Dementia of Another Kind
Don’t mean “dementia,” really, which is a medical term. What I really mean is “dementedness,” which for me is when people act like they’re nuts. (“Nuts” is not a psychiatric diagnosis, to be sure — but I’m not a psychiatrist.) Crazy, demented.
So, as the picture shows, stormy weather is always a possibility, and stormy times have to be gone through. A good friend of mine, Bill, called about an hour ago, drunk and at home (again–this seems to happen every few weeks or so). Tough talking to him when he’s all slurry, and just making an excuse and hanging up isn’t really an option — he needs some help, and the least I can do is talk to him for half an hour. And that’s what I did. (And now it’s the next morning, and I talked to him again — he’s a little better today.)
Upsetting when this happens, but it reminds me of all the times that my friends and family had to deal with me when I was in my cups, large and small. (Or I imagine they did — no memory of it.)
So I took my dog Siouxie for a walk, then called another friend in the program, Tom, when I got back. He knows Bill pretty well, Twelfth-Stepped him once, understands and sympathizes. Good to talk with Tom — I see him 4 or 5 times a week at meetings, we usually talk (sometimes for quite awhile), but this is the first time I’ve phoned him. Maybe it’s good for me to talk to another alcoholic, whether he’s drunk or sober; maybe it’s good for me to reach out and ask for help.
The blessing here is that God gives me the opportunity to help others, which is a way of helping me.