Eating Myself Out Of House and Home…

I was having such a tough day yesterday addiction wise. I had to use one of my emergency packs of cigarettes from the freezer I was smoking so much. That’s the second time this week I’ve had to do that. I couldn’t quit eating – eating a whole pack of ice cream bars over the course of the afternoon. My house is messy as well and needs tidying up. It is really getting on my nerves. I ate a gigantic 1000 calorie $24 dollar Maverick ribeye steak at Longhorn (the calories are on the menu). I was so frustrated with myself – my seeming lack of self control.

Then, I had to think to myself how blessed I am. We all have bad days. I have Maggie, my dearest. I have a paid for home to come to every night. There was a time I was sleeping in a tent in the woods – no home to call my own hopeless, hungry, and cold. I have a very comfortable and warm bed to sleep in. I also have a very nice and dependable car these days. I guess it is all relative – my addiction problems that is. Maybe today will be a better day food wise and cigarette wise. I did get in a long bike ride last night after I had returned home. I was huffing and puffing coming up the hill to my house at the end of my ride sounding like a steam engine pulling a heavy load.

Home of the Big Breakfast...

I got up at 6:30 AM and drove over to my father's house to get my one Benadryl and a pack of smokes. Yes, we are down to one Benadryl which is such a momentous occasion! It is rather amazing when I think about it. It makes me nervous as hell, but it was my idea to quit. My brain still craves diphenhydramine to a degree. Dad had left them in a Ziploc bag to thwart the rain on the back porch for me. He didn't want me to call and wake him up too early. Samantha wanted inside so badly, but I had to leave her hanging literally from the screen on the back porch screen door.

Maggie was pooped out this morning as she lay on the cool kitchen floor and I got some breakfast started. She was laying on her side when I started frying the bacon and soon was underfoot when the smell of that bacon began to waft through the kitchen and the rest of the house. The smell of percolating coffee has a very similar effect on us humans. I scrambled some eggs and made some very buttery cheese toast. Breakfast must have been a thousand calories this morning.

Charlie will be along in about two hours. I couldn't wait for Charlie to arrive I was so ravishingly hungry when I awoke. I will drink the Coke he brings and then put the biscuits in the fridge to be warmed up later in the day or tomorrow. I know one animal around here who will be able to pack in one more bit of breakfast. Maggie will eat the sausage patty and go bury the biscuits in the backyard as they are not her forte.

Maggie's Arch Nemesis Arrived...

There is one thing that gets Maggie's panties in a twist more than any other thing. It is the meter reader. All our meters, except the water meter, are on the back of my house within the fence. Maggie wasn't brave today and it tickled me. She stood at the dog door with her head stuck out and barked viciously for about 30 minutes. A big smile formed on my face and I started to laugh at Maggie's timidness. The meter reader exited out of the fence on the other side of the house and Maggie tore out the dog door viciously barking with new found courage. Usually, Maggie is trying to nip at his heels as he brandishes a big stick and fights her off. I usually try to shut the dog door, but he is on foot and I don't hear the gate open in time.

I Missed the Early Worm...

Maggie and I both woke much later than usual at 9:30 AM this morning. We were in the bed around 8 PM last night so we got lots of good sleep. Sleep is such a wonderful thing if you are prone to insomnia like me. I have felt really blessed these past two weeks to be getting a good night's sleep.

I scrambled some eggs and made cheese toast this morning. Mrs. Camille's words echoed in my mind of her astonishment about how many eggs I buy a week. Dad will roll his eyes and say my cholesterol is probably higher than hell.

I then got on Facebook to see what everyone was up to this morning and overnight. I am dabbling in it again, but it can be overwhelming for someone as sensitive as me. I no longer write about my personal life on Facebook. I save that for my blog where I have a smidgen of anonymity. I do immensely enjoy all the model railroading pages on Facebook, though, and can spend an hour looking at them.

Addictions Be Gone...

I am wearily tired of being addicted to things.

• For a few weeks, I was addicted to over the counter flu remedy. I would drink two little cups every morning and get a buzz. I cut that out over a week ago. 
• I was addicted to Diet Cokes and I have now gone two days without them. 
• Dad was giving me six Benadryl every night for anxiety. I was supposed to only take two every few hours, but I would take all six after my father left and would get a nice buzz. It was my idea and we have now cut them down to two a night taking one less a week. Two more weeks and I will be off of Benadryl. The withdrawal has been pretty hard to bear for such a seemingly innocuous drug. 
• I also smoked two packs of cigarettes a day and now I am down to one.

Progress, but not perfect.

A Slight Interrogation...

"So, what's this about you not drinking Cokes anymore?" my father asked as I sat in the recliner next to him this afternoon.

"I can still have a Coke every now and then," I told him. "I just can't have six at one time. I can't seem to moderate my consumption. I drink Diet Cokes like I used to drink beer."

"I will still get my two sugary sodas at grocery time as a treat," I added as well.

"Well, at least you are being honest and talking about it," my father replied as he handed me my pack of cigarettes for the day.

"Would you truly drink all six at once?" he then asked with a wince.

"All six, back to back, like a man possessed."

"Well, no wonder you were feeling sick!" dad exclaimed with a hearty chuckle. "I drink my one Diet Coke in the morning with breakfast and I might have one more in the afternoon watching television."

We Shall Have the Smokes, But No More Cokes...

I couldn't put a finger on why I was feeling so off lately. I had read recently that aspartame breaks down into formaldahyde which is also used as embalming fluid. I drank three diet Cokes this morning in quick succession and realized that was why I was feeling badly. I felt much better after I began to drink cold water out of the fridge which is my mainstay. I am going to have to give them up and that will just shock my father when I tell him. He will think something's bad wrong with my thinking processes.

Does the Early Bird Actually Get the Worm?

I was in the bed at 6 PM and deeply asleep within minutes. I couldn't stay up any longer. It was like a time warp when my father knocked on the door at 8:30 PM with Cokes and smokes. It was his first full day of work in over two weeks. He is still congested and coughing, though.

"You are out of it," Old Fuss and Feathers said very worriedly, "Have you been taking something?"

I laughed half-heartedly in complete dismay.

"You always expect the worse out of me!" I told my father scoldingly. "I was just in a very deep sleep when you knocked on the door."

Dad said I was acting drunkenly.

Maggie came ambling into the den and collapsed on my hardwood floor with a grunt and a sigh. Usually, she is going gangbusters at my father's arrival. She was muted last night in her demeanor and response.

"Even Maggie's been taking something!" my father exclaimed with laughter.

Maggie was deep asleep as well relishing the time with me in the bed I explained.

My father wanted to see my medications and smell my breath. He said it would give him peace of mind. I took my nightly dose of two 1 mg Klonopin and a Coreg before I retired to the bed. Nothing was amiss. My father was afraid I had taken a bunch of my Klonopin which would have given a similar response. This kind of scrutiny gets old sometimes. I am 45 years of age.

Did I Hear Thunder?

The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was to check the weather. Yes, we have a vigorous line of storms moving in. If you have read me any length of time, then you know how much this excites me.  They should roll through about 9 AM and then it is supposed to rain the rest of the day.

You Can Set Your Clock By George...

I am being the consummate nosey neighbor early today. This morning at 6 AM I heard George crank his Dodge Caravan and pull out of the driveway headed to the Waffle House. He does this every morning at the very same time. I bet he gets the same thing to eat every time as well. Probably the two porkchop breakfast that he told me one time he likes.

Dad was over here for awhile the other night when George turned on his porch light and preceded to crank his car and just sit out there. He does this all day long probably ten or more times a day.

"What is he doing?" my father asked intrigued looking out my porch door.

My father can be very nosey himself.

"It is his version of drinking and driving without doing any actual driving," I told my father. "He does it all day and he is going to wear his starter motor out on that engine."

Since I built a new computer and placed it on the kitchen table, I have been better able to see what George is doing out the kitchen window near me. He sits out there drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette while he listens to the radio with the car cranked. The temperature or weather are no deterrent.

"I often did the same thing," I told my father. "I would go sit out in the car, listen to the radio, and drink a beer and smoke years ago. There is something cathartic about it."

The Ties that Bind Us...

"I can't make it to the grocery store tonight," I just told my father over the phone. "Mental illness wise something is going on with me today."

"What's wrong?" dad asked worriedly with a tone of exasperation.

It really hit me late this afternoon well after my noon medications. I could've just died for a six pack of ice beer to soothe what ails me. This is why I drank for all those years.

"My mind is racing like crazy and I can't settle down," I told him woefully. "I usually can sit in my lazy boy and look out the window for an hour or more, but I can't do that today. I can't even listen to my cherished music."

"I'll take care of it," Old Fuss and Feathers replied. "What do you want to eat tonight?"

"Just a hamburger and a large Coke would be nice," I told my father meekly -- hoping not to trouble him too much.

"I'll get it on the way home," he said. "I'll see you about eight."

It's a disconcerting feeling when your mind races and you feel as if you are going to jump out of your skin. I hate days like this and wish I could just go to sleep until I feel better. Alas, my mind won't slow down enough for a nap. I just took my nighttime meds and hope to feel a little better soon. Maybe that Klonopin will slow my mind down.

(The nighttime medications did the trick. I feel much calmer and my mind is slowing down.)

Of Cats and Men...

Joni and her smokes...

My insatiable desire to smoke has almost gotten out of hand. I can't moderate it lately for some damn reason and my craving for beer has been off the scale as well. Dad says I am in addiction mode -- that the chemistry in my brain is in flux. I had told Old Fuss and Feathers to leave a pack of smokes out on his back porch for emergencies. Well, I needed them this afternoon. I drove over to find Samantha sitting at the back door as I grabbed my cigarettes.

"Sweetheart, I do not know the new alarm code or I would let you in," I told her.

Dad just had a new alarm installed.

You could tell she was cold as she was all poofed up fur wise. Dad mustn't been able to get her inside before he left for work this morning.

"Meow," Samantha told me urgently.

"I know sweetheart. There is nothing I can do."

At least it was above freezing. The temperature was 38 °F when I left the house. I sat down on the steps and Samantha crawled into my lap just purring up a storm. At least, she was getting some respite as my lap was warm from sitting in my very warm car. She made herself comfortable. I sat there for what seemed like hours until the cold got ahold of me and I had to leave.

That Damnable Ethernet Device...

My seldom used backup computer wouldn't sleep lately. It was driving me crazy trying to figure out why. I finally figured out why it wouldn't sleep or hibernate as it should. My ethernet device was set to wake it up on a certain event and my recently installed WeatherBug weather program was also keeping it from sleeping.

I opened up the window's command line by pressing the windows key plus the x key and typed this to find out...

powercfg -lastwake

or

powercfg -requests

Windows Media Player was also making network requests so I turned it off as well.

The Sun Worshiper...

"I've got your Cokes and cigarettes," my father said over the phone this afternoon. "Drive over and get them. I have a hard time finding your brand of cigarettes."

Dad had to go buy more cigarettes and it had been three hours since I last had one so I was slightly uncomfortable and jonesing for a fix. Ah, the rigors of an addict. I was a fool for starting back, but humor this old fool with no lectures. It is what it is.

Thankfully, I was greeted by a very warm car which had sat basking in the sun all day. I cranked up and headed across town reveling in its warmth. It felt wonderful to this old cold natured soul.

"We've got to go get your groceries tonight," dad said with a frown as I walked into the kitchen.

He very clearly did not want to do that tonight. I didn't want to go either to be honest. I abhorred the thought of freezing my ass off in Kroger tonight.

"Hook me up with some food and we will go tomorrow night," I replied chirpily.

Dad gave me an almost full quart of milk, some honey wheat sandwich bread, and some beef bologna.

"Will that get you by?" he asked worriedly.

"That will suit me just fine," I replied. "I have plenty of frosted flakes left. I just didn't have any milk."

I had blessed and lauded the sun earlier, but it was blinding me on the drive home up Cherry drive. Sounds like a lot of religions I can recall.

A "Shield" of Rain...

It has been raining all morning and they've got flash flood warnings out for our area. The poor Magster just had to potty something terrible and this rain is just not acceptable. She whined and whined as if I could change the weather and finally shot out into the backyard and came flying back in. I got a big chuckle out of that until she used the couch as a towel then there was a big frown on my frowny furrowed face. Maggie has put that couch through hell. It is but a shadow of its former self.

Stay Off the Sauce, Please?

I heard a big commotion last night on George's carport as I was putting my groceries away in the kitchen. It sounded like a fight was underway. I grabbed a flashlight off my computer desk and headed out my side door -- the one facing George's house. I thought there was criminal mischief underway. Maggie was loudly sounding the alarm as well. George had fallen and was bruised up just a bit.

"Are you sure you are okay?" I asked George as he stood up. "Do I need to call the paramedics?"

"The only thing really hurt is my pride," George told me which was a very honest answer. "I was just going to sit out here for awhile and listen to the katydids."

I helped him get inside his spartanly furnished home and he plopped down in his recliner. I told him to be sure to lock the door after I had left.

Ragu Old World Traditional...

The meat sauce is on the stove. I have a simple recipe these days. I brown the ground beef and then add a big cup of water and let it bubble away and get tender. Once the water has boiled down, I add two small cans of Hunt's tomato paste (oregano, garlic, and basil), one can of Hunt's tomato sauce, and one large jar of Ragu Old World Traditional style pasta sauce (not as sweet as the other brands). This will cook for about three or four hours until I boil the thin spaghetti noodles al dente. These will be mixed into the sauce.

There is nothing like curling up in your favorite chair after adding a little Parmesan cheese to this cherished treat of mine. It is even better with some crusty and toasted french style garlic butter bread.

I am Royally Peeved at You!

"You're mad at me for being so late tonight aren't you?" my father asked me as we traversed the aisles of Kroger last night.

"You know how I hate those self-check out lanes!" I spat at him angrily.

I was also giving him the silent treatment.

"How can I be mad at you?" I finally acquiesced after telling my father I was royally peeved at him. "You do so much for me."

Dad chuckled and laughed, seemingly taking pleasure from this discourse.

Chicken Scratchin' For My Medications...

Oh, joy! Medication time! The head honcho has just left the premises. Papa was in a very talkative and excitable mood tonight. He said they had every screwball imaginable come in the pharmacy today. Pill counters, crazy Lortab partakers, methadone minions, etc.

Dad likes old Christian hymns despite being an atheist. He loves to play them on the baby grand in the front room of his house. I found a choir/vocal version of May the Circle Be Unbroken and we both loved it. I played it to him on my home theater in the den with my iPod.

"Can you burn me a copy?" he asked thinking he had asked for a long shot.

"Give me just a minute," I told him and I stepped into the computer room and burned it in Redbook audio so it would play in his car.

Dad was also watching A and E's Intervention when he left his house to come over here.

"Talking to them is not going to work. Treatment centers are not going to work," he told me. "You have to take draconian measures to stop the addiction. You start by getting power of attorney and taking away the money!"

"I like social visits, but aren't you forgetting something?" I asked him as he got up to leave after his little speech.

"Oh shit!" my father exclaimed. "I didn't give you your medications!"

Dad and I both walked out to his Honda so I could make sure the compact disc would play on his stereo. Soon, we were hearing sweet tunes. I am very pleased he liked that.

You Never Know What's Going to Happen Around Here...

required for grocery night

Classic Kroger mayhem...

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" I asked the scraggly looking black fellow after he very aggressively accosted me for money. I was trying to be kind. I was standing in front of the desserts freezer also trying to decide what two pies I wanted this week. I got a triple coconut creme pie and a Hershey's creme pie.

It was amazing this fellow was still walking that he was so drunk. His eyes had that jaundiced yellow look from drinking too much or a possible failing liver.

"Bud?" I said. "I haven't got a dollar to give in my name (I stretched the truth a little bit). Sorry, I have to finish my shopping."

I honestly didn't have much money to throw away. I did spend only $70 dollars tonight for which I was very pleased. It always intrigues my father how many groceries I can get for such a little amount of money. I got a cart full and it took a few minutes to load it all up in the back of my Honda.

Chiquita Bonita...

"I'm damn mad at you!" I told my father seriously after we had checked out and were heading to our cars.

"What got me in trouble?" my father asked incredulously.

"You got me hooked on those damnable bananas and they were out once again tonight," I replied. "I eat two bananas every afternoon for my snack."

We both burst out in laughter. Seriously, though, I want my bananas and will be headed to the Piggly Wiggly in the morning.

There's Food In Them Thar Hills Again...

https://www.pinterest.com

"Maggie! I don't know what chili will do to your little stomach," I told my determined and desperate little dog.

Maggie sat on the floor by my recliner vigorously wagging her tail. It was dad's chili left over from last night. Maggie saw me crumble some cornbread into my chili and it about sent her into orbit. She couldn't understand why I didn't share in the bounty.

I gave her some of her Pup-Peroni dog treats and she seemed to be placated for the time being. I washed out my bowl and headed straight to the computer this morning. I hadn't been up for very long.

A Nasty Addiction...

"Didn't you get addicted to Benedryl one time?" my father asked over the phone this morning.

"It was way worse than quitting drinking and quitting smoking when I quit taking it," I replied to my father. "A very physical and extremely awful withdrawal."

"You could get 36 capsules at Walmart for .88 cents," I then told him.

"Your mother was taking it pretty hardcore before she died and I wonder if that had something to with it. She was popping those Aleve PM left and right and they have 25mg of Benedryl in them."

Mom's official cause of death was cardiac arrest (like Carrie Fisher) and Benedryl raises your heartbeat and your blood pressure.

Sugar Bowl Bound...

https://www.allstatesugarbowl.org

My father was over here late last night for the medication ritual, going strong and giving me my medications. I had almost given up on him when it got close to 10 PM. He was also trying to quite successfully organize a trip to see Auburn play in the Sugar Bowl.

"We've got to have you," he told my brother rather loudly over his iPhone. "You lived in New Orleans for years and years and can get us around."

My traveling with them would be too complicated because of my mental illness, alcoholism. and the plethora of medications I have to take.

"You can find me at the piano bar in the lobby of the hotel," I told my father with a sneer as a joke.

Dad laughed and told me that I looked like a piano bar.

The sad thing is he is more likely to get liquored up these days than I.

"I will make sure Charlie takes good care of you while we are gone," my father told me.

We'll Soon Have Christmas After a Long Nap...

Dad is putting the final touches on his very pretty Christmas tree this afternoon. Dad had colored lights this year which I wholeheartedly approved of and the grandkids will like it too. White lights are so passé it seems to me.

Dad and I are going later to get Charlie's Christmas tree up and rolling. Janice, Charlie's wife, is going to cook all of  us a southern style supper. Dad also said she had some spiced tea on the stove simmering when he was over there.

"The whole house smelled of cloves, cinnamon, and citrus," my father said.

"Where is Santa's little helper?" I then asked my father of my mother noticing my mother was nowhere to be seen.

"We're having a little too much Christmas today and she had to go lay down," my father said laughing.

I had to smile as well.

Welcome to a Xanax Sponsored Christmas...

http://www.paperepiphanies.com/

Well, mom did it -- the colossal task. My father and I thought it couldn't be done. She got her old dosage of Xanax reinstated after her doctor had cut the dosages in half. Dad said she called and raised hell with Dr. Backshi -- that her panic attacks were making her miserable and that they were coming back in full force.

"I almost didn't believe it at first, but she is back to taking 3mg per day," my father told me.

That's the secretary. Me? I wouldn't have the chutzpah to do what my mother did yesterday. Especially doing it over the phone.

Living the Wino Life!

http://northforker.com/

A boozy weekend is behind us and behind as is a losing football game as well. I still get aggravated about all I did to get sober under my father's urgent pleas and my father is drinking bags of cheap wine every night. It is coy and it is catching up to him. He's playing with fire and I am the red hat poker or John Barleycorn that is. I take it as a slap to my face. He was boozy tonight as well which put him in a weird spacecadet mood with a clumsy demeanor.

***End Of Rant***

"I am going to the convenience store across the river when we leave here to buy you some more smokes," my father interjected.

The "sin" taxes are much lenient and much cheaper in Georgia than they are in Alabama.

I thanked him as I should do. That is a lot of money spent on my nicotine habit. My father never, ever complains about that aspect of mine and his life.

I think I saw a few tumbleweeds blow through Kroger as the dust kicked up in eddies off a barren floor when we walked in. We were the only non-employees in the store tonight. I keep hoping Jermaine would stop and tell me about his next round in curing his toe and toenail fungus. He'll gladly show you if you inquire. (Gross! lol)

In more upbeat moods, my father cooked his signature pork chops and rice tonight. That will be a very nice treat and a good snack tonight before bed. I am also cooking a roast with potatoes and carrots in my crock pot overnight. I bet that smell wafting in from the kitchen around 4 or 5 hours will awaken me. To hell regarding sleep! We want to eat!

Great Brain? He Just Couldn't Use It...

https://en.wikipedia.org

It is such a very good sign and feeling when that black Honda CR-V comes pulling up in front of my house. I always say the cavalry has arrived (Where is Custer when you need him?) or second shift for that matter. To Maggie, it is a return of one of her prestigious pack members named Papa or Gamma dog.

"How do you do, sir?" my father asked very formally as he stepped inside my home. "I am glad to be at this point in my day."

"Your house smells delicious," my father then added suddenly. "You must've had a Mexican meal tonight."

Dad wanted me to talk about mental illness and how it affected me over the years. Boy, did I have a tale to tell him.

"The only thing that made me feel any better was all that booze from John Barleycorn I drank for years," I told my father of the true most underlying cause to many of my troubles.

Dark Storm Clouds On the Horizon...

I just woke up early this morning with thoughts of my mother on my mind. I am deeply worried about her fueled by my own trials and tribulations with addiction and substance abuse. She has a tough row to hoe ahead of her if she is to recover.

I wiped the sleep from my eyes, put on some shoes, and went and got a cold soda from the fridge. I sat down in front of this computer to try to get my jumbled thoughts and mind together enough to write a decent blog post. My brain was going every which way and that. It was a busy day yesterday -- a day full of those family secrets best forgotten and not talked about. Things swept under the rug as they say.

Mrs. Sandra ran my Mexican meal to me last night. Which kind of alarmed me as it was a very somber occasion indeed. I just knew something bad or crazy had happened.

"What has happened now?" I asked Mrs. Sandra instinctively as her grand-kids jostled in the backseat.

"Andrew?" Mrs. Sandra said. "Your mother's been taking something tonight.  She was acting all strange and then she fell into the bushes at the Mexican restaurant and we almost couldn't get  her out."

"Sandra, I shouldn't be talking for her, but she is addicted to Xanax," I replied. "She takes up to 12 at a time."

Sandra said my mother could barely get up the steps of their home when my father miraculously arrived home early and took over.

"Your father just told me to bring your meal and then head home," Sandra told me.

"You always call me when something like that happens and I will take care of it," I  told Sandra.

The Great Grand Conspiracy...

There must something in the water last night and this morning as several members of my family acted strangely yesterday and moments ago. It seems as if my family is conspiring to keep me aggravated, worried and awake. Dad with his depressed and somber mood as he is usually rambunctious and loud. Especially so since Auburn beat Mississippi State yesterday. He should be overjoyed. Then my mother just called me and woke me up at 4:00 am.

"What time is it?" my mother asked me sleepily over the phone with an unsteadiness to her voice..

I always think something really bad has happened within the family when mom calls at such an ungodly hour.

"It is 4 am in the morning," I told her. "And I will never get back to sleep now. Do you remember that dad had steamed asparagus and grilled fillets last night?"

"Oh yeah," she says. "I am starting to remember now."

"Now Martha?" I asked. "Just what are you doing up this early?"

"I've got my days and nights mixed up," she told me.

"How many Xanax have you had?" I then carefully asked my mother not wanting to offend her..

"I only had a few and they are about to run out," she told me seemingly panicked. "I don't know what I am going to do when I no longer have so many of them. Will I have more panic and anxiety attacks?"

The odds are stacked high against me when it comes to getting a full night's rest these days. Mom then said she was going to hang up and try to get some more sleep.