Sobering Thoughts Before Dawn

Today makes 5 days of soberness. I’ve never been much of a soda drinker outside of putting it in scotch or bourbon so giving that up wasn’t hard.

My stomach doesn’t hurt as much, I’ve been sleeping better and I’ve probably drank more water in the past week then I probably drank the last 4 months. Even with saying all that I’m up right now withy the rain falling and the cold bearing down wishing I had a whiskey neat warming me. Does that make me weak?

Weak that I’m craving something that’s literally making me sick? That’s more of a depressant than it is a stimulant. I often wonder if it’s just in my genes, if it’s something that no matter how hard I try it’ll always be on my back.

I’m not an alcoholic, I’ve seen intervention but at times I do feel lost.

I’ve pushed people away so that I can get my mind right. Thus is something I needed to do alone. Something I have to do alone.

Pray for me.


Alone In A Crowded Room


Today will be different I tell myself. Walking down the sidewalk, beer in one hand, ice in the other. Today will be different. Most of the people inside will know your name, you like to talk so talk. Today will be different.

Standing around, saying my hellos, trying to make small talk. I realize something. Today may not be different. No matter how many people know my name or recognize my face I’m still alone in this crowded room. I used to think it was social anxiety then I thought it was just good old-fashioned introvert like behavior but now I’m not so sure it’s any of those things.

Sometimes I feel like something inside of me is broken. That piece of me that lets people in, that makes and keeps friends. Or maybe people just don’t like me. I’ve thought about that a lot to be honest. I know our generation isn’t supposed to care about such trivial things but I do.

My writing has made me known. So most of the time people will recognize my name as soon as I introduce myself. I like that feeling but what I’ve come to realize is that it’s a temporary feeling. This weekend I realized I have no friends. I know a lot of people, I occasionally talk to them but I have no real friends.
When the concept first hit me it scared me.

Now at 5:00am on a Monday morning I’m coming to accept it. I don’t know if this will always be the case but it’s the case now and I have to live with the hand I’ve been dealt. In my heart my wife will be my best friend so I won’t have to worry about this but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.

I can be at a book signing with a hundred people waiting for my autograph and feel like a stranger. I can be at a family holiday dinner and feel like I don’t know one person in the room. Sometimes it scares me how detached I am.

I want to blame this isolation on the writing but I’m not sure I can.

Watching Superman Become Human

379994_610579043725_118401058_31642843_1262844695_n I’ve often said I’ve been blessed in life because I haven’t had anyone close to me die. Some older aunts and uncles, cousins I didn’t really know. Even when my grandmother died on my father’s side I couldn’t feel much pain because I didn’t really know the woman.

This past year or so has been hard on my grandfather. He’s had to have both his legs amputated and for a man that’s spent his entire life being self-sufficient, being a worker; I can see that it’s eaten away at his soul, his spirit.

Maybe if he was younger he’d be more willing to fight, more willing to push in rehab or willing to learn to walk again. He’s in his late 70’s though and when you get the age and your body can’t do what it used to do it scares you.

It’s hard for him to get in the bed so when he comes home from dialysis or the doctor I have to go to my grandparents’ home and literally pick him up and put him the bed. I can tell it’s uncomfortable for him, we’ve never been close. I learned a lot from him and he was always a good provider but we never had that bond.
He has to put his arms around my neck while I pick him up. It takes a lot some days for me not to cry or show weakness in front of my grandmother or mother or aunts, cousins. I know I have to be strong for them so I am. I may crack a joke to lighten the mood or standby but on the inside seeing him sad, not able to go outside and sit in the garage or work on a car breaks my heart.

Watching my grandmother care for him and have to handle things she never handled before breaks my heart. I was going to move to Austin, I was going to but I can’t leave them like this. I’d regret it for the rest of my life.
I’ve never had a lot of friends, never been that guy that cared much about making them. It’s always been family and work for me. I don’t care if you like me but you will respect my work ethic and my loyalty.

At 5am on a Tuesday morning as I sit at my office desk, tired from the nights work. Too tired to eat or go work out but not sleepy enough to go home. So I write. I put my emotions and feelings on this piece of electronic paper. I share with the world what it’s like to watch Superman become human. I share with my readers what it’s like to watch a man that people always asked for help be the one that needs the help. At 5am on a Tuesday morning I use my God given ability to write to breathe.

Give people their flowers while their living because some bible verse somewhere says, “No man knows the time nor the hour.”

Demez F. White