14.5.14

Aloha. How you been?

Ive been sure remiss in adding to the surf page. Its been relative hell for a while. My daughter Mai is 22 and fine has a BF and is working. Son 2 (Bear) Koni; is fine as well but lost job recently. Queen is OK too. Her cousin died of pancreatic cancer and was a close family friend to us all. My eldest son is gone from his family; my grandkids (Kaleo 8; Kekoa6: and Kiana 13 (hanai adopted from mom previous marriage) are all well and being kids. My son on the other hand is a drug addicted foolish man, who under the false hopes of bipolar falsehoods thinks that being on the streets is life enough. My daily penance is dying a little each day knowing that one day the EMS call for and OD will be him. And that kills me. When they day goes by and a call is for a deceased body retrieval; the horror that we deal with is nothing but panic, salt and open wounds. He does not know what this is like. We have gone thru numerous avenues of rehab; love; tough love; hate; remorse and guilt only to have all avenues be dead ends. The man is fucked up. My parents 81 and 83 are on the edge of life and I should be there for them; but my home life is so fractured and a miss that I cant go one day without the intoxicant of booze. Thank god I work or Id be fucked. The joys of surfing are few and far between; reality of chasing $$ and the hopes of calm don't relent. Yes I surf; but the sessions are fraught with worry. Worry that I may submit to the relentless water; that I may entice failure and give up. That the calm of peace and never ending silence may be enough. Its not pleasant. But We strive on; we look at the bright eyes and see in them a hope that I cant grasp; a hope that is theirs. I can only hold on; prepare for the next reality; the next turn of the dice. Its a wait and see wait and pray wait and FUCK I AM TRYING attitude that hopefully can sustain me. Good Alohas to you all; I hope all is well with all of you - Kenny; Zilla; Angie (youre xmas cards are such the bomb) Le Artiste; and all who travel by here. All my Aloha. Mark

4 comments:

Jennifer said...

Of course, when an addict dies, be that death directly or indirectly from the addiction or from something totally unrelated to the addiction, those who love the addict will grieve. Grieving, as you know full well, is a painful, gut-wrenching process. Just when we think we're done, another wave of it crashes over and through us and the cycle begins again. And again.

Of course I have no answers for you, only answers for me, and one answer for me, for now, for the foreseeable future, is no booze. For me, booze delayed, dulled, complicated, prolonged the grieving process.

Currently, the only thing that makes me want a drink is that overwhelming sense of helplessness I sometimes feel when I've deluded myself that it is my job to help or to heal others, or (because I have a huge stinking ego problem) to fix the entire effed-up world.

I have a deal with myself: if I ever want a drink at a time when I don't feel the helplessness, I may have the drink. Oddly enough, when I'm happy -- honestly happy, not bullshitting myself happy -- the thought of having a drink just isn't in my head.

I hope you find some peace, Mark. It is within you. Probably somewhere under all those lies you tell yourself -- the ones that say "it's my job to fix everything."

It ain't your job.

Ain't mine either.

And what a huge fucking relief that is, because when I try to fix anything but me, I only fuck it up.

Much love,
The blogger formerly known as Zilla

Wayne Mountan said...

Hey just wondering if you could help me out and visit my page back,
http://galaxycheatcodes.blogspot.com

Unknown said...

Thinking of you and yours. Formerly thoreauslaughing blogger

fineartist said...

Aloha friend. Chasing money is killing me. I want to hide away in a cabin and cry for days on end, but it wouldn't help, only hinder. Or I'd really be letting the dark side take control and some part of me, be it small, wont allow that to happen. I suppose I should be grateful but I'm scared instead. It's getting much more difficult to hide my fear.