Feeling in a funk today. I should be at least a little happy. After all today is my 5th anniversary of staying clean and sober. Recovery anniversaries are usually rough for me. I've been in and out of 12-step programs since 1989. During those years I've had two other periods of over 18 months of abstinence. The first time going back into active addiction was pretty scary, but the second time nearly killed me. So, why did I go back out into the war zone? Bottom line: I wanted to get wasted more than I wanted to fight for my life. No exaggeration here, friends. Mine has been a life and death struggle at times. Am I trying to be a martyr? Fuck no! I'm just compelled to tell the truth about my experiences because I'm tired of watching people die due to drugs, alcohol and other related side-effects.

On the flip-side, sometimes the ones that die are actually luckier than the rest of us, recovering or not. I mean... what worries does a corpse have? Game over, period. but still, look at all the sorrow they leave behind... grieving family and friends... It just doesn't make sense!

My disease has been working overtime. I posted my last day log shortly before letting my neighbors know that my family and I had returned from our trip. I found out that only a few days before our neighbor who lived across the street had blown out his heart smoking crack. Five years ago today I wished that it would happen to me.

I'm getting all jammed up over this. And please forgive me if any of it sounded remotely preachy. It was not intended as such. Hey, dat ain't my yob, meester. But as to why people like me keep on hanging in there... this may help explain.