I’m playing tennis and visiting the gym frequently, I really look forward to each visit, the training, getting fit and healthy, along with all the little social encounters. It has been of tremendous value, not only for making my body better, but also just smiling at people, being friendly, positive and nice. I never used to do that. I was so wrapped up in my own world that I had little consideration for others. I used to see many other people as stupid or beneath me and in some ways I still suffer with that bleak view of humanity. I guess it’s because I’ve seen so much lethargy and incompetence from work colleagues over the years, I lost faith, but I also think this loss of faith in others is connected to my childhood trauma. And so, I’m trying to undo those habits and recognise that we’re all just different and have intelligence in different ways, whether it be logical, emotional, spiritual or mental.

Despite my feelings of loneliness, this knowledge and new appreciation of humanity makes me feel more connected to people. I’m becoming a nicer person for other people to have around. I can finally bring some value to others lives and perhaps lighten up someone’s day a little. Each moment is a new opportunity to seek out new experiences, acquaintances, knowledge and skills and slowly I’m finding the real me in these snippets of life. The balance I’ve found by working three days a week, mostly from home, has given me the space in my life to pursue other things, including making more music, spending time with my family, doing sports, keeping healthy and any other things that bring curiosity to my mind. I no longer have that anxiety and feeling in my upper chest, just below my throat, probably somewhere around my oesophagus, of clenching, grasping tightness, having to get things done, as time is running out. Forever chasing something intangible. Anxiety. This is when I was under the spell of alcohol. Constantly racing through my work, enduring stress along the way from managing a team of 80, problem after problem arriving at my door, day in day out. Mostly from people who had created them themselves, but were unwilling to solve them independently. Now I’m away from that, time is my friend, I can choose to go slow, go quick, any pace I want, and because I don’t manage anyone, people are nice to me and they don’t seek me out to moan and complain. I am no longer a toxic handler in my day to day life. It’s refreshingly comforting.

For the first time in a long time I cried this week. I realised how much better my life has become, and how sad I am for the past which slowly crept up on me and consumed my life. It’s not that I wish to undo what happened, it’s just the realisation of how I’m now happy, compared to previously. I was for so long in the guise of pride, ego and absorbing alcohol to give me a full sense of happiness each day. I lived for that small twilight window each evening where I was content, but only because I was intoxicated. I used to think that it was how I was really meant to be, partying, drinking, that was the real me, but now I know that was all bullshit. For so many years, I wasted myself on that. And I couldn’t see it. That makes me sad and will take some time for me to accept. I guess I am tearful with happiness in someway, but there is also a sorrow, not for its loss, like in my last log, but for how my life could’ve been different. For how it could’ve been better. For how I could’ve enriched other peoples lives, by not being such a miserable sod. I know it’s not about punishing myself, but the truth prevails. Overall, I did well and did the right thing by society’s standards while I was drinking, I managed to get a good job that served community, a good salary and I guess had good times, made people laugh and happy, otherwise I guess my partner would’ve never chosen me to be the father to her children. I had an extensive array of good friends, so there must’ve been something there, but altogether it was never the real me. I’m just now beginning to find who I am, where I left off when I was 8, because that’s when the real trauma began. Where my veil materialised. I was a nice boy up to then, full of trust and happiness. Following that, I became bitter, angry, aggressive and mean at times. Competitive, closed opinionated, righteous and always right. That’s not me anymore. Sometimes I stand in the mirror and I don’t recognise myself. It’s as if an impostor is staring back at me. But then I realise it’s that little 8 year old, free at last to begin again. My second chance.