Project Empathy

I have "Continuing Care" class on Mondays from 6pm to 9pm. They consist of going into group at 6:15, taking a break at 7, going back to group at 7:15 (ish), taking a break at 8, going back at 8:15 (ish) and leaving at 8:50 (ish). Out of 9 classes, we have watched 3 movies and 1 documentary. To most everybody else, class is a breeze and just a weekly pain in the ass. To me, it's disappointing, boring as hell and a waste of my fucking time. It's county run, man, what are you going to do?

I'll tell you what I'm going to do...what I did...er, am doing. Past tense. Present participle. Gah. Anyway...

I'm giving myself weekly projects. I can't rely on Travis County for help (surprise). Two weeks ago, I made a list of all the things I still do that I did as an active drunk/junkie. These included smoking, eating like a college freshman, too much caffeine consumption...even  things like putting off laundry. I wanted to be mindful of all the little things that can add up to slipping into other old habits. I revisit the list every Monday to see what progress I've made on each of these. I'm making headway on some more than others (I'm looking at you, nicotine).

Last week was project 30 in 30. This is blog #8. Huzzah.

This week is Project Empathy. Empathy, as we know from our Google searching, is putting yourself in someone else's shoes so that you can understand what that person is feeling. It is on a deeper and more meaningful level than sympathy or pity. And I do dick about relating to someone that pisses me off during the course of my day. My empathy for strangers can be shit.

Hence this week's homework. Every day this week, I will pick one person a day who annoys, irritates or angers me. I will then try to imagine their childhood, their high school peer group...their successes, their failures...love lost, love found...what they're doing today and plan to do tomorrow...and what are they feeling at that moment they are behaving in that manner (that behavior I am not happy with).

After I've apparently written an extensive biography of this individual in my head, can I empathize?

There is a kid in the Monday group who bothers me constantly. He is a mouthy little dork who is white as hell and doesn't want to be. He constantly talks about his girlfriend and his fast food job. I am annoyed by his presence all the time. So...I had to pick him.

I did the best I could. I don't know if I fully empathize with him, but at the end of this exercise, he didn't bother me anymore. He's not even 21 yet. Let him be...whatever that is.

Irritation subsided into passing amusement.

Well, hell...I'll take it.

Past Future Present

"The future is there...looking back at us. Trying to make sense of the fiction we will have become." -- William Gibson, Pattern Recognition

I'm finishing Count Zero by William Gibson, the second book in the Sprawl Trilogy (Neuromancer being the first, Mona Lisa Overdrive the third). I listen to Trent Reznor's "Ghosts I-IV" when I read them, because I it fits Gibson's cyberpunk world. Gibson coined the term "cyberspace" in 1982, and I dig his vision of hackers as console cowboys jacking into a virtual world...their central nervous system plugged into the Matrix through a deck. It's very cool.

30 years later, we're all plugged in...in the least cool way, sometimes. Porn, arguments in complete anonymity so one can truly be an asshole, memes, an ungodly amount of "likes" for pictures of cats (guilty)...the future is here. But...there are hackers now, aren't they? And I'm sure they think they are cool as shit.

I wish I remembered everything I thought and felt when I started stand-up comedy here. I vaguely remember being a cocky know-it-all who tried to be Bill Hicks in my first year of comedy...much like the new kids in the Austin scene who try to be Louis CK already.

I know I wanted to be confident in my joke writing and my stage presence, and of course, I wanted to be famous. Was I sure I would be successful? Don't remember. Even in the late 90's I knew I didn't want to go to L.A. and do TV...I just wanted to do stand-up. And I wanted to be on the same bill as my favorite comics. I wanted to work with everybody I liked. I didn't want to work in a cubicle forever, and I wanted to live the nightlife. Sex, drugs, rock'n'roll.

So, thinking about that and flashing forward to now...how does my present compare to my imagined future of my past self? (Did you follow that? I almost lost me there.)

Well, like most of you, I'm not where I thought I'd be at all. I'm not rich, not famous...not earning a living by comedy alone.

I DID live the rockstar lifestyle for a while...without rockstar money, so I have a lot of debt and ruined credit and shit rental history. Addiction issues...broken relationships...some great stories, though...

Good memories. Great memories. Bad ones, of course.

I've been able to open for almost all of my favorite comics, including Louis CK in Seguin...for real. I was able to emcee for Hedberg.

I like who I am onstage. I like what I write and talk about now. I like that I don't slur my fucking punchlines anymore. I don't like being completely aware of the audience now, though. (Comedy would be so much better without all those...people...)

Definitely fine with not getting on the road. Glad I stayed in Austin. I wish I had been involved more when the scene here started to really break out. Wish I had saved all the shit I wrote on my damned website before it went tits up and I jumped to Myspace.

So yes...I'm not what I thought I would be. Not in a bad way...just different. Not completely different, however. I did what I wanted to do, for better or for worse.

I don't know how you feel about your life now when you reflect back to a younger you and your hopes for the future...but I hope it doesn't fill you with regret. We are the collection of our successes and failures, are we not? They make us who we are.

It makes me smile...when I think of myself trying to be like Hicks early on without all the life-changing experiences...without those successes and failures. We all know that Louie didn't get where he is overnight or with smooth sailing. We have to go through some shit to grow. Hopefully when we do, we're wiser and better for it.

If we had no pain, we would all be very blissful, very boring people.

How's That Working Out For You?

"Nothing's gonna put me out
It's backing down and under
I'm down on the upside now
It's turning back around
Turning back around."
-- Soundgarden "Dusty"


I don't know how to really write this out, so I am just going to type away. Bare with me.

I've been without a drink since last August, although my official sobriety date is September 12th, the day I turned myself in. While I have spent most of my clean time in custody and I now have a babysitter in the form of a semi-portable breathalizer, I am doing something I've never done before. I'm following my new principles and lifestyle change, and I'm sticking to my commitments. I'm working my ass off.

I'm not trying to pat myself on the back...I want to encourage anyone who reads this and wants to know how I'm doing it.

After half-assing 12-step programs on and off for years, it finally sank in that if I wouldn't do the work that my sponsor and other recovering addicts said I should, then I had better figure out some other way to change...or die. You see, I couldn't convince myself I was powerless. I just wanted to get fucked up and I didn't care. It was my choice every time. Also, I tried to over-intellectualize the addiction disease concept..."I think it's more of a disorder than a disease..." Yeah...I think it doesn't fucking matter how much or little power I have over my disease/disorder/ego. I think I need to change some shit. Now.

You hear in AA/NA rooms that you need to change people, places and things. I did that...but it was the same old me. I had to change my thinking. Completely.

That's...not easy to do. I started by trying to be positive all the time...which is hard in a Travis County treatment center. Faking positivity...I annoyed the hell out of myself.

Then I read "The Four Agreements" by Don Miguel Ruiz, and it gave me a simplified plan:

1. Be Impeccable with your Word.
2. Don't Take Anything Personally.
3. Don't Make Assumptions.
4. Always Do Your Best.

You can read expanded explanations of each online or in the book. These are not easy to do...but they are easy to remember. I reminded myself of these every morning and whenever I thought of them during the day. They led me to revisit Buddhist principles as well.

I need to remember these daily...keep my ego in check. I'm in a routine now, and it is easy to start slacking on the things I need to do to keep me on the path. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but that is how I know what I need to do. If there is something I don't want to do, that means I need to do it. "I don't want to go to a meeting. I guess I'm going to a meeting. Shit."

My biggest battle is not with desire to drink or do heroin...it's with my ego.  Wayne Dyer wrote Seven Steps for Overcoming Ego's Hold on You, which I also try to work on daily. Some of them are...um...difficult. I like to be right and to win. And I loooove feeling superior.

Here's a shot to my ego: I am currently successful with my sobriety due to all of my past failures. Yes, I do not recommend:
-- Going to treatment because you have lost everything, burned all bridges and you had nowhere else to go
-- Getting into a codependent relationship early in recovery even though you were advised against it
-- Eliminating the very last of your denial by being arrested even though you no longer drive, just drink
-- Being sent away for half a year so you have ample time to work on yourself

I really should right a "How-Not-To" book.

How am I doing it? It took me getting to a point where I felt I had no other choice. 

I hope that makes sense. 

I Am My Job

In response to my blog from 2011, I Am Not My Job.

Hey, John from 2011, you're still washing dishes. But you are comfortable with that.

Yes, I still find dishwashing to be Zen. However, my current job a little more interactive in the high-stress environment of a very busy kitchen. You have to be on the ball the entire shift. Full throttle.

After being at that job for almost 2 months now, I have to say: Sorry, Mr. Durden,  I am my job. From the moment I walk in the back door until I clock out, I am a dishwasher. My problems, my relationships, my history...I turn it all off when I turn off my phone. And then I dive right in.

I don't know if I would recommend a low paying physical manual labor job that leaves you with little cuts and burns to anyone...but I have absolutely zero stress at the end of the night. I leave, and I'm no longer my job. The kitchen is clean, my head is clear. No bullshit to take home. See you tomorrow.

My counselor in treatment was concerned when I stated I was going back to washing dishes. "Don't you want to aim higher?"

My first reaction was to say, "Well, I suppose I could try for a desk job somewhere, assuming I can explain to them why there's a 6-month gap in my employment. Good call, SMART Program. Rip us away from our jobs and residences for half a year and then say, 'get a job and a place to stay'."

I said, "We'll see where life takes me." Stupid level-headed sober me.

To my counselor and some concerned family members and friends: I'm aware that I'm very intelligent, and that I could probably obtain a higher level job, even with a felony DWI on my record. But, look...I'm not fucking Good Will Hunting, here. I'm not 17 and a math genius. I am almost 40 with addiction issues, a genuine distaste for cloth-covered boxes with fluorescent lighting in a micromanagement atmosphere and a renewed passion for the art of stand-up comedy. I am appreciative of this simple life, and I'm in no itching hurry to find a corporate ladder to climb.

I'd love to update my resume, but I think I'd rather go sit outside and watch the neighborhood squirrels and drink a cup of hot tea. Sounds more my speed at this stage of life.

Oh, and tonight I performed at the Velveeta Room for the first time in 3 years. When I'm on the stage, I am my job once again...I am a stand-up comedian. THE comedian.

...well, unless I'm bombing. Then I am THE comedian who SUCKS.

(I had a good set.)

I Take The Time To Properly Answer the "Religious Views" Field in My Facebook "About" Page

I attempt to adhere to the principles in Buddhism, such as the Four Noble Truths, Eightfold Path and the Precepts, and I guess my meditation practice resembles that of a Zen Buddhist.

However, I don't really dig the sangha aspect of that practice...the community...so I suppose I don't necessarily embrace the group practice of meditation. Sometimes I feel like it can be too much of showmanship or one's image. "Can I pretend to meditate longer than the bald guy next to me?" "Ooh, look at me, I'm going 'om'." That's not really the reason I have to calm my freakshow of a brain or why I do it.

And then there's certain Asian traditions I just don't go for, so I guess I'm part of the Western Reform movement? Sure, why not.

And shit, man, then there's Taoism...the wu wei, or effortless action. Yin and yang...natural dualities in and around us, two sides bound together to make a whole. How does that fit in to how I believe or who I am?

I can tell you that I will, more than likely until I die, flourish in nontheistic "religion", as I have yet to be completely comfortable with anyone's view of a god. I will leave myself open to new views, and I will at least pretend to be receptive to these new concepts. Deep down, I probably will just continue to not give a shit.

In summation, I would have to list my "religion" as: Agnostic Western Reform Zen Buddhist with Taoist Influence.

Happy, Facebook? And fuck off, I'm leaving "Political Views" blank.

Maybe. I still have 26 more blogs to go.

"No Fear?" "Fear?" "FEAR."

I was having a cigarette outside a few moments ago, contemplating what to write about...and debating on when I was going to attempt quitting smoking. Again. The guys here at the sober house told me that the same raccoon comes by every night, checks the outside trash can, occasionally the ash tray, then leaves. They said he was a very large raccoon.

We just met. That was a big fucking raccoon.

What was truly unnerving was not that he did just what the fellas said he would: strolled into the yard, went up on the porch, sniffed around, strolled off. It was that I was about 10 feet away, and he didn't give a shit. No fear. In disbelief, I actually asked him, "Seriously? I'm right here, man." He glanced at me and went about his business. Impressive.

What did you fear in the past that you've overcome or outgrown? What scares you today?

I used to be afraid of bees. At the rehab in San Antonio, there were a ton of them buzzing around the smoking area because the trash cans were always filled with soda cans. You had to either deal with them or not smoke. After 90 days, a bee could land on me and not generate a reaction. Now I find the sound of them fairly soothing.

Due to my control issues, I've always been a horrible passenger. If you've ever given me a ride somewhere in the past, I probably made you aware that while I was thankful for the lift, I thought you drove horribly and I was afraid for my life as I gripped your oh-shit handle.

I had to ask myself many times while I was in Travis County treatment, why do I have to be in control? Do I fear death or just the unexpected in general?

When you take a little trip to the edge and come back, you have to pause, I believe, and really try to grasp how you should be dead but you're not. Maybe that makes you thankful for your life. Or maybe it makes you less scared of dying. Or both. Or maybe you just go right back to doing whatever it is that sent you to the edge in the first place. C'est la vie.

There's some irony for you: I've had a borderline unhealthy obsession with Fight Club and yet the two things I needed to do were the biggest principles in the movie and book. Why yes, Tyler, I do need to quit trying to control everything and just let go. And I do need to let what does not matter truly slide.

I dislike feeling fear...as we all do. My immediate reaction now is to confront it when it hits me and challenge my own thinking and beliefs. Sometimes it works, sometimes...the fear resurfaces.

Maybe I over think my feelings at times, but I believe it's currently working for me. I think I'll continue.

My main fears a couple of months ago was being in Austin around familiar areas that would trigger memories and feelings, and disappointing my family. Thanks to Travis County Probation for being unoriginal and lazy...I was forced to confront past history, and I've been very successful with support from many of you. This also helps with that fear of disappointment as well...I'm not afraid of failing my family as long as I continue to do my best.

I don't know what I'm scared of today. I guess I'll discover in time. I do know, however, that I am intimidated by that freakshow raccoon. I'll get a picture next time. He'll probably not care.

Ghosts of Breathalyzers Past

On September 12, 2012, I turned myself in to Travis County, thinking I would be held in county jail for a couple of weeks and then put on an ankle monitor or given a portable breathalyzer. As we know, I left Del Valle six months later. My assumptions weren't completely off base, however. I did, in fact, have to obtain the Smart Start IN HOM device. Awesome.

I have three time windows to blow into the device every day: 5pm-8pm, 10pm-12am and the kicker, 5am-8am. There is a removable plastic nozzle that I put on the device, and blow into in during each of these time frames. When I do, there is a camera that takes a picture of me doing so. Take that, clever alcoholics! Science, bitch.

Once a month, I go to the company outsourced to deal with the likes of me and have them upload 30 days worth of recorded BAC levels (blood alcohol content) and pictures, and then they send all of that to my probation officer. That means, if he's up for it, he can browse through 90 pictures that look like this:

Disturbing, I know. Not as unsettling as the first picture I took where I actually was blowing into it. Now, I want everyone to see how long you can restrain your brain from making an off-color joke at my expense. Yeah, not long. I don't blame you. At least I only have to fellate the robot vacuum cleaner for 2 seconds at a time.

I had a breathalyzer on my car in the past 10 years twice...once for two years (late 2002 to 2004), and again from 2008 to the end of 2009, when I sold my car. The first breathalyzer had me blow into it for 3 seconds and then for 2 seconds I had to hum. It had a digital readout that let me know if the procedure was not followed properly. I saw it display everything from "blow harder" to "blow then hum". Once I thought it flashed "tickle the balls", but it was just my imagination. I think.

When I had the second one put on, I asked the guy at the shop, "Hey man, does this one have me hum when I blow and shit?"
"Oh no. It's much better than those old models. You just blow into it, then suck back real quick."
"Ah. Wait, what?"

This is not an improvement, sir. I don't think I like the evolution of this device. What's the next model going to have people do? "On this one, you need to blow into it and then reach around and put your finger in the hole in the back..."

My mother had a concern about me washing dishes and my latest alcohol monitor. She wondered if I handled glasses that had alcohol in them, and if it was possible for me to absorb some of the alcohol in my hands... No. I don't handle bar glasses, and even if I did, not a problem, I assure you. I told her that sounded like a flimsy excuse given to a probation officer as to why someone came up positive on their report.

Seriously, if anyone you know has a breathalyzer and they say they locked up their car because of mouthwash...they're full of shit. Hand sanitizer? Only if you were drinking it, freakshow. One guy in my group in treatment was a pathological liar...and he said he set off his breathalyzer because of taking Sudafed.
"Sudafed doesn't have alcohol in it, bro."
"Yeah, well, that's what happened, okay? You don't have to believe me!"
"Lighten up, Francis."

Three times a day, I am visited by these ghosts of breathalyzers past. My mind becomes flooded with bits and flashes of memories and past actions.

For a short time at the beginning, I would park my vehicle at friends' places so I could go downtown, drink, do comedy and whatever. I would then crash on the couch of these friends, and then leave the next day when I was sober enough to start my truck.

I would call in late to work occasionally because my BAC was too high in the morning, and I failed. Turns out you can do this repeatedly on misdemeanor probation as long as you're up-to-date on payments.

Felony probation is a different matter. The one year anniversary of my best friend's death had me car bombing my way into hot water with Travis County in 2009. I still couldn't start the car at 3pm the next day. I had to do an outpatient treatment program due to that. Ironically, I was a full-blown heroin addict at the time, so I rarely drank. But there I was in alcohol classes.

I think about these moments...and I am relieved at how easy probation is when you're not trying to get away with shit. If you're not a junkie, drug tests are cake. If you're not trying to drink just after 10pm so you can be sober again at 7:55am to blow into the fucking thing, it's barely a hassle. Hell, I'm a night owl. I get home at 1 or 2 in the morning after work, and after winding down and eating, it's 3am. The IN HOM gives me a reason to stay up until 5am, and because of it, 3-5 is my time to write/blog. So...thanks, Smart Start?

Fuck that.

I will, however, say thank you, Smart Start for advancing your technology to using a camera instead of making me jump through innuendo-laden hoops as I exhale into your equipment. Let me know when you have an android app and an attachment for my phone.