spiraled my life to a low point and my only choice was recovery…or the death of my body, mind and spirit.
When we reached the scene, I discovered a heavily damaged vehicle. I wondered how Alicia and the girls got out unharmed. The driver towed it to the designated area so the insurance company could inspect it. My heart sank as I rescued my belongings from the glove compartment and the trunk.
When the driver dropped me off at my apartment, my spirits crashed through the floor as I entered. The loss of my car, my girlfriend and my unemployment status haunted me. I did what any rational being would do and popped some Prozac, lit a joint and turned on the radio. The first song I heard was Tom Petty’s Free Fallen’. To make matters worse, I found out the insurance didn’t cover the cost of my car loan. To this day, I can’t remember the make of the vehicle. I must have blocked it from my conscious mind. Anyway, I didn’t exactly feel my recovery was around the corner.
Alicia called that evening and said the accident only resulted in a few bruises and that the girls were fine. Then she told me that she felt terrible. She explain how she had dreamed that my apartment caught fire, hopelessly trapping me and now she was afraid of what could happen to me. With my infinite wisdom, I told her to come home. When her mother bought her and the kids home, I felt a sense of relief.
I should have been disgusted with the situation; however, we made love that night. Is it that easy to forgive someone, or had the Prozac completely warped my thoughts and feelings? Is it possible her dream was prophetic? Was my future recovery an illusion? I also wondered if Alicia came back to me because she felt guilty about wrecking my car and practically turning my life upside down.
We suffered through some tough times for several weeks. The unemployment agency turned down our request for benefits. The day we bought groceries, we had to walk them home, which tired us out.
One night we were playing Scrabble. Interesting enough we both spelled the word Van. Two days later her sister offered us a used Chevy Van for only $600, which was fortunate because we had enough money to purchase it. I could now seek a new job.
I decided I needed to get off the Prozac and went cold turkey, something doctors don’t recommend. My heavy intake of marijuana probably diminished any withdrawal symptoms.
In early June, I found a job as an Optical Lab Technician that paid a decent wage. That helped me get back on my feet. Happy days are here again.
Alicia stayed home watching her girls, but eventually she started feeling unfulfilled. She told me she needed a job. I explained we would have to pay for child care. She said she wanted one anyway. I managed to get her a sales job at my place of employment with the same hours I had.
Everything went fine that summer as we fired up our passion, experiencing much pleasure and ecstasy. After we put the girls to bed, we kept playing the same scene, pour some wine, roll a joint, put on some rock ‘n’ roll and make love. You could call her “Lady Pleasure.”
We both liked going to the park and shooting some baskets. On day, I went by myself and discovered two teams occupied the court. Since one of the teams need another a player, the team leader asked me to join. We played quite a game. All the players were younger and quicker than me so I had to play a zone defense. However, my passing and shooting skills were still superb and our team won. I remember arriving home completely exhausted.
A few days later, I became severely ill with a bad case of the flu. I stayed in bed, but couldn’t get rid of it. My fever was so high that I dreamed of drinking battery acid, finally waking up in a pool of cold sweat. I had to get to a doctor. He prescribed some antibiotics that kicked it out of me; however, weakness plagued me for almost a month.
Back to Meditation
My days of acting the part of the Reluctant Objectivist seemed to be over. I decided a full recovery meant bringing back meditation. Alicia liked the idea and seemed especially interested in the mysticism that came with it. Mainly, I meditated for the mental, emotional and health benefits, but I indulged her interest. Would I possibly become a mystic?
One day we were meditating and she suddenly said “There’s something in this room and it’s not very good.” I asked “What do you mean?” With a tremor in her voice she stated “There’s an evil presence here and I’m scared.” I told her I didn’t feel anything, but it made me uneasy. We discontinued the meditation and I started meditating by myself.
I had an interesting meditation experience that took place back in the old days where my wife, kids and I lived in a log cabin. It appears I thrived as one of those “Hellfire Preachers” who attempted to pound the fear of god into innocent victims. My wife looked unhappy and old before her time and the kids seemed scared of me.
The snowy winter day kept us inside. Soon it became hard to breathe in our smoke-filled room because of a clogged chimney. I was unable to unclog it from within, so I decided to climb on the roof to get the job done. As my family stood outside in the cold, I went to the barn, retrieved a ladder and got on the roof. Unfortunately, as I reached the chimney, I lost my balance, slid off the roof and landed on the ground, dead with a broken neck.
As I uneasily thought about the meditation, I wondered if I just relived a past-life experience. Maybe karma and reincarnation existed as a reality. Was I permanently saying goodbye to Objectivism and embracing mysticism?
The Holiday Season
Joy and good cheer define the holidays and we had plenty of it. We continued our partying ways and enjoyed every minute of it. I realized I smoked too much marijuana, but I had no desire to cut down because I wasn’t feeling any negative effects. I believed my recovery was complete and I continuously experienced a sense of well-being. Little did I know that I might be living in a world of illusion.
You might be wondering about the girls. Of course, we didn’t party in front of them. In fact, we decided to give them an appreciation of art and music, which worked out quite well. In addition, we introduced them to Yoga for Children which helped them develop some self-discipline. We were really satisfied with their progress.
We enjoyed Christmas, at least I thought we did. “Santa” (no, I didn’t dress up as Santa Claus) sent the girls several expensive gifts and a few that were really cheap. It was a surprise to discover they preferred the least expensive of all, the board game Candy Land. We went over to her mother’s house and celebrated the day with her family.
Then came New Year’s Eve and the expectation of an exciting evening. I didn’t realize my recovery would hit a brick wall.
RA Meyer – Master the Social Maze
P.S. Stay tuned for the next installment. Is a recovery still possible?