Smash!!
In disgust at his "perfect life", I reached into the far left cabinet near the sink, pulled out one of my leaded crystal goblets I bought several years earlier, rarely used but kept for special occassions, and hurled it at Wayne's closed bedroom door shortly after he bid me goodnight, went into his room and closed his door. It shattered loudly into a million pieces.
Wayne was a friend of my best friend Linda.
Linda introduced me to Wayne in 1990 with the hopes we would be a match. Linda loved playing Dolly Levi, Matchmaker. She even did it, in a way, for a living through her Friends Program at the Blackstone Valley Center for Retarded Citizens. She arranged for dates among the clientelle of the program. She and I while I worked there and even after I left Blackstone Valley, supported this important social resource for the developmentally disabled.
We went one one date and although he had a great personality, I knew it would go no where as a relatonship.
1. He was way too hairy on his body, and was balding on his head, big turn off for me.
2. He was one of the most swich fags I've known outside of the bar queens. I need a man.
3. He had a very long nail on the pinky finger of his right hand . I mean, really about 3 inches. He said it was just a "fashion statement" but I was convinced that it was for snorting coke. (It turns out as years went on and I got to know him that it was indeed just a fashion fad.)
I didn't reconnect with Wayne until Christmas of 1991.
On December 7, 1991 I encountered one of the first major instances of frustration with trying to come clean from alcohol abuse.
I had resolved a week earlier to rid my life of alcohol. I had noticed that I was drinking an average of a case of beer a week and it was affecting even my non-drinking thinking...that is, even after the hangover and subsequent sobriety, I was left with periods of doubt, ineffective thinking, and diminished cognitive abilities. I was also gaining weight again having lost the 50 or so excess pounds I gained in 1987. I was up to 240 lbs.
On this day, I opened my fridge and saw on the condiment shelf an unopened can of Coors Light. (That was my favored beer back then).
Within seconds I was one my knees in front of the open fridge, crying my eyes out. I was torn. I wanted so much to drink it, but I also so much wanted to not drink it.
For alcoholics out there, I think only you could relate. The feeling is so disturbing. You don't know which impulse is really you...the you you have supposedly known all your life.
Eventually I succeeded in dumping the beer down the drain but it was not the end of my struggles over the next few months.
Around Christmas-time I knew that living alone was a detriment...too much freedom to drink. I found out that Wayne had just moved to a small apartment in a gay-enclave area of Providence, but wasn't really happy about the size of his loft studio apartment and the high rent.
I arranged through Linda to meet with Wayne again. Other than our ill-fated date, Wayne and I had been together in the fall of 1991 to arrange and attend Linda's 40th birthday bash with rented limo and reservations at her favorite Arabic restaurant in Worcester so it hadn't been that long ago I had spoken with him. (I had seen him at at least one Blackstone Valley theatrical event he was working for as well...he worked at Blackstone Valley Center (BVC) with Linda...at the time I was working for Northern RI Assoc. of Retarded Citizens (aka NRARC))
Wayne and I got together and subsequently went out to our favorite club "12 Caesars" a few times.
Though now we were on a purely pluetonic relationship, we bacame very close friends very quickly.
We both agreed it would be a great idea to rent an apartment in a safe neighborhood in Providence together in February 1992.
By March we had found our perfect apartment. Affordable, spacious, and recently remodeled. the landlord, Dan, a yuppie/preppie himself, immediately realized the value of renting to gays and was head-over-heels in desire to have us sign the lease. Wayne and I felt it was the right place so we signed a 1 year lease with him.
Wayne and I were on very opposite shifts so even though we now lived together we didn't really get to know each other fully, early on.
He would wake up around 6 am to go to his 8 am to 5 pm job and I would wake about 9 pm to go to my 11 pm to 8 am job. He liked to get at least 8 hours of sleep so he usually went to bed around 9:30. So we'd see each other for about 1/2 hour each day.
Even though I initially wanted to stop drinking altogether, I slowly found myself easily slipping into a habit again.
I sanctioned some of the drinking, at first, as sleep-endusing assistance.
Since I was on a thrird shift schedule, I needed chemically help to overcome fatigue during work hours...easy enough! COFFEE!! and I drank lots of it. But when I got home in the morning I needed to wind down in order to sleep while the sun is up, the neighbor kids are playing, the cars zooming by, etc. So I started taking nightcaps. At first just a few beers before lying down, but I felt I needed more and more so I eventually bu April was up to a 12-pack and half a fifth of bourbon every 2 days.
That fateful April afternoon I had run out of Jim Beam after drinking a few beers and a few shots of the remaining bourbon. I got in my car, drove to the neighborhood package store (can only buy liqour in Rhode Island from package stores), bought another fifth of Jim Beam an brought it home.
Wayne came home at 5:30 or so and I could hear him outside playing with the neighborhood kids. The little rugrats had been part of the reason I was still up, they were loud and obnoxious little punks. Still Wayne got along with them and I could hear he was enjoying entertaining them. Wayne is the type that gets along with anyone! He generally likes all kinds of people!!
I don't remember waht occurred over the next few hours but all I remember is feeling that he didn't care about me. He cared more about the little neighborhood brats than he did about me.
For some drunken-induced reason, this pissed me off greatly.
The throwing of the glass though, was a total impromtu impulse. And, within seconds of doing it I was shocked at what I had done and come to realize I was so NOT in-control!!
This was the first time in my life where I felt I was not capable of controlling my own actions and it scared the hell out of me!
When Wayne came out of his room and questioned me in shock about why I had done what I did, I couldn't come up with any reason. I just started to ball loudly and Wayne came over and hugged me and held me while I cried harder than I ever had on his shoulder for what seemed like hours.
The next day I vowed to never drink again.
I handed over the remainder of my Jim Beam to Wayne, he stored it away and he took on a few Al-Anon meetings to be able to deal with his alcoholic roommate.
I "came out" as a recovering alcoholic to work, friends and anyone else who would listen. I was free of the effects of alcohol in my life and proud of it.
I went on a subsequent diet and fitness program and turned my life around.
I lost over 65 lbs., adopted a philosophy of healthy living, stayed sober totally for at least 4 years and kept slim and fit with regular exercise for at least 6 years.
In disgust at his "perfect life", I reached into the far left cabinet near the sink, pulled out one of my leaded crystal goblets I bought several years earlier, rarely used but kept for special occassions, and hurled it at Wayne's closed bedroom door shortly after he bid me goodnight, went into his room and closed his door. It shattered loudly into a million pieces.
Wayne was a friend of my best friend Linda.
Linda introduced me to Wayne in 1990 with the hopes we would be a match. Linda loved playing Dolly Levi, Matchmaker. She even did it, in a way, for a living through her Friends Program at the Blackstone Valley Center for Retarded Citizens. She arranged for dates among the clientelle of the program. She and I while I worked there and even after I left Blackstone Valley, supported this important social resource for the developmentally disabled.
We went one one date and although he had a great personality, I knew it would go no where as a relatonship.
1. He was way too hairy on his body, and was balding on his head, big turn off for me.
2. He was one of the most swich fags I've known outside of the bar queens. I need a man.
3. He had a very long nail on the pinky finger of his right hand . I mean, really about 3 inches. He said it was just a "fashion statement" but I was convinced that it was for snorting coke. (It turns out as years went on and I got to know him that it was indeed just a fashion fad.)
I didn't reconnect with Wayne until Christmas of 1991.
On December 7, 1991 I encountered one of the first major instances of frustration with trying to come clean from alcohol abuse.
I had resolved a week earlier to rid my life of alcohol. I had noticed that I was drinking an average of a case of beer a week and it was affecting even my non-drinking thinking...that is, even after the hangover and subsequent sobriety, I was left with periods of doubt, ineffective thinking, and diminished cognitive abilities. I was also gaining weight again having lost the 50 or so excess pounds I gained in 1987. I was up to 240 lbs.
On this day, I opened my fridge and saw on the condiment shelf an unopened can of Coors Light. (That was my favored beer back then).
Within seconds I was one my knees in front of the open fridge, crying my eyes out. I was torn. I wanted so much to drink it, but I also so much wanted to not drink it.
For alcoholics out there, I think only you could relate. The feeling is so disturbing. You don't know which impulse is really you...the you you have supposedly known all your life.
Eventually I succeeded in dumping the beer down the drain but it was not the end of my struggles over the next few months.
Around Christmas-time I knew that living alone was a detriment...too much freedom to drink. I found out that Wayne had just moved to a small apartment in a gay-enclave area of Providence, but wasn't really happy about the size of his loft studio apartment and the high rent.
I arranged through Linda to meet with Wayne again. Other than our ill-fated date, Wayne and I had been together in the fall of 1991 to arrange and attend Linda's 40th birthday bash with rented limo and reservations at her favorite Arabic restaurant in Worcester so it hadn't been that long ago I had spoken with him. (I had seen him at at least one Blackstone Valley theatrical event he was working for as well...he worked at Blackstone Valley Center (BVC) with Linda...at the time I was working for Northern RI Assoc. of Retarded Citizens (aka NRARC))
Wayne and I got together and subsequently went out to our favorite club "12 Caesars" a few times.
Though now we were on a purely pluetonic relationship, we bacame very close friends very quickly.
We both agreed it would be a great idea to rent an apartment in a safe neighborhood in Providence together in February 1992.
By March we had found our perfect apartment. Affordable, spacious, and recently remodeled. the landlord, Dan, a yuppie/preppie himself, immediately realized the value of renting to gays and was head-over-heels in desire to have us sign the lease. Wayne and I felt it was the right place so we signed a 1 year lease with him.
Wayne and I were on very opposite shifts so even though we now lived together we didn't really get to know each other fully, early on.
He would wake up around 6 am to go to his 8 am to 5 pm job and I would wake about 9 pm to go to my 11 pm to 8 am job. He liked to get at least 8 hours of sleep so he usually went to bed around 9:30. So we'd see each other for about 1/2 hour each day.
Even though I initially wanted to stop drinking altogether, I slowly found myself easily slipping into a habit again.
I sanctioned some of the drinking, at first, as sleep-endusing assistance.
Since I was on a thrird shift schedule, I needed chemically help to overcome fatigue during work hours...easy enough! COFFEE!! and I drank lots of it. But when I got home in the morning I needed to wind down in order to sleep while the sun is up, the neighbor kids are playing, the cars zooming by, etc. So I started taking nightcaps. At first just a few beers before lying down, but I felt I needed more and more so I eventually bu April was up to a 12-pack and half a fifth of bourbon every 2 days.
That fateful April afternoon I had run out of Jim Beam after drinking a few beers and a few shots of the remaining bourbon. I got in my car, drove to the neighborhood package store (can only buy liqour in Rhode Island from package stores), bought another fifth of Jim Beam an brought it home.
Wayne came home at 5:30 or so and I could hear him outside playing with the neighborhood kids. The little rugrats had been part of the reason I was still up, they were loud and obnoxious little punks. Still Wayne got along with them and I could hear he was enjoying entertaining them. Wayne is the type that gets along with anyone! He generally likes all kinds of people!!
I don't remember waht occurred over the next few hours but all I remember is feeling that he didn't care about me. He cared more about the little neighborhood brats than he did about me.
For some drunken-induced reason, this pissed me off greatly.
The throwing of the glass though, was a total impromtu impulse. And, within seconds of doing it I was shocked at what I had done and come to realize I was so NOT in-control!!
This was the first time in my life where I felt I was not capable of controlling my own actions and it scared the hell out of me!
When Wayne came out of his room and questioned me in shock about why I had done what I did, I couldn't come up with any reason. I just started to ball loudly and Wayne came over and hugged me and held me while I cried harder than I ever had on his shoulder for what seemed like hours.
The next day I vowed to never drink again.
I handed over the remainder of my Jim Beam to Wayne, he stored it away and he took on a few Al-Anon meetings to be able to deal with his alcoholic roommate.
I "came out" as a recovering alcoholic to work, friends and anyone else who would listen. I was free of the effects of alcohol in my life and proud of it.
I went on a subsequent diet and fitness program and turned my life around.
I lost over 65 lbs., adopted a philosophy of healthy living, stayed sober totally for at least 4 years and kept slim and fit with regular exercise for at least 6 years.