November 14: Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Perfectly Happy Lives, Christmas Every Day

"Okay, baby, hold tight," said Zaphod.  "We'll take in a quick bite at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe."

If you read my post from yesterday, you probably know that I was not having a good night.  I'm worried about my friend and where life is going to take her.  Sometimes, things work out, and sometimes you end up sitting alone at an empty table in the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, trying figure out how things went so wrong.  Having seen my friend go through the cycle of addiction and recovery several times, I kind of know how things are probably going to end, and it ain't "happily ever after."

I have a second friend whose voice is playing in my head right now.  This friend is telling me, "You can only control your actions.  You can't control what anyone else does."  That is certainly true.  I know that.  This self awareness doesn't make the situation any easier to deal with.  In fact, it sort of makes it a little worse because it takes away any sense of power I like to believe I possess.  I feel better laboring under the illusion/delusion that I have at least a little control over the outcome of my friend's choices.  I don't, but I like to pretend that I do.

I wish everyone could live perfectly happy lives, all the time, but that's sort of like wishing it was Christmas every day.  As my daughter learned long ago in Elmo Saves Christmas, Christmas every day is a terrible idea.  It would mean that Christmas would become ordinary as corn.  Nothing special.  Just another square to X off the calendar.  That's it.

My life has never been perfectly happy.  (I don't know a single person who can make this claim.)  Perfection is an illusion.  Happiness seems like an illusion, as well.  The best I can do on some days is be happy I didn't call anyone a "moron" or any of its variations--"fucking moron" or "brain-dead fucking moron" or (one of my favorites) "fuckcheese" (which implies the state of moronhood).

Happiness, in comparison, is a state of complete contentment.  Nothing to want.  Nothing to worry about.  Just inner calm and peace.  I don't know how to obtain this state at the moment.  (Right about here, my second friend, of the "You can't control what anyone else does," is rolling her eyes at me while she reads this post.  Why?  Because that friend believes happiness comes from complete surrender to God's will, or, as she would phrase it, "Giving it up to your Higher Power.") 

I had a session with my therapist this evening.  I spoke with her about happiness and control and my addict friend.  My therapist said a lot of things to me, about my need for control and the power of addiction.  At the end of our hour, she said to me, "Just take it one day or hour or minute at a time.  Control the things you can, and lift the other things up."  Translation:  you only control you, and the rest is up to God.

So, God's been knocking quite a bit on my front door today, sending me the same message, over and over and over:  surrender and submit.

Saint Marty is waving his white flag this evening.