It's funny what you will and wont share on your blog. I will blather all day about uncomfortable topics such as my mental illness or alcoholism, but shy away from mentioning something as simple as a car accident in which it wasn't my fault. Yes, I had a fender bender yesterday when an elderly lady who tore through a red light and hit me. My car only suffered minor damage, but the police wrote me a citation for not having current proof of insurance. I was sure I had those papers in my glove box, but couldn't find them. C'est lie vie as they say. It could have been a lot worse.
After the accident, I continued on with my plans to make it to that Alcoholics Anonymous meeting and was glad I did. It was a large and bustling group full of good folks and good conversation. Much coffee was drank and many tales of past deeds while drinking was shared.
"Hi, my name is Andrew and I am an alcoholic," I finally said, shyly.
"Hello, Andrew," the group responded.
"I almost didn't make it today due to an accident and I am glad I did. I believe it was an act of God and his will."
I felt so strange saying that about God. As if I had done something wrong or committed heresy. I didn't realize my lack of belief was so fervent and ran so strong. It was a very strong, emotional moment for me that I will remember for a very long time. I actually admitted to a group of people that I believed in God and it felt so... strange. I felt like the group wouldn't believe me and as if I was lying. It was very much akin to a spiritual moment and I had a small window of spiritual clarity and awakening. There is hope for me yet! Maybe I can wake up from this long slumber of spiritual darkness.
The evening found my mother over at the house. As I have often said, we use each other as our psychotherapists.
"Mom, do you dread things?" I asked her.
"Oh, something terrible," she said. "I have the biggest panic attacks having to go see your grandmother twice a week. She drives me crazy."
I laughed. My grandmother can drive the most mentally competent soul insane. I hate to say it, but I kind of resent her for the way she has treated my mother over the years and shy away from her.
"I dread things, too," I told her. "I got in the shower yesterday and thought I couldn't make it. I broke down crying and sat naked in the tub. I wondered how 'normal' people do it."
"Your father makes it look so easy, doesn't he?" mom asked.
"Yes, he does," I responded.
I gave my mother a big hug as she was stepping outside my door to leave.
"Thanks for being a mother and a friend," I told her.
"I love you and you hang in there. Let's hope it gets better," she replied.
Thus concludes my day.