Something really cute happened Saturday at paintballing. Bambino is an only child and so hubby’s two boys aren’t just the jackpot win and massive cherry on top for me, but also for Bambino who ended up with two older brothers as part of the deal. Now, the fiery temper and short fuse in our modern day family portrait are largely catered for by yours truly. Hubby is the most well balanced and measured person in the world. I’ve never seen him lose his rag or freak out. Get angry? Sure, but VERY rarely and never in a scary or disproportional way. Things just don’t rumble him, the whole world could be on fire and he would stay pretty chilled and calmly work out how to approach the problem in a logical and rational manner. My bonus sons aren’t hot heads either, clearly a perfect mix of their chilled dad and gentle mum. Yesssssssssssss she’s nice. There, I said it. *sigh* Hubby’s ex-wife is quite lovely. Divorce doesn’t bring out the best in anyone and yes there are stunts that were pulled that I’ll never understand, but the past is the past and when she isn’t busy with warfare and destroying her ex-husband, she is very sweet. Anyway!
There they were, deep into their last game of paintball and suddenly Bambino gets into an open area and is pelted with shots. As instructed, he holds his hand up to signal he’s been shot and therefore out, but some guy kept shooting at him. Now, the rest kind of happened in slow motion. Bonus #1 loses his shit. He stomps over in a few furious strides, shoves Bambino in behind him and tears the guy a new arsehole.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? HE HAD HIS HAND UP! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL SHOOTING AT HIM, HE’S A KID!”
I can tell you this much – the reason why I teared up a little wasn’t because someone hit my kid with a few paintballs.
And what does this have to do with sobriety? The answer: everything. This is an example of the feels, and when you’re sober you get to feel everything at maximum capacity and in technicolour, surround sound too. It’s pretty cool. Drunk Me would have been touched at Bonus #1’s brotherly display towards my son too, but my emotions would have been muddled and slippery and not vibrant and focused like they are when I’m sober.
Something just came over me. I never considered myself a masochist but I did this – precisely this – the last time hubby was away as well. I looked out of the window just now and it’s yet another one of those beautiful autumn days that I love so much. I’m feeling happy and free and at peace. Hubby away and now would traditionally be JUST the sort of time I’d be excited about drinking. Why do I do this? I quite literally just deliberately tried to feel – or remember how it used to feel – excited about having a drink. I deliberately just tried to make myself feel it. What fucking sort of Russian Roulette did I just come up with? Gosh, that was a risky little exercise! Make no mistake – I don’t think for a second that I’ll ever be “cured” or safe from alcoholism. Even having worked so hard at understanding what alcohol was for me and taking it all apart, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to declare I conquered the Beast. I may have fought it off but it’s alive and kicking and I’ll always have to keep an eye on it. Random, but that’s what just happened in my head and all it took was for me to look out the window and see what a beautiful day it is. So many reasons to let it remain a beautiful day and the good news is that at this stage it would seem that even when I try to play with fire, my brain won’t quite accept that drinking would be a good idea. Phew. That was a really, really stupid thing to do.
Does anyone else do this? Deliberately tempt fate?
Near to where my mother lives is a little power station. It’s got that sort of huge barrier mechanism that opens and closes to control the water flow, basically it’s a dam. Fuck me, I think about this now and it actually makes me go a little cold. I recall it’s time controlled but I could be wrong – I don’t know if it opens automatically at set times or if someone has to get down there to do it – but that’s almost what makes it worse because we didn’t know at the time when it might open. We used to, with terror tingling our spines, crawl across the top of it. Had it opened when one of us was on it, we would have been swept down by a crushing mass of water into the stony river bed far below. Other times we climbed down the river bank and hopped along the stones in the shallow water. Had it opened when we were down there that would have ended badly also. Shit, it makes me shiver to think about it. Almost as stupid as an alcoholic deliberately trying to conjure up romantic illusions of booze.
Well. I guess that was today’s display of utter madness from me. Anyone else engaging in really fucking stupid behaviour on this fine Tuesday, I wonder?
Today I’m not going to drink.