Week 6

Direct copy and paste from twitter

WEEK FUCKING SIX! SIX! WHOLE WEEKS! Another week has come & gone. It’s time for me to carry on about my feelings again. Firstly shout out to @shanebell82 for being a brave bastard and sharing his recent experience today. It’s fucking manly to be vulnerable.

Today I’ve been sober for 6 entire, full, 7 day weeks. This weeks challenge was a long weekend. Long weekends in construction are usually a day longer than what most get. So, an opportunity to rip and tear early on and be (somewhat) recovered by the time you return to work.

I’ve been reminding myself a lot lately about how thoughts are like songs on a radio station. You have no control of what songs are played. They just play. When a song comes on you love, it gets your attention. The only thing that grabs your attention harder is a song you hate.

Saturday morning around 8:30 in the fucking morning, I had the thought of texting a few people and going an a bender. It was bizarre. Those thoughts don’t grab my attention much at the moment, but this one did. It’s some real, “the devil ya feed” type shit. I didn’t do it.

But this was a legit urge, a strong one. If I did it, everything would’ve been fine. On the outside, at least. Now though, after this much time, it would eat me up to do something so silly, for no reason, after so much hard work. That version of me is the worst thing for myself

This week though, a friend of mums, a highly regarded medical professional, took his own life, at work. A man who, by all reports, was admired, looked up to, revered. The guy that when he spoke, people stopped their conversations because they wanted to hear what he was saying.

A beautiful, kind, generous, caring and compassionate man. Mum said he was the most selfless man she’d ever met. The guy who’d work Xmas night so everyone else could be with their families. A guy who found happiness in making others happy. But, as mum said to me today, his

Greatest strength was his greatest weakness. He cared too much. He was a perfectionist, he wanted all of his patients to get the absolute best version of himself. The reason I’m telling this story is because it speaks a lot about the people you least suspect.

When the people everyone else looks up to, the people that when they’re around make everyone else feel more at ease, the people who have that presence that makes you feel like everything is going to be ok, when those people are struggling, where do they go? For everyone else

They are that person. They play that role. When they struggle themselves, I imagine they feel there is no one who can help them. Because they are the helper. Obviously there is help available for everyone. But when someone is unwell, their ability to make decisions is impacted.

I think selfless people, are often the most vulnerable. Being selfless means you put others first. It means you value others higher than yourself. It’s a noble quality. Something we admire in others. But being selfless also means exactly that, you value others more than yourself.

It means when you have issues of your own, you don’t want to bother anyone else with them. Because… your selfless. It wouldn’t be fair. They have their own problems. They don’t need yours as well. I’m not an expert, this is nothing more than my thoughts. I could be wrong.

But to me it makes sense. People do things for others, ironically, for themselves. It makes them happy. These people should be treasured. They have beautiful, caring souls. But they’re vulnerable. More so than we think, abs maybe more so than most. So maybe we need to keep a

Better lookout for the selfless people around us. They’re the ones who say, “no, don’t be silly, I’ll do it, you go have fun”, then hang back on their own and wish they would one day be a little less selfless and do what’s best for them, but then never do. I’m not suggesting

I’m a fraction of the man my mums friend was or that I’m selfless. But I am 100% the guys says “yeah ok, I guess I’ll do it” when I don’t fucking want to. Then be all pissed off at people who I told I was happy to do it, then be pissed off at myself for saying I’d do it.

Then potentially resent the others or myself. It’s a wild Fuckin’ ride, trying to process ya thoughts and feelings properly after squashing them for 15 years with alcohol and whatever else. But, this is them for this week anyway. Can’t really explain them. Be kind to people

Consider the quiet ones, the loud ones, the jokers, the ones putting others first. Ask ya mates if they’re ok. Ask ya colleagues. Let’s just be good cunts this week hey.