The house is rented for the week to nice sounding people from Texas. They arrive at 1.
I am looking forward to spending what may be one of my last weekends in Hollywood. I fill my suitcase with favorite things and return them to Malibu.
I am listening to BBC Radio Four, Gardeners Question Time. One of my favorite programmes, the show was first broadcast in 1947. My grandparents loved listening to it. My mother loves it too. I particularly enjoy listening to the advice of the more elderly gardeners they interview most weeks. Softly spoken with thick regional accents. Even though I cannot take their advice directly because, of course, my high sierra garden is nothing like the lush, green gardens of England.
This morning they discussed string beans.
I often forget that I can tune in and listen to BBC radio live everyday. It’s very reassuring listening to British news and opinion, current affairs and of course..The Archers.
Yesterday I trimmed the Bougainvillea around the terrace so one can eat breakfast and look over at the ocean.
I am struggling with my sad head, my achy balls, the move, the renovations and the house sale that I hope to make this year.
As for where next? God only knows.
The door that regularly opened between me and my creative mind is jammed shut. Barricaded by resentment. It is obvious that a life which includes a deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness…
I am planning my trip to Australia. The little dog will have to be in quarantine for 30 days and I fear that he will go mad without me. I can visit him every day at the kennel but I know that he will hate it. I would much prefer that he lived with someone he loved here whilst I am away. Or..maybe I shouldn’t go.
Whilst I seem to report only the most catastrophic thoughts and feelings in this blog I am actually working hard in therapy to understand the consequences of my actions. As a single man the consequences of watching porn, masturbation, hook ups etc, are few. However, I had a delicious revelation at group therapy on Wednesday night. I have struggled applying what I know to work in AA to my sex/love addiction. I needed a key to unlock this conundrum. Someone in the group shared that when he read the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous he replaces the word drink with think. We have lost the ability to drink like normal people. Becomes: We have lost the ability to THINK like normal people.
I began to make my way through the Big Book replacing the word drink with think and suddenly began to totally embrace how I could make sense of my sex/love addiction.
Through the pain of the last few weeks as I hurtle away from Jake leaving him somewhere in the cosmos I have wilfully forgotten the solace I get from my commitment to sobriety in which ever form that takes.
Must remember to sweep the paths.