2017: The Year That Was...

When I finished up with 2016, it didn't exactly end with a "bang." It was more like a loud "THUD." Maybe you could throw in the gaspy, wheezy sounds of someone having an asthma attack or something. The START of 2016 seemed really promising. I was in my first coordinator position for the OU College of Medicine, complete with a handsome salary and my own office. However, my year was marred by a series of unfortunate choices (made by me) and the icky consequences that I faced because of them. I ENDED 2016 with a half-assed attempt to stop my self-destructive decisions and instead turned my attention to trying to put myself back together and give another "go" at a "normal life." In order to do that, the first thing that I had to do was to get back to work. Even though I applied MANY places, I came back empty-handed time and time again. Around Thanksgiving, I was finally offered a job. Although it wasn't somewhere glamorous or prominent. The only job I could manage to find was as a "sales associate" for the Dollar General Corporation of America. Oh well... better than nothing.

I started out as a coordinator for a prestigious university and ended as a cashier at a discount convenience store. If that's not a perfect example of what alcoholism and addiction can do to you, I'm not sure what is.

So, I pretty much started 2017 with a blank slate. A clean piece of paper. I was a big blob of clay ready to be molded. I'd LIKE to say that 2017 was a beacon of light in comparison to 2016 and that I became a "new man" who completely put himself back together. Sadly, the "work in progress" portion of my story wasn't over yet. Now, don't get me wrong, the year had plenty of bright spots that I am eternally grateful for, it just wasn't the year that I was hoping for when the clock struck midnight on January 1, 2017.

I thought I was making positive strides at the beginning of the year when I was given the life-changing (yes, sarcasm) promotion to LEAD sales associate at Dollar General. It was more or less a managerial position, just without a real significant increase in pay or benefits or anything. I got a shiny key to the cash register and didn't have to bug managers to make "important" decisions... like whether or not Darla (or whoever) needed a receipt to make an exchange because she bought the wrong kind of deodorant.

My time in the pseudo-not-so-managerial position with the "General" was short, as I was offered an even BETTER opportunity. This one actually piqued my interest and got me excited (no, not sarcasm) about the potential. A neighbor and friend of Mom's helped get me the inside track with the Dean McGee Eye Institute working in their glaucoma clinic at the front desk. The pay was a little bit better and it offered benefits. The main thing was that it put me back in an office/clerical/administrative position where I feel the most comfortable. It was a position where I could feel like an adult, rather than working with kids at the local "DG."

DMEI was far from perfect, but I did manage to find my own little niche there. I met some amazing people and got to the point where I was pretty damn good at my job. For the most part, I loved working with patients and helping people. I was able to car-pool again with Mom. It had good benefits that helped with my prescriptions and what-not. But my attitude and mindset were in the wrong space and I was set on demonizing that place and would NOT allow myself to be happy. Had things been different, I could've easily stayed there and put myself in a spot to continue to grow there.

There near the end, I was even making strides to where I could begin to make some decisions for my life. Do I want to STAY at DMEI, attempt some sort of growth and promotion within the company? Or stay there while I go back to school? Or should I go ahead and find another career opportunity that pays better with better potential for growth? Oddly enough, life handed me what was behind "door number four" that I didn't even notice. I'm (obviously) no longer at DMEI, not going back to school (yet) and while I'm grateful for my current job, this isn't a position that will be a long-term career. So, it's door number four! It's odd to think about how that fourth door is turning out to be an odd blessing in disguise.

One of the biggest changes in my life in 2017 was the addition of this girl named Megan. We met through a harmless dating app and chatted for a little while. We had our first date in June, I took her to Hollie's (a steak place where we ate cheeseburgers.) Despite minor differences (she's a little more "country," I'm a little more "rock and roll,") we seem to be a perfect fit. We've enjoyed everything from going to the Friday Night Art Walk in the Paseo to binge-watching seasons of "The 100," "Game of Thrones," "The Walking Dead" and "Top Gear" on Netflix. Throw in Pizza Shuttle to any occasion and the two of us are more than happy. It was odd how suddenly, after a few weeks of just hanging out and spending time together, it was just like "whoa... I love this girl."

All of that happiness with Megan was before November 13th. When THAT night happened well over a month ago, she had two options she could've taken. The first option was to check out and say "no thanks, I didn't sign up for this." She would've been TOTALLY justified to make that decision. The other option was "Ok. I'm not a FAN of this situation, but I'm going to stick it through and help out." I'm SO blessed that she made that decision. Not only has she stuck by MY side, she's become so much closer and has helped my parents out as well. She's walked together WITH them through this ordeal. I look forward to graduating from here and joining them in the "real world," because I know that THEY are going to be close, and it's not just an act of "oh I'm just friendly because she's my son's girlfriend" type of situation...

Because FIRSTEP only allows people with 30+ days of residency here to leave on a pass, and Christmas Day was day 28, I didn't get to have the "traditional" Christmas at home. I had originally planned to use my FIRST pass on New Year's Day, go home to see the fam and watch the OU game. The director had different plans, apparently saying that it was a safety issue and he wanted to avoid sending the guys out there on a holiday that is predominantly known for drinking and partying. I don't necessarily agree... but part of this program is listening to people in charge and following directions. I work until 1:00PM and then will have some visitors for a bit. Later, we're supposed to run to the store and pick up some stuff for a little get-together in our dorm. It'll just be snacks, games, movies and more snacks. As long as I can get a nap in there somewhere, I'll be a happy camper. Being "open and willing" is allowing me to be somewhat excited or intrigued for another non-traditional holiday.

So, here we are, end of the road for 2017...

There are a handful of things that I wish I could've done differently, but now that I look back, I'm glad that it happened the way that it did. There were some "up's" and some total "down's," but all-in-all, I'm still alive. I feel hopeful about my future. Wait. I take that back. At the end of 2016, I felt hopeful. It was kind of a "come on, man, 2017 can't be THAT bad, right?!" As I'm winding down the last 17-ish hours of the year, I'm not only HOPEFUL... but I'm actually EXCITED. Everything is in place for a great year. I'm hopeful for the good times, I'm learning the tools to take on the not-so-good-times and I'm ready to experience everything in between...

Happy New Year!!! 

- JC -

The Christmas That Wasn't...

I apologize for the dramatic title, but it's true. But, before you get bent out of shape, let me explain what I meant...

We've molded together some simple, yet important holiday traditions throughout my lifetime. December rolls around and there is the annual Christmas light tour. It usually consists of Mom and me, but sometimes Nick decides to join in on the holiday fun, hopping in the car to grab some hot cocoa and see how people (beautifully or totally tacky) decorate the outsides of their homes. Both "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" AND "A Christmas Story" have to be watched at LEAST once by the end of December 25th. This year has worked out a bit differently, and neither of these happened. I did have a chance to go look at Christmas lights in Chickasha with the guys of FIRSTEP, but it just didn't feel right. Also, I had the two ultimate holiday movies, but I just couldn't do it. I didn't think either of these things would feel right without MY people around.

On Christmas Eve, we have THE important gathering of the season. Usually held at my house (aka the parents' house), everyone gets together and partakes in the stuffing of our faces with not-so-traditional Christmas foods. Your family has turkey and dressing. OUR family has stromboli and various snacks and goodies. Once we're miserably full, we sit around and talk and whatever while the kids play. It's not a Cuomo holiday unless a fun pseudo-argument breaks out about some silly issue like when Hannukah begins. After a while, we watch as the kids open up their presents and play around before everyone has to get home before Santa.

This year, I had to work in the office most of Christmas Eve. It was a blessing in disguise, that kept me busy since I didn't get to go home. In the morning, the office was abuzz with people coming in to add their names to the church list and the regular dispensing of medicines. However, it was a little bit busier than usual. On top of the lists and the medicines, we had the staff handing out Christmas presents to the residents who had kids AND the eligible residents checking out on their 24-hour Christmas passes AND people checking in for visitation. Lots and lots of people in a tiny space makes for a hectic morning! I took a little break around 1:00PM when Megan and Turtle BOTH came to visit me. It was awesome. :-) Technically, I should've been "off" at 1:00 but the two other ROD's were out on their passes, so I came back to help in the evening. My Christmas Eve wrapped up at about 9:00PM as I walked back to the dorm and called it a night.

Christmas Day has become so relaxed and downright decadent, I love it. We get to sleep in, which after a crazy Christmas Eve, is usually necessary. As we begin to stir, the parents make their coffee. I start to drink that super-amazing-rich chocolate milk. We dive headfirst into our stockings and then go by the usual ceremony of opening our gifts. We eat a VERY tasty breakfast of eggs, peppered bacon and cinnamon rolls. We lounge around for a bit before eventually getting cleaned up and heading to the Warren Theater for a movie. If we're LUCKY, something is playing in one of the director's suites. After the movie, we return to the super strenuous (not) activity of lounging around before we fall asleep to the happiness of another successful Christmas.

THIS year, I woke up to a nearly empty dorm. Most of the dorm was out on pass, only four or five other guys remained behind for various reasons. In the chow hall, Jonas fixed a variety of tasty things for breakfast...eggs, pancakes, biscuits and sausage gravy (technically it was "shit on a shingle") and was also hard at work to fix us a traditional Christmas dinner. By the time an early Christmas dinner was ready, about 20 or so of the guys had returned from their pass and they ALL jumped on the turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, etc. as if they had never seen food before. Mom and Nick weren't there yet and I was honestly concerned that it would be all gone by the time they got there! I had to take pre-emptive action to save the last three dinner rolls. Despite my previous worries, there was still plenty of food. Instead of fancy china, we had our Christmas dinner on metal lunch trays. It was still pretty darn tasty and very filling. Mom and Nick stayed for a nice visit and dropped off plenty of Christmas snacks that was leftover from the Cuomo Christmas Eve celebration the night before.

After the parents left, I went up to the office to help out some more. As soon as Kenneth returned, he let me go back to the dorm for the rest of the day. I relaxed and got settled in before dinner, which was basically "fend for yourself." While most people had sandwiches and stuff, I reheated some leftover stromboli and I received PLENTY of jealous looks from my dorm-mates. After dinner, a gentleman named Steve was nice enough to take time out of his Christmas to bring us a meeting. When that wrapped up, we all made the brisk track (it was cold!) to our dorms... tired after a happy and sober Christmas.

So, this was FAR from the "usual" Christmas season. When I first learned that I wasn't going to be able to make it home for Christmas Eve or Day, I went into full-on pout mode. I could kinda understand the reasoning behind the decision to not let me go home, but I thought that they could've bent the rules a wee little bit. I've had nearly a month to come to grips with the decision and move on from it. Would I RATHER have had the option of having my "traditional" Christmas versus the FIRSTEP version? Of course. But FIRSTEP is helping me achieve something that I couldn't achieve for myself and that is hope that a lifetime of long-term sobriety is an actual possibility. It's helping me ensure that there will be many more happy Christmases in the future. I foresee plenty of Christmas lights, peppered bacon, chocolate milk and lounging around with my FAMILY. So, in essence, this definitely could be considered the "Christmas that wasn't." But, looking back at it now, I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing...

The TRUTH Behind the Coin...

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm one of those weirdly sentimental people. The type of person that hates trading in my car, because of the "history" we've had... like I might hurt its feelings or something. After my old dog Larry ate my Easter candy one year, I BAWLED and cried in anger and frustration. It wasn't because I was a fat kid and my dog ate my candy, it was because of the fact that Mom didn't have a whole lot of money but still spent that money on candy and treats so that I would have a happy Easter. Certain things and events have meaning to them.

As far as sentiments go, I have an interesting history with the coins that I've gotten from Alcoholics Anonymous. Everything from that "desire" chip that doesn't have to be earned to those monthly chips. I think the biggest chip I've ever gotten was 11 months. It was just short of a year. If I want to look back at the biggest chip I've ever gotten while working an HONEST program... I'm honestly not sure. Whatever coin it was that I had in my pocket, it made a different "jingle" than just a regular coin you'd get out of a cash register. I'd hear that specific noise and it would refocus me on to AA. It would cause me to remember that, whether it was a 24-hour chip or a monthly chip, that if I can stay sober today I will have ANOTHER one of those chips to add to the collection.

There were times in the program that I liked the attention that came from standing up in front of the crowd and receiving a coin as they clapped for your achievement. Other times, I preferred to be a little more discreet. I'd either prefer to get my coin in a smaller meeting, sometimes I didn't get one at all. Usually, those were the times that I was kinda scraping the bottom, barely making it. I didn't feel worthy of standing in front of a crowd and receiving praise for a "job well done." Sometimes it was a legitimate feeling because I knew I wasn't working an honest program. There were other times that it was just another example of how I wasn't reaching out for help.

One time, when I had one of those "I really don't feel like getting my chip in front of people" moments, my sponsor Shannon shared an interesting perspective that I still remember today. I was thinking that the receiving of a sobriety chip was a way to congratulate me and give me praise for a job well done. Shannon suggested that, while there is definitely some positive affirmation to getting a chip in public, it is not the SOLE purpose of that ceremony. He talked about the fact that there can always be a brand new (or at least more new than I am) person to the program sitting in one of the seats. When that person sees someone stand up and get a monthly token, it is a sign of hope to that person that says "wow! There is an example of a person who is working the program and has made it that far! I think I can do it too!" It definitely made me feel a little selfish, but it made complete sense and is something I will try and remember from here on out.

My one month of sobriety came and went and I still haven't gotten a chance to go to a meeting to get my chip. By the time I have the next opportunity, it'll be nearly a month and a half. It was kind of frustrating at first, but then it just felt silly to get upset by it. We have a case here in the office for all of the chips. I grabbed a 24-hour coin as well as my one month. They're both jingling around in my pocket. These particular coins will be for me and will serve as a reminder. I definitely plan on earning many more of these bad boys, so maybe the NEXT one can serve as that sign of hope for a person who is new to the rooms of AA...

Frothy, Emotional Appeal...

The "Big Book" of Alcoholics Anonymous states that when it comes to reaching out to the alcoholic and imploring them to seek out help, "Frothy emotional appeal seldom suffices." If it is going to have any effect on us whatsoever, it needs to have some "depth and weight" to it. Before I faced mounting legal issues, dangerous health scares, mounting debt and a declining reputation at both work and school, THIS should've been a huge red flag to me that something was horribly wrong. Those of you who know me, know that I like to consider myself a compassionate and empathetic person. I'm a big softy and I'm DEFINITELY a big momma's boy. But as soon as alcohol came into play, I became cold and careless. I didn't care about myself, why would I care about you?

Dictionary.com defines frothy as "unsubstantial, trifling, shallow, empty." TOTALLY not what I thought it meant. I thought of something that's bubbling and boiling. So I thought of an emotional appeal that was a little more hot, intense. It caused me to have flashbacks of tearful pseudo-interventions, angry conversations and the downright fights that caused me (or someone else) to storm out of the house. All of those methods worked... at least, for a little while. I remember, on numerous occasions, feeling those deep and awful feelings of remorse and self-hatred. What I WASN'T feeling was that "digging in and standing my ground" feeling of "yes, I WILL quit drinking right now!" It was a more mediocre feeling of "yeah, I know I NEED to quit, but..."

Being raised solely by my Mom and being the youngest of three, I became super duper close to her at a young age. I was your somewhat stereotypical momma's boy. When I learned that the term "momma's boy" was actually considered a BAD thing, I kinda shrugged my shoulders and said "meh." For the most part, I took what she said SUPER seriously. She never lied to me (for the most part... I'll choose to look past the whole "telling me everything tastes like macaroni and cheese issue") and so I took everything she said as gospel. Her opinion totally mattered. I wasn't one of those kids who had to be spanked or punished severely into submission. All she had to do was look at me with those big eyes and say softly "John, I'm so disappointed in you right now..." and I would crumble like a house of cards.

Alcohol replaced all of that compassion and empathy. As much as it pains me to say this, it even replaced the respect and care I had for my Mom. Over the last seven years, I've had plenty of conversations with "angry Mom" after I've relapsed. Angry Mom never lasts for long, I know that she just needs to get it out of her system and, before long, she's just fine. I know that she's going to love me no matter what. What REALLY bothered me was those conversations with Mom as tears would well up in her eyes. She'd softly ask me "why?" I've had more of those conversations than I care to count. Here recently, I would talk with her about how we're feeling and what-not. She'd be having a rough day and say something along the lines of how one of the only things keeping her together was knowing I was sober. I'd hear this, knowing that I had a bottle stashed away somewhere or knowing that I had nowhere near the amount of sobriety that she thought I had. It crushed me to know that I was just one simple truth away from her bring her world down crumbling. I felt horrible. Those feelings of self-hatred would swell up inside me. The only way I could keep them from taking over was to dive back into that bottle and wipe away every single feeling I had.

I long to return to a place where I am compassionate and feel empathy for people. I will care deeply about emotional appeals. I can only get back there if I continue to work on this program of recovery. It will start by getting to a place where I'm no longer consumed by the feelings of self-loathing. In order to do that, I'll have to dive into the steps head-first. Hopefully, before long, I'll be working steps 4 and 5 with my sponsor, followed by identifying character defects in step 6. I'll pray to have those defects removed. Then I can go on to the important act of going and making amends with people. I know far too many people who I ignored their tearful emotional appeals, whether they were frothy or otherwise...

Home...

As a fat and angsty teenager, I identified with this one particular scene in the movie "Garden State." Natalie Portman and Zach Braff talk about how "even though you have someplace where you can put your shit, the idea of home is gone. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't exist." Looking back at that time, I'm not exactly sure WHY I felt like that... maybe it was "cool" to feel like you have that disconnect. It's difficult to maintain legitimate angsty-ness if you turn around and admit to people that you still feel at home... who even says they actually "like their family?!?!"

The older that I got, the clearer my goal became: to move far, far away from Oklahoma City. I was going to live the big city life, I was going to have culture, I was going to be COOL and I was going to be accepted. That was just the thing, I wasn't sure of who I was and I was afraid that once I found out for sure, that people were going to reject me. It was a pretty safe bet because, where I felt like I belonged and what I felt was an integral part of my identity was not something that was very widely accepted in my part of the country. So, even though they were about as accepting as possible, my family and my home were lumped into that category with everyone else and I just had to get away.

In February of 2012, I finally made the big jump. Well... not BIG...but just across the river to Dallas. It was big enough and distant enough to make me feel like I was being independent. BUT it was also close enough where I could still come home on a fairly regular basis to see my family. I got established with a job that paid fairly decently as well as a place of my own. I made some new friends as well as a new serious-ish relationship. However, it didn't take long for me to realize that this wasn't for me. I liked... no, loved Oklahoma far more than I realized. Not only did I love my family, but I even liked and enjoyed them. The move to Dallas was short. My life pretty much imploded in on itself and I moved back to Oklahoma City in November of the same year. I never looked back. I don't regret the time there because it gave me a true appreciation for my home. 

Fast forward FIVE years later... this will be the first year that I'm away from my home for Christmas. I'm actually going to miss being in a house crammed full of family and kiddos, enjoying the loud and crazy times. I'll miss that tradition of enjoying a quiet(er) Christmas morning with the parents and my paranoid bulldog. Our roles were usually reversed, usually, it's the kid that wakes the parents up. Mom and Nick would make Emma mark until it woke me up. We'd do stockings, presents and a gluttonous breakfast. Eventually, we'd get cleaned up and make the trek over to the Warren and see our annual movie. I'm DEFINITELY going to miss that.

This year will be an interesting break in the tradition. Since I can't come home for Christmas day, Mom and Nick are actually going to come out to see me at FIRSTEP. Apparently, they fix a pretty dang good holiday meal and families are welcome to join. Sadly, Emma will have to stay at home LOL. I'm hopeful and set on the idea that this, however, will NOT become a tradition. This will be the last time that I will have to miss Christmas under these circumstances. I understand their reasoning for keeping me here since I will be just short of the 30-day minimum required for a pass when the 25th rolls around. This is part of the process that is going to ensure that, even though I'm missing just ONE Christmas for this purpose, that it is going to help me succeed in having MANY happy and sober Christmases to come.

I hope THEY are ready. I've made a promise to Mom, Megan and Nick that I'm going to be so annoyingly cheerful and Christmas-y next year that they'll probably get tired of me. I'm going to take advantage of ALL that the season has to offer. I hope that I'll be in the position financially to provide Christmas gifts for people, but even if I can't... I definitely know now and appreciate the fact that Christmas is more than just the gifts (corny, I know) and that I know EXACTLY where my home is...

30 Days and Counting...

The best I can recollect, the day before seems like it was something straight out of one of those indie drama movies that I'm so fond of where EVERYTHING goes wrong and the good guys don't necessarily win in the end. But on November 14th, I was blessed to get to wake up to another day. I got to wake up from my own bed. I had already made the decision myself, but I had a serious (yet compassionate) conversation with my parents about what I was going to do next. Mom handed me the little scrap of paper with two numbers written on it. One was to "The Recovery Center," a facility that helps with medically supervised detoxification for people who suffer from alcohol and drug abuse issues.The other was a number for a place called "FIRSTEP Men's Recovery Program," a facility located in southeast Oklahoma City that provides a 6-24 month rehabilitation program for men who want/need to overcome their addiction. I made the calls and started the ball in motion to hopefully never have to experience a day like November 13th ever again.

I had heard horror stories about going through detox, especially while at TRC. The experience for me was actually pleasant. I definitely know that was because of the fact that my health insurance hadn't been discontinued yet. One of MANY blessings that I've experienced in the last month. I only had to stay with them for 5 days before I was released on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. The next day (Monday), I went with my parents to take a tour of the FIRSTEP facilities. They were nice and reminded me of a Summer church camp. After taking the tour, Alex (who was a resident and fellow alcoholic) let me know that they would have an opening for me the following Monday. That gave me a week to get all my ducks in a row and to enjoy some time with family and friends. I had plenty of credit cards, student loans, car loans and other miscellaneous crap to handle before going into the program. I made sure to check them all of my list as I completed them, I wanted to make sure that I didn't have any "outside" worries or stressors hanging over my head when I came to FIRSTEP. I wanted to make sure that my mind would be clear and ready to take on this whole "sobriety" thing head on and full steam.

If you would've asked me on November 27th how I felt, I would've spewed out all sorts of negative adjectives and claimed that this was probably one of the worst things to ever happen to me. Looking back at it, it was pretty much just nerves. The "intake" process is kind of jarring - from filling out a stack of paperwork that is like an inch thick (or it seems like it!) to wearing over-sized scrubs while your clothing gets checked for bed bugs - and it's not a whole lot easier, going from the comfy life that I was living to willingly spend six months in a dorm full of 40 other guys. But every single guy that I met was MORE than nice. Guys of all different ages, shapes, sizes and backgrounds... they were all incredibly compassionate and ready to help me anyway I might've needed. So I stuck around. One day turned into two days, which turned into a week and so on...

Time has managed to fly by. They have me working in their office as a "Resident On Duty." I've made a lot of friends and met a lot of great guys. I have an actual "regular" journal that I have written in SO much since I've been here. I'm so aware of my thoughts and feelings and they just manage to pour out on to those pages. Now that I'm in front of a computer on a fairly regular basis, I can update on here as well. It'll give me something to look back at years from now and remember what it was like. I'll remember all of those awesome memories as well as some of those not-so-awesome ones and how I handled them.

I've only been a "client" (I prefer the term resident) of FIRSTEP for 18 days, but yesterday marked ONE MONTH of sobriety for me. I've managed to not drink for periods of 30 days or more in the past, but considering it actual "sobriety" is a stretch. I feel as if I'm actually WORKING a program. I'm physically, mentally and spiritually aware of AA from the moment they wake us up at 5:00AM (which takes some getting used to) to the moment they call for "lights out" at 10:30PM. I'm not doing it for Mom (although, her happiness IS a positive side effect) and I'm not doing it for Megan or anyone else. I'm doing this for ME...