As I sit in the Big House it was submitted to me by one of my closest of friend about a comment that I had made in a previous post.
"I had nothing, not even a change of clothes. But I had three things that kept me going when the bottle could no more: the fibre of a broken being, the tattered remains of a life, and...my baby."
I would like to elucidate on that a little. I think I could be or may have been misun- derstood by some. My life at that time was an internal warfare. It was me versus my need for the bottle. Drinking was how I made it through my day. Many of my closest friends will tell you that. I got up drinking and didn't stop until my head hit the pillow. But when I found myself homeless, and the alcohol cushion wore away I was left with internal energies that could have failed me. The battle with the bottle, the battle against living life without it, all of these tested the fibre of my being. Me. And so, the three things that kept me from going mad in the insane position that I found myself in without my self medicating myself 
was first: the fibre of a broken being: The pieces of me that I had leftover after a ruined marriage, the loss of many friends, the loss of job and home and the assorted mixed and jumbled feelings that go along with it. Kind of like what you would feel if you got a pink slip on Monday. But many times worse. I had to deal with this. Second: the remains of a tattered life. See the above. And one other thing: my baby. A way to voice this outrage and pain that I was going through, and for the most of it, I did it through seeing the humor of the thing. But I had a way to vent them all, through my baby, even she being a gift from a thoughtful friend. These are all internal things, things that I can only blame myself for having, or not having. This all began and ended with me, an internal conflict and salvation.And it's at this point that I need to let you know that there were people who were there for me, and they know who they are and they read this blog. There is no reason to go into trying to name them all, because I would be heartbroken if I left one out by mistake or error. Suffice it to say, they were all godsends and I love them all.
I fear that the above comment made might be taken out of it's context, so I wanted to paint a clearer picture of what I meant. This has not been a singular journey but one having many helpers. Like Lewis and Clark had Sacagawea on their way across the country to aid them, so did I have aid to get where I am now. I feel for the many homeless people out there that do not. Those out there that are truly alone.I have not been rescued from all pain, but I have been rescued from at least that one.
I love you.
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-retrospect.html
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