If this were a film with subtitles, you might see this next:

DRAMATIC MUSIC

or not…

I’m not sure. My brain rollercoasters from dramatic moments to tedious silence with a lot in between. The only thing that’s constant is knowing that feelings in one minute could be entirely the opposite in the next. Call it lockdown fever. Call it more of the same. It’s entirely possible that it’s only the solitude that brings awareness of the constant motion and the peaks and valleys and slow climbs followed by sharp plunges. Right now it’s a semi-caffeinated flatline. Coffee didn’t lift or depress anything this morning. There is apparently not enough caffeine in the world to elevate me or it would be done already. There doesn’t seem to be any rush to change that.

There are feelings to sort out. It shouldn’t change things but the person who brought me into recovery, or inspired me to recovery, relapsed a few days ago. She is a few states away attending to her dying father and through the grief and feelings she opened up a drawer and there was a bottle of oxycontin just sitting there waiting. She did tell me once many years ago that she wouldn’t get through the death of her father without a relapse. The Crocodiles say all the time that when you put any conditions at all on your recovery, no matter how far-fetched the right conditions may be, you will probably go out. Again, it shouldn’t or doesn’t really change things for me. There are no conditions that come to mind for me but one never knows. We all have blind spots. I’m not afraid for myself. I’m simply sad. It was, as far as I know, one slip with nothing since but that could change day by day. It’s hard to tell. It just makes me sad. I know what she went through to get nearly 12 years. It’s never an easy road.

It’s always been a little easier for me but that’s about acceptance, partly. I’ve a certain comfort level with chaos and random bullshit. It’s only when things go quiet that my mind goes squirrelly. The Universe does seem to be mostly chaos and random bullshit and I’ve never tried to find order or make sense in that. No, wait. Backtrack. I’ve tried to find order and make sense but I’ve never lost sight of what is normal, and chaos is normal. That’s rarely been more evident than in these last six weeks. Random bullshit is the norm. The people who are acting out the most are the ones who don’t seem to be able to accept that. They are the people that want absolutes. They want truth and they’re looking everywhere but right under their noses.

For fuck sake, if a pandemic doesn’t show you the truth then you’re just not interested in truth. Things will calm down when people recovery from control addition. Talk about junkies, man! Everybody knows they’re not going to live forever but they’re trying really hard to forget that they know that. Any little bit of control and certainty they can find they’re scrapping about for it like crackheads picking through the carpet and smoking cat little thinking it’s rock. Only difference is that unlike a crackhead who wants that tiny grain all for himself, control addicts will huddle together in fucked up little powerless groups and get all loud and swear they’ve got the lock on the motherlode. Election year 2020 or whatnot. Politics in the time of Corona.

So yah, this has all been just a little bit easier for me because I’ve accepted how entirely random shit really is. No truth and no answers expected. It would be nice but my truth isn’t what other people want to hear anyway.

This sounds awfully bleak, but it doesn’t reflect what I’m feeling. Not that I’m really feeling anything but there are some devils to be exorcised.

I’m okay.

I’m not stressed.

I’m just powerless.