September 8th, 2008

7:00pm

I haven’t really talked about it, but my family’s financial situation is fucked. My sister needs three grand to pay off her classes. We need to sell our house and move into an apartment. My dad has this thing where he gets paid and spends all his money ridiculously, buying presents, art, taking strangers out to dinner and paying for everyone, and a few months later we’re broke, waiting for another check. As a kid, there was nothing my dad wouldn’t buy me. We had Go-Karts, Go-Peds, every gaming system, our own computers, our own rooms, our own TVs… If you ask my sister if we’re rich, she’ll get so defensive, but to most people we are rich. Southern Roy came over once and was like, “Holy shit, y’all mother fuckers got a FLEET of fucking Mercedes out here.” Everyone in my family drives a Mercedes. My mom drives this old piece of shit S-Class Mercedes, my dad has the GL truck, my brother has a 2006 C-Class, my sister has the 2009 C-Class, I have an older 2003 one… to us it’s always been normal.

I just got out of a meeting, and I feel fucking good.

I often see people that have shitty cars, lame clothes, receding hairlines, and they’re the happiest motherfuckers I know. I look at people like Marvin and think they must be miserable, until I hear them share, and then I’m like wow, that’s what I need, that’s what’s wrong with me, this guy gets it. I let my insecurities get the best of me too often. How I feel depends on my clothes and how other people perceive me. When I tell myself I look good, sometimes I don’t believe it. I need other people to tell me. It’s still hard to look in the mirror. I hate what I see.

Yesterday, I had to go to court again, and today, one of my teachers asked me how it went. That’s crazy right, like why does she care? Sometimes I think my teachers are only nice to me because they know how fucked up I am. People say stuff and think it doesn’t bother me, like I can’t hear them.

My teacher saw me sitting by myself at lunch and she came up to me, saying, “Bryan, what are you doing all by yourself?” I take out my headphones.

“What?” She looks down at the table.

“What is all this crap?” I laugh. At lunch I’m always reading my NA book and doing my step work.

“It’s NA stuff. You know, Narcotics Anonymous?”

She looks around and says, “yeah, but why do you gotta be all by yourself?” She grabs a kid and says “hey, meet Bryan.” I know the kid and he knows me, he says, “yeah, I know him,” and runs off.

The teacher looks back at me and says, “why is everyone scared of you, you’re not gonna shoot up the school are you?”

I laugh… a little.

I’ve been planning meetings with the Mad Russian. He keeps telling me HNI is the best thing you can do for your recovery. HNI stands for Hospitals and Institutions. We bring meetings to people who can’t get out to regular meetings. Every other week I go with him to this rehab in Coral Springs called FRC, a county run facility. It’s a men’s meeting, probably like forty to sixty people. The Mad Russian said when I get six months clean I have to get a commitment to bring in my own meeting. He literally said, “If you don’t have a HNI commitment when you get six months, fucking relapse, you’re taking up space.”

My sponsor is so shot out, haha.