Enough
If I had a nickel I’d find a game,
If I won a dollar I’d make it rain,
If it rained an ocean I’d drink it dry
And lay me down dissatisfied.”
-Townes Van Zandt’s “Rex’s Blues”
I suffer from the syndrome of enough-is-NOT-enough.
When I first said enough, I was in rehab, a few days sober. Fresh out the psyche ward, I wondered what I was doing with all these drunks, these addicts, these grown men trying to get clean and sober. I told myself they have serious problems—those counsellors have the wrong man. I believed in that first week of rehab that someone pulled up the wrong file somewhere. I was sure the mishap would be remedied soon.
A day passed. Then another.
I was swimming in solution. Rehab is nothing but meetings, sessions, fellowship, coffee, cigarettes. Still I clung to a piece of pride that dislodged during my psychotic break. It flew me around. I refused to admit what I already knew. Drugs and alcohol were my problem. My only problem. I snubbed people, slapped away the shaking hands of my fellow sufferers. I thought I’d be bailed out any minute now. Any minute now.
Somehow a near death experience in Mexico, a detox followed by a diagnosis was not enough. I needed more evidence. I waited for proof.
On the morning of day three it happened. They handed me a prayer to read. I stared at the page. The exhaustion, the bafflement, the angst and confusion had worked me over. I couldn’t read. The words floated about the page like dandelion seeds in the wind. With no other recourse, I said the words that have shaped my sober decade: “My name is Mark, and I’m an alcoholic.” Enough was enough. Some people call it growing sick and tired of being sick and tired. That works too.
Our pain has a threshold.
Pride can cover it up for only so long before instinct takes over and delivers us from ourselves. There are breaking points everywhere. Anger can break. So can lust, shame, doubt, fear. And when they break we realize how fragile and dainty they are. It’s a joke, really, how we hold on to what kills us.
For some, like me, the breaking point can be the edge of an abyss or the gates of death. The commonality in the breaking point—in my many breaking points and those I’ve heard from others—is a sudden mindfulness. A stepping back. It’s like you’re wearing this filthy pair of glasses and everything you see is ugly as a result. Then you clean them. You can’t believe how bright and beautiful everything appears. You only had to realize you wore dirty glasses.
I don’t know. Maybe it’s just alcoholics and addicts like me. But something tells me that these breaking points are all around us.
Is it enough? No? It can be. You don’t have to hold on like that. You can let go. Really. It’s fine.
The nice part about letting go is that it’s what you want to do. It’s what everyone wants to do. We don’t want to carry the weight of our obsessions. We want to free, be free, and be freed. By letting go, however scary, however far the plunge, we are free. Free to fall. Whoever has a problem with that only has more to let go of themselves.
I write this because I’ve been letting go of a lot lately: my sponsor passed, my writing’s been roundly rejected. My students are suffering from spring fever. So am I. Parenting and domestic life has felt like an endless swirl of minutiae. I’ve been the taskmaster who can’t tell you why he continues to master task after task. I’ve been devouring books and revising my own work at a furious pace. More and more of what’s never enough. Something’s got to give, as they say.
I found myself thinking at the start of last week: when will it be enough?
What I really mean: when will I be enough? When will there be nothing to prove, no one to prove it to?
Will publishing a book satisfy that elusive longing?
After a while, you start to understand that achieving a dream is just haggling over the price of a living nightmare.
Enough is enough.
Here’s one recent example of being incapable of calling it early. I added a second shelf to the study. Notice the time? I could’ve waited until the next day for the finishing touches. But I couldn’t leave that room until it was done. It kept me up past midnight.
Look. I’m a blogger. I don’t care. This little website began as an impetus, a dream: to publish a book. A “how-to” book told me to start it. The book said to start a blog, to engage with readers. I only finally got on social media because the book told me to do it. Two and a half years in, do I have a book to show for it? No. I don’t. And it’s better that way. I love this blog and all who read it. It’s been the most powerful gift my writing’s ever given me.
And what’s more, I’ve met and engaged with people the world over. For every bot that emails me to propose a guest post or link exchange, there are two people reaching out, saying hello, expressing appreciation or saying thanks. I follow and read from other bloggers who share this journey with me. How sensationnel is that?
Let it be.
Why must enough always need more? For a while, it was enough just knowing that it’s never enough. But even that’s not enough anymore.
If you think tolerance refers to the amount a person can drink and still manage their faculties, try getting sober! Get spiritual! Get real! You’ll discover that tolerance also works for the truth. The more you discover, the more you want to understand.
Fuck enough.
This is a blog. Put enough in your inbox and read it. It’s a place for stories of sobriety, reflections on the simple life, the occasional verse—a place for an honest account of the day-to-day turmoil.
It claims victory where others perceive defeat.
And it is enough.
It must be.
For now.
Author’s Note:
I’m thrilled to be making my print debut with Run-Amok Books’ personal essay collection *Miscellany*. The collection is out Sep 1st 2018.
Here is the link to an Indiegogo campaign, raising funds to pay contributors:
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Give me one and I’ll want a thousand
The addict will never be satisfied, not in addiction nor in life
Right? Borther, I’m really excited to get into that book you gave me. It looks like the world history of being ME!
Hope you had a good dinner and celebration. And congrats again on 2 years!
Speaking as someone “from all over the world” that you have engaged with, I am grateful for your writing and our connection. I think the keyword is acceptance. If we identify what we have no control over, we can allow ourselves to move on. I always said that if my writing touched one person, then it would have been worthwhile. Your blog has touched many people and will continue to do so. That is enough! Much love from across the water… AndX
Thanks for that, Andy. It has been a great joy to follow and get to know you as well. I look forward to all the future corresponding we still have!
I love your writing. Your blog. It let’s us in the room with you to help us find our own way. If – when – you write that book, it’ll be on the very top of my reading pile. I won’t ever bother shelfing it. It will be too good to tuck away.
Your work, your writing, your family and most importantly you are enough. Wanting more is a consequence of knowing you have more to give.
Thank you for your words. Always.
What an incredible comment. Thank you Cher for such an uplifting gift. I treasure this. Thank you. Should I ever get published (or when I get published) I’ll be sure to let you know!
Mark, I look forward to this blog as my favorite piece of recovery literature. The only thing that would make it better is if it was posted every week again.
Wow, dude. Thank you! That is amazing. I wish I had the time to post every week. Hearing from you, and our correspondence (it’s like a meeting after a meeting for me) makes it all worth it. It’s a lot of work, for sure.
Hi Mark!
How much is enough? A question I struggle with myself.
There are times I am content and know I am doing enough, other times I know I coulbe be doing so much more…voluneering, writing, reaching out to people, hobbies, etc.
I am so glad you are not giving up your dreams and you passion of writing.
You are a wonderful writer, and you ahve helped SO many people with your blog!!!
xo
Wendy
Thanks Wendy. As a fellow teacher, person in recovery, and member of #RecoveryPosse ! I appreciate it.
“It’s a joke, really. How we hold on to what kills us.” WOAH. Dude, I’ve got so much f’ed up stuff in my head right now it’s crazy. (Sobriety NOT in danger). But that line (well all of it) resonates. My therapist told me one time, “wow, you’re childish.” Ouch. But for sure, Mark: I get it. Hey: see you soon!!
Dude, I’m glad! We’ll have to discuss this further before the JTE concert! Been thinking about you a lot. When things settle for you, let’s get a lunch in or something.
You’ve put a name on it. I knew it without a name. This is a bit of an eye opener for me. That’s the gift of your writing, to me.
I appreciate that very much. I feel the same when I read your poetry and cartoons and spot insights. A little eye opener whenever I visit.
Too true.
Just lovely Mark. James Baldwin once write that he “wanted to be an honest man and a good writer.” I have always believed that is insanely ambitious (my students don’t quite realize the difficulty of either); but continue to accomplish that. Thanks.
That’s a fine quote, one I’ll commit to memory. You introduced me to Baldwin in his “talk to teachers” essay. It’s a worthy goal and I’m honored you think I’m accomplishing it. Bookety-bookety.
Didn’t think a blog post could make me cry! I’m almost 5 months sober and struggling with giving up alcohol forever still, but your line about just letting go, that’s it what we want to do. And that we don’t “want to carry the weight of our obsessions” really hit me because that is what I want, but I have let it go. It sounds easy and simple but it’s so freakin’ hard to do!!! But thank you for the inspiration to just stop toying with the idea of drinking and just let go.
Bree- Congratulations on 5 months sober. How amazing is that! We’ve got to let go. I’m learning that. I don’t think it matters how many days I spend sober, I will always need to let it go because my mind is built to hold on with dear life to things.
Early on, I carried around a sanskrit poem with me when I got in my head about the future.
Look to this day
for it is life
the very life of life.
In its brief course lie all
the realities and truths of existence
the joy of growth
the splendor of action
the glory of power.
For yesterday is but a memory
And tomorrow is only a vision.
But today well lived
makes every yesterday a memory of happiness
and every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well, therefore, to this day.
I had it in my pocket and had to read it over and over again. People called what I talked about “future tripping”. I couldn’t get past the fact that I’d have to have a sober wedding. Who wants to raise a glass of OJ at a time like that? I had a lot of learning to do about what it means to live one day at a time.
So freakin hard to do. But if we keep leaning on each other, we always find a way. Great to hear from you.
Ditto what Bree said above, I’m only 118 days sober, and I’m grappling with so much in my head. Everything your wrote in your post, just “hit me in the gut” so to speak. It moved me, but more importantly, it gave me courage to keep going for today AND that’s good enough for now!!
It is enough for now! And so are you.
Congratulations on your day count! That’s amazing! Whatever time we have is less important than the fact that we share today. We share this space, some room to breathe and reflect. Some room to grow. Thank you for your comment. Reading what you and Bree wrote truly made my day. It makes it all worthwhile to know people are reading and appreciate this blog.
congrats mark on your print debut!!! another awesome post my friend, my thoughts are often with you, love to you mate
Thanks John! Love you too brother. I’m really pumped to see my words in print.
Thanks for this honest reflection and great read. I think many writers ask themselves whether they are enough at some point. I did it a few months ago. I’ve decided to enjoy the process (which I love) and let God deal with the rest.
I’m glad you decided to push through. It was awesome to hear your pitch. I could relate to it and I think you really have something there. It’s such a relatable topic. Everyone is in search of identity.
Really great to connect Eulonda. Look forward to following you and your career.
Yeah, always reaching for something more. Publishing a book seemed like the ultimate goal until I reached it, then of course I wished it had done better. Et cetera. At least I don’t take myself and my bullshit as seriously as I used to.
That’s a good end game right there. The ability to be lighthearted about it all. That’s great you’ve got three novels out there. I’ll have to read one this summer. I’m trying to get my first out there. Finding rep. etc. I have that sinking feeling though. I know once I do, as you said, it just won’t matter. But at the moment it feels like everything.
“For now” How ironic.
We are only human, so we always want better/ more. And that’s good, because it pushes us to try harder, to do more. However, one needs to know where to draw a line. Happiness is possible, but only if you allow it in. If you never have “enough”, then, you will never be truly happy.
What a wonderful extension of the original post. Thank you for your insightful feedback. I’ve never good at things like boundaries. I think drawing that line, as you say, will be a lifelong practice…one day at a time, of course.