Charmaine moved out and took up the New Age philosophy in a big way. She seemed to have a knack for that sort of thing and soon was reading Tarot cards and studying to become a Reiki Master. She left her normal job and started doing stress therapy. She was a much happier person, but kept getting involved with maniacal men. One actually committed suicide just after they broke up. Charmaine was devastated. Eventually she did some work on fixing herself. We remained best of friends, and together we looked into co-dependent relationships and did a rather rough “inner-child” workshop together. For the next few years we would travel the country together, visiting Holistic Fairs, Buddhist Temples and the like. We both had an aversion to Christianity, what with her growing up Catholic and my father bringing me up as a Jehovah’s Witness.
Dougie was my guiding hand in the AA programme. I did not like what he told me most of the time, but he forced me to take an honest look at myself. He also said that if I wanted to get sober I would have to rejoin the human race. My reply was, ‘Had a look at that lot, don’t like ‘em, won’t join ‘em.’ My position remains stat.
I met some very interesting people at those meetings, and a few became good friends of mine. My first year of staying sober I met Angus and Eric, both of whom became important figures in my life. Angus was a Scotsman, born in Glasgow but due to English public schooling had not a trace of an accent. Eric was a computer guy with, at that time, one wife and three ex-wives to his name. Both were smooth-looking and even smoother talking – bloody made me jealous. Never mind … one night I attended a meeting and a striking young woman walked in with a rather scruffy fellow. Evonne was tall, well over six foot, a head and shoulders above most of the men in the room, with a lean, fit-looking body.
Uh oh … exotic animals and women, can’t keep away. After these meetings we normally had coffee, chatted and arranged to meet again later in the week. Being a support group, this was an accepted thing. We also made newcomers feel welcome.
Of course I could not do this programme without some sort of rebellion. One of the two steps I did not want to do fully were: Become willing to make amends to people I had harmed. I had a serious problem with the cop who’d put a gun to my head, and my ex-wife. For two years I horrified members each time this step came around by saying, ‘Alright, everyone except the cop and my ex. I still plan to snipe her as soon as I feel I can get away with it.’
The third year I did two things. I walked into the police station, went into their bar and publicly apologized to Swanie. I also hired a private detective to find my ex-wife. I did not get a home address but one for her place of employment. It was less than 2km from Sound and Light City, just over the highway. At this stage of my life I had been taught to think before I act, so I did not rush over there full of apologies. Besides, sorry and making amends are two different animals. I don’t think I can ever make direct amends to Tracy, but I do try make amends to the Universe by treating people, especially women, better than I did her and Charmaine. I do not always succeed. The upshot was, considering what I had done and said to this woman during our divorce, she was not going to be glad to see me.
To overcome this barrier I wrote a letter, explaining that I had being sober for a couple of years, trying to apologise, stating that there was nothing I could do to make things right and so on. I also gave my contact details and said if ever she wanted to talk, she could contact me. This done, I proceeded to her company. Arriving at the reception area I politely asked if I could see her. She was paged but as she came through the door she saw me and made a bee-line for the ladies’ toilets and locked herself in. I was not about to shout through the door so just pushed the envelope under the door and made a tactical withdrawal. She did not contact me. Considering how many times I had broken my promise to stay sober while we lived together, I don’t think she believed my letter. I waited 6 months, then had another letter hand-delivered, just stating that I was still sober and did she want to talk. Again, no reply. I did that for the next year with the same result. I was saddened by this but not surprised; my childhood sweetheart would never speak to me again, but I had to move on. This particular attempt at making amends was now done; I had many more to do.
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Here is a story of developing and breaking an addiction, while dealing with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome at the same time.
THE CHRONICLES OF THE MEXICAN HORSE THIEF II
From a Different Angle 