March 1, 2011
What a nightmare! My roommates’ snoring was like roaring thunder and wailing harpies. They kept me awake nearly all night. I feel tired, angry and irritated. And I’m also miserable and filled with self-pity. I have to pick myself up and keep fighting. I’m kicking myself for having lost a couple of job ads. I wasn’t expecting a great deal, anyway. It’s cold and bleak again today as, once again, the weather perfectly sums up my state of mind.
I have to try and contact H-san to act as the third party so I can collect my personal belongings from the home. The numbers I have don’t get through. I also need to contact an abuse hotline, the embassy and employment agency. I’m in a horrible state. I’ll look over the AA book later today and see what I should be praying for. I am filled with hate, resentment, confusion and anger. Poor Y has to put up with this. I wish I could make myself a better person for her and the kids, but I seem to be totally lacking the ability to be selfless and caring for others.
Outpatient Group Therapy was its usual form today, running from 10-11:30 a.m. and attended by about 10 patients and seven of the eight current ARP participants. The session featured a 25-minute video on alcoholics, recovering and current, living in Airin, a day-laborer’s slum district in Osaka, in a show entitled きらっと生きる(Live Brightly). Discussion followed under the theme of お酒の無い生き方を考える(Thinking About a Life Without Alcohol).
Following the session and lunch it was time to race off to meet Y*. We proceeded to a love hotel and went at it like rabbits all afternoon. It brightened our spirits on a bleak, cold day and I made it home just before dinner was served at 6 p.m.
Y*** returned to her home, while I was greeted with a package from the AA Central Office that contained handbooks with furigana and bigger letters to make them easier to read. I promptly handed these out to all the other participants in the program and hope they will make things easier for them to settle in and encourage their active participation in AA.
I headed off to the T* AA meeting and was absolutely delighted to receive some folded cranes (a sign of good luck) from another member (I**-san). I was absolutely rapt! And became even more so when a couple of other ARP blokes who normally shun AA turned up for the meeting.
March 2, 2011
Yet another night broken by the raucous roars of snores heralded another wet weather day, but today’s wet is of the warmer, spring variety as opposed to the cold and bleak conditions of the past couple of days. It won’t be too long before the toughest season is over.
Overnight, I received a wonderfully supportive e-mail from my eldest sister, A***, as well as a message from my patent translation tutor, suggesting my paper may have been graded.
I had originally intended to use the morning walking down to T’s old friend and asking him to let me into the house to gather some of my possessions, but the poor weather turned me off. I will make phone calls, send e-mail and translate the K* materials. Hopefully, I can turn the day into a very productive one.
Surprisingly, I’m feeling somewhat upbeat. I guess it could be a large degree of blissful ignorance of reality or simply denial, but I know I am generally doing what I can and that there’s not much more that I can ask of myself.
I spent the morning translating K’s materials into English, continued following a brief interlude for lunch and added a call to M* to reassure her along the way before it was time for the ARP lecture.
Dr. T* gave today’s lecture, アルコール依存症とは？(What is Alcoholism?), a renamed version of the 精神依存について(About Mental Dependence), the very first lecture I attended on the ARP, way back in January. It was a worthwhile lecture to hear for the second time, but sleep deprivation was starting to settle in, and I dozed off a number of times.
After the lecture it was off to T* to meet Y**. We had to go to the more expensive Mos Burger as McDonald’s was undergoing renovations.
I gave the Embassy a call, but Consul A** L*** was unavailable and I only got a promise of a returned call. I applied half-heartedly for a job being advertised and fought off sleep.
An Embassy official named C* called just as we left the restaurant. I explained my situation and he recommended a lawyer. It was a little difficult for him to comprehend that I have absolutely no money and T* remains sitting on all my assets and has seized all my cash. C and I talked until it was time to go back to the hospital and I was utterly exhausted when I got there. The upshot of the call was that there is nothing the Embassy can do to provide me with assistance at this stage.
Dinner came and went quickly, and I could barely fight off the urge to sleep. I was far less successful in the day’s second ARP session, the T AA Group Message, sleeping almost from go to whoa. The snorers are adversely affecting my treatment.
I came back to my room quickly and almost immediately fell asleep again. A worried Y* called me after I hadn’t contacted her and I made the call a truncated one. I fell asleep again but was once again disturbed throughout the night by my roommates’ nocturnal noises.
March 3, 2011
Yet again I woke from an interrupted sleep feeling angry and irritable. Where my nicotine patch had been reasonably effective the previous day, it wasn’t working today, and I was dying for a smoke. Coffee after coffee did little to quell the craving.
I spent much of the morning updating things…from this diary to clearing out my backlog of e-mail replies, to working out how to use the weather properly and planning for the day ahead.
Overnight, my patent translation grade came in – all I want is a pass to get me through overall, but who knows how well I’ve done? I’m not really confident, but a fail grade would really throw a spanner in the works.
This morning, I will break the rules and head to H*-san’s home and ask him to be a witness so that I can collect some of my belongings. I don’t know how it will go, but at worst the walk down there will still be good exercise.
As expected, the walk was indeed tremendous, with bright sunshine and a tad of spring warmth. H-san wasn’t home, so I left a message asking if he would be willing to be a witness and to contact me at the hospital if he would agree to act as such. I then returned, spending an hour or so working on the translation of K**’s materials.
The afternoon session was the Nursing Program and involved what the hospital calls the Individual ARP. It required writing answers to four different sections:
- When did you realize your drinking was irregular? What were some of your drinking episodes?
- How did you end up receiving medical treatment? What was your motivation to do so?
- What has changed about yourself since starting the treatment? And what has changed about others?
- What are your future plans one month ahead? After three months? After six months? After one year?
My answers took an age to write and I wasn’t really happy with them, but they were more accurate than when I first did this exercise a few weeks ago.
We read out our reports. One bloke (H*-san) spoke for an age and the session ran well over time, annoying everyone.
Following the session I raced to T* to meet Y** and we worked hard together on translating the hospital’s menu into English. By the time we finished it was a stage when I needed to report back to the hospital. As I did so, I bumped into another patient, who warned me that a nurse was looking for me.
It was ominous, especially as Ratched is on nightshift. My suspicions proved to be correct as she admonished me about recharging my PC in the hospital when recharging isn’t even permitted for phones. She promised to check up on the matter, so I will need to hide my charger when going back to the hospital from now on.
After dinner I went to T* AA. I arrived early and the several members already there talked about the Emperor. It’s a topic rarely brought up in Japan and one that arose because Emperor Hirohito is buried in T* at the Tama Goryo mausoleum. It was a fascinating discussion that soon collapsed into talk of Emperor Meiji’s sexual exploits, his many courtesans and how syphilis probably contributed to Emperor Yoshihito turning out to be stark, raving mad.
Fearing Ratched, I spent most of the meeting devising ways to hide y charger, just in case the bitch decided to act on her earlier unvoiced but clearly implied threat to stop me using it.
March 4, 2011
Today started as awfully as it has for much of the past couple of weeks – woken by raucous and thunderous snores echoing around the communal ward. It got better quickly and amazingly shortly thereafter, though.
A fellow ARP patient (K-san) sharing the same ward had also been awoken by the roars and asked for a moment of my time. I wasn’t keen but was concerned and agreed. Thank God I did. I’d given up on K-san, who had steadfastly refused to acknowledge his alcoholism and staunchly insisted he would only take part in the ARP to teach himself how to control his alcohol intake. But I’d noticed greater enthusiasm about sobriety emerging over the past few days. And then, this morning, he sat me down and showed me the documents from the halfway houses he had plans to enter and expressed his commitment to devote himself to not drinking. I was rapt and we talked of the difficulties of staying sober. I promised to provide him with whatever assistance I could, asked for his help and left feeling absolutely glowing.
Seconds later, another patient (I*-san) emerged, complaining of terrible hunger after three days of fasting. I mentioned that I had some bananas, and he gleefully gobbled them down, thanking me profusely and leaving me feeling wonderful again.
Boosted by these compliments, I took a final roll of the dice and mailed my old boss to beg for his assistance to try and extricate myself from this predicament. I expected nothing but gave it a shot in the hope that something may arise.
Further good news came as Y* mailed me to inform me that her beloved son, Chikara, had finally graduated from university. I knew how much this meant to her, so I was again ecstatic.
Buoyed by this spate of good news, I pinged a couple of AA blokes long-delayed answers to mail and received a helpful and supportive reply.
With so much good going on, I thought it could only be a matter of time before things soured, and I wasn’t wrong. I received a bunch of letters, all but one of which was demanding some sort of payment from me, immediately putting me in debt to the tune of some ¥200,000. The only other letter was one informing me of my divorce hearing, so that was hardly good news, either.
I’m waiting for the doctor to do his rounds now, but it’s already been an incredibly busy morning. With the lack of sleep, I’m already knackered, but there’s too much to get through to slow down at this stage.
As feared, rounds turned out to be pretty awful. On the medical front, there was nothing to say – the hospital knows I’m not a paying patient and wants me out as soon as possible. I was quizzed only briefly on my mental and physical state, social issues were ignored and Dr. T* asked me to refrain from using my PC within hospital grounds, except for communication purposes.
I was furious! Outraged! But I agreed to abide by the doctor’s request, especially as PC use was originally only given for communication purposes and they had turned a blind eye to everything else I’d been using the computer for over the past couple of weeks. After getting this news, I stormed out of the hospital and headed to the A* Civic Center, the nearest public facility. While there I got stuck into translating the last of the program materials and headed back to the hospital for lunch.
I later contacted Citibank to give them an update on my situation. They were understanding and I may even save my credit card status if I pay up quickly. I wonder if I can. I then called my district Minsei-in, a local community law enforcement officer whose word carried no legal binding, but carries weight with authorities. Another call booked an appointment on Monday morning for hiring a lawyer. It was then time for the ARP.
Inpatient Group Therapy today was carried out under the theme of 回復のイメージとそれに必要な行動(Imagining Recovery and the Actions Needed to Achieve It). The meeting was hosted by T-san and nurse N N. The session, from 1:45-2:45 p.m., was compulsory for ARP participants, whose numbers today increased by three, two brand new members and another (N****-san) returning after a stint in the doghouse because he got on the booze during an overnight stay, for a total membership of nine.
It was hard not to feel sorry for N*-san, who returned to the ARP today after almost two weeks away. I thought he’d been ill as he has his share of ailments, including several days in isolation when he caught the flu. Just before the session he sheepishly informed me that he had gone drinking when given an overnight pass last week. I was proud of him for calling the cops and handing himself in after he got on the booze. I was shocked, though, when he told me the hospital had thrown him in the lock-up steel room (Gachanbeya in Japanese, an onomatopoeic word used to describe the single rooms with locked steel doors and furnishings were troubled patients are locked away after misbehaving in mental hospitals). There was no nurse call button in the room and he had no water, so had been forced to quench his thirst by using his hands to scoop out water from the toilet and drinking it.
“I told the nurses later what had happened and they laughed their heads off,” he told me. “They told me I should have just banged on the door and made some noise when someone went past and they would have brought me a drink.”
I got a Minties moment of my own following the session. I went out for a whizz after the class was over in the toilet adjacent to the Group Therapy Room and emerged to find that I’d been locked inside the first floor of the Ax Building by myself and the entire floor was encompassed in darkness. I phoned the nurse station and Junko M****, the ward’s administrative officer, came down and freed me.
I raced off to the hospital admin, gave them a copy of my new health costs exemption form to keep my medical costs down and then headed into H*.
I arrived at McDonald’s, planted myself down and worked furiously at finishing up the English language materials on K Hospital. I eventually got them down, with Y* not visiting today due to a trip into central Tokyo with her friend, and had enough time left over before the AA meeting to call M. I rang, let her know my situation, then told her I loved her and headed off to the H**Catholic Church for the AA meeting, which focused on AA Tradition Three.
Exhaustion set in not long after arriving back at the hospital. It was a freezing cold night and I spent much of the walk back talking to my district’s Minsei-Iin, who told me she did not want to get involved in my dispute with T because the case was too complicated for her to handle as she was only new in the job. I wasn’t surprised.
I got back, headed for the bath almost immediately and blissfully soaked in the hot water to ease the chill of the cold and feel the blood coursing through my veins once more. I called Y* and we caught up with each other’s respective day until fatigue overtook me and it was time for bed. Then, the snoring began.
March 5, 2011
Another night of hell – the snoring is incredible. Who needs mental illness when you can have world champion snorers on both sides of you to drive you even crazier? I really feel insane today and severe sleep deprivation over a number of weeks has only made me worse. I woke up from the little sleep I could get feeling groggy, angry and irritated. Nonetheless, I tried to put the morning to good use.
I wrote mails to former ARP patients now toughing it out in the real world, a couple of other AA guys and, of course, Y*.
Tomorrow is horseracing’s Yayoisho, a G-1 race, so I asked E* Bancho to put a bet on horses no. 1 and 5 for Y’s birthday on Dec. 15 (ironic, really, considering that Y* is the old Japanese name for the month of March).
Much of the morning in the lead-up to the day’s only session was spent doing a part-time job, and Y* got worried when I hadn’t called. She gave me a ping and we got even more worried about our ever-mounting debts. I can sense it in her tone each time we talk and I must seriously get onto Hello Work and find a job as soon as possible.
Outpatient Group Therapy today featured a video entitled 人間ゆうゆうセルフヘルプグループＡＡ(Human Ease Self Help Group AA), while discussion was under the theme of アルコール依存症の誤解と真実(The Truth and Misunderstandings of Alcoholism). The video title translates roughly as the “Serene People of the Self-Help Group AA,” while the discussion theme means “Misunderstandings and Truths About Alcoholism.”
The video ran for the first 30 minutes of the session from 10-11:30 a.m., while the remainder was allocated to comments from participants, who included all 10 patients on the ARP, two women alcoholics from other wards, and outpatients who visited the meeting voluntarily and were free to come and go as they pleased. As always, details of what was discussed during the session must remain confidential. The theme changed partway to アルコール依存症失敗談：それでもどうしても飲むのか？(Alcohol Mistakes: Yet, Why do You Still Want to Drink?)
The meeting was an absolute disaster. The initial theme was somewhat iffy in my mind, but when the choice was thrown open to the floor, the crazies offered suggestions that were hardly productive.
The answer I initially prepared was merely that I wanted to drink, but I realized I was being spoiled and later added that our mistakes all arose from being too self-centered. I couldn’t fail to notice that everyone in our room was battling to stay awake – except the snorers. And that really pissed me off.
A quick lunch came and went, then I headed off on foot to McDonald’s in Nishi H, where I worked on polishing off the English translation of the K Hospital program materials.
I worked there for a couple of hours until Y*** arrived. We enjoyed some cuppas and a shake, then took a leisurely walk into H*.
Along the way, I broke into a sweat, which I thought came from low blood sugar, and had to stop for some chocolate and a Pepsi. I quickly recovered.
In Hwe had a huge curry dinner, then went to T for another cuppa, and finally went our separate ways, Y** going home and me dragging myself reluctantly to AA. I was feeling ill, depressed, tired and irritable, probably because of a lack of sleep.
March 6, 2011
Things didn’t go to plan today right from the word “go.” I woke before 5 a.m. even though nobody had disturbed my sleep, but didn’t use the time I had to do anything productive, smoking and drinking coffee instead.
I left the hospital immediately after breakfast and walked to T* Police Station, where I intended to complain about T***. The officer working the reception was polite, but told me there was nothing he could do for me and that I should come back on a weekday. As I talked to him, one of the regulars from Miracle (my main watering hole when I was drinking), recognized me and pointed me out to the officer.
“Officer, officer,” the bloke screamed, pointing at me. “He’s an alcoholic.”
The officer laughed – as did I – hopefully, for the same reason: because there was nothing else that I could possibly do except chuckle despite feeling humiliated.
Continuing on, I pondered dropping in on H-san again and asking for help before deciding against it as he had ignored my earlier request. I did go through with my plan to drop in at home to see if they’d let me collect my goods, but there was no such luck. It made me a little angry, which became worse when Y told me how stupid I had been for marrying that bitch. I agreed, but was upset that she continued the trend of all my allies of criticizing me for things I’d done in the past.
With time running out, I headed to H, dropping off at McDonald’s for a burger and coffee, and copping another earful from K*-san – all about things that had happened in the distant past. By the time I’d composed a few e-mails, it was time to get off to AA.
The meeting was a pretty good one, carried out under the theme of やりたくない（かった）事(Things You Didn’t Want to Do). As the meeting drew to a close, I got to chatting with another alky (I), who gave me some inspiration by letting me know he felt his relapse started when he began resenting sobriety – a state I sometimes feel I am slipping into. By the time we’d finished talking, it was past 2 p.m., the exact time I was supposed to be meeting Y in T*, an hour’s trip away, and she was madly mailing and calling me. Fortunately, her later calls were to let me know that she was coming to me to meet me.
We finally got together then took off for Showa Kinen Koen park in T for an extremely tranquil lunch and opportunity to bask in the sunshine beaming down on a warm, spring day. Before we knew it, and after catching 40 winks, it was time to head into town and meet a fellow ARP participant (T-san) who had asked me to accompany him to an AA meeting in T. I did so, finding the place rather easily, but getting sleepy among many unfamiliar (and some unfamiliar) faces, nearly all of whom showed their preponderance for long and windy speeches under the theme of リラックス(Relax).
With the lawyer’s visit tomorrow morning and a program session in the afternoon requiring 10 pages of writing that still haven’t been done, I’m feeling tired, irritable and swamped. My fellow patient had asked that we go shopping in T****, and I had agreed to do so, but with the requirements of today and tomorrow to think about, I’m about to give it a miss and head straight back to the hospital.
As I expected, I parted with my fellow patient at the station, unexpectedly being asked to carry his luggage back with me. As I had been botting ciggies off him all day, I couldn’t really refuse. The weight certainly put the lug into luggage.
I called Y** and she blasted me for getting my priorities wrong again and not focusing on divorce proceedings today instead of looking after T-san and taking him to AA. I was exhausted and deflated by the time I got back to the hospital. I scoffed down all my chokkies, some tremendous banana cake that Y had made for me and then gave up the idea of a bath, instead changing into my pajamas and quickly falling asleep.
March 7, 2011
Today marks exactly two months since I entered the looney bin and I feel like shit. The snorers woke me in the middle of the night yet again, but in addition today there was the added “bonus” of needing to complete several pages of the workbook to be used during the ARP Psychology Program session in the early afternoon. I spent a couple of hours filling this out, which was something of a disappointment as it made me realize how terrible sobriety makes me feel and that simply not drinking alone is not going to provide all the answers I need.
Adding to the gloomy atmosphere is the need today to go and hire a lawyer (or “beg their assistance,” as the term is used in Japanese). I have a right to live and T is doing everything in her power to deprive me of that at the moment. It’s the first time in my life that I‘ve ever hired a lawyer and it’s a somewhat harrowing experience.
I’m also hoping for a phone call from an ex-boss who I hope to hit up for a loan. He’s my final economic lifeline at the moment and I hope he’ll look kindly on me in my hour of need. He hasn’t been particularly dependable in the past, though, so my hopes aren’t high. Still, “don’t ask, don’t get.”
Just to add to the gloom and doom in my heart, it’s a cold, bleak day with steady sleet falling – precisely what I needed when I’m already feeling so fucking upbeat!
If nothing else, today was at least productive. Heading out into the sleet and snow immediately after breakfast, I went into Hand waited for Y* to join me at McDonald’s. the snow delayed the trains and when she finally arrived there was little time left to collate our thoughts, and when I went to have a shave in the dunny, it was being cleaned, so I couldn’t get in. Fortunately, I still had a couple of minutes before going in to see the lawyer when we got to their offices, so shaved, but it was a rush job with a blunt blade and there were snicks all over my face. Good old Y was there again to help clean my face up with some cream, tissues and a giggle.
Called into the lawyer’s office, my initial reaction was a shock. Ryohei T looked about 16-years-old. He has a crew cut, smooth skin bar the occasional pimple, pierced ear covered with a Band Aid, coke-bottle glasses and crooked teeth, none of which did much to inspire confidence. The shabby recruit suit and old coat that looked like it had just been bought for a couple of hundred yen at a flea market were even worse. He did a good job for us, though, ringing City Hall and ensuring I would get welfare and a place in a halfway house or shelter.
Y* and I then enjoyed lunch. While doing so, my ex-boss (I****-san) returned my calls and listened as I begged for a loan. He agreed to at least meet me tomorrow and hear what I had to say, but was non-committal about anything further. It did, however, give me a glimmer of hope.
Needing to get back to the hospital for the afternoon’s program, Y** and I rushed to T. T*-san called to let me know the city had also arranged facilities for me. I was delighted by how fast the lawyer could get things moving, especially when compared with the efforts made by a certified lunatic foreigner.
Arriving back at the hospital I couldn’t find my pass and started to fret, especially as Ratched was waiting to let me in. Once again, she displayed her wicked sense of humor.
“Kangaeroo-san, where’s your pass?” she demanded, a serious look on her face and her voice doubled its normal sternness.
“Oh shit!” I thought to myself and began to worry, just as nurse Y** T*** piped in.
“Don’t worry,” she said, breezily. “I found it on the path this morning.”
“Great,” I said, breathing a huge sigh of relief. “I’d been worried about. I was just thinking to myself, ’Shit, what’s Ratched gonna say’”
Ratched heard this and let out a roar of laughter.
“Gee,” she said. “If I’d’ve known that I’d’ve teased you a little bit more than I did.”
I couldn’t help feeling warmth for her, but couldn’t tell Y** about that. Y** hates her, not unjustifiably, because she was extremely tough when dealing with me in the early days of my hospitalization, admonishing me for wearing after-shave lotion because it stimulates alkies, rudely interrupting a visit from Y* in the visitor’s room by pretending that she was “checking on patient numbers” and frowning on the fact that we are not married. I’ve got a soft spot for her, though.
Nurse T checked my temperature and I packed up my stuff and headed into the afternoon session.
Today’s Psychology program saw us work through to the end of the ARP Workbook (As I read through the answers I’d written, I realized how childish I had been). Nurse T* chaired the session with support from clinical psychologist S* S****.
When the session ended at 3 p.m. with a couple of questions left, she informed us that the Workbook would shift to the Nursing Program and that the Psychology Program would change to have a greater focus on relaxation, making my notes, translation and diary obsolete before I’d even showed medical staff.
While reading my answers in the workbook, I got a little down on myself for having been so petulant but writing in the early hours of the morning after so many days of interrupted sleep, my grumpiness was probably a fair indication of the state of my mind.
I received a message to contact T-san after the session and did so. She told me about the city’s offer to find facilities and mentioned that she had also contacted T. I told her of my attempts to gain a loan, and she let me know that the city would not approve. She also explained how I will have trouble when it comes to paying off anything other than my medical bill when my sick leave payment comes in. I got confused. It’s all getting too much for me to handle.
When I went back to the ward, I contacted Y** to let her know what was going on as best I could and then wrote out an application to go and see the lawyer on Saturday. I then wrote this entry. I was supposed to meet with T-san and Dr. T** before going to AA, but it’s almost time to leave and nothing has happened.
The discussion with the social worker and doctor was a virtual review of what I had earlier discussed with T-san, and by the time I was finished, dinner had already been served, so I was late heading out to AA. I took off into a cold night, rushed to the meeting and left with enough time over to still make it for a bath. I fell asleep shortly afterward, mentally and physically drained.
March 8, 2011
Once again, my snoring wonder in the adjacent cubicle deprived me of a full night’s sleep. The effects are truly eating away at me and keeping me edgy. I’m a little worried about meeting I-san and burning bridges again. But at least I don’t have to worry about asking him for money…or, do I?
I’m getting a little worried about falling into the welfare trap. It’s easy, but I don’t know whether I should take that path as it’s also extremely restrictive and I may be severely limiting my opportunities. I’ve got to pray for guidance on this one…I’m a little out of my league here. I’m depressed again. I don’t know what to do. I need to talk to Y** and to K-san. But, almost as much, I also need to talk to M****-san from Hello Work. Perhaps the welfare option is not as attractive as it seems?
Outpatient Group Therapy today continued as usual from 10-11:30 a.m. and was chaired by T-san. The session featured a 30-minute video entitled 定年後の依存症(Post-Retirement Addiction), which focused on the lives of two men in particular who had become addicted to alcohol after they had retired from the workforce. Following the video, discussion carried on under the theme of どんな風にいきていきたいのか？(How Do You Want to Live?) for a little over an hour before the session ended.
The session was a bit of a disaster. The original theme was どんな死を迎えたい?
(How Do You Want to Die?), which I had no particular problem with and could understand the nuance implying the question of how we wish to spend the rest of our lives, but for many of the participants the morbid topic was perhaps a little too direct and they were decidedly unhappy about it. This got the discussion off to a decidedly shaky start and even the usually talkative participants were less loquacious than normal. I was too preoccupied with sleep and my impending meeting with my old boss to make any worthwhile contribution.
Following completion of the session I went back upstairs for a smoke only to be told that I had filed a request to leave immediately upon cessation of the session and that no lunch had been prepared for me. I packed up quickly and headed off to T* to meet Y**.
The trip to Mitaka and lead-up to meeting I-san was filled with trepidation. I had decided that I would take up the welfare option after all and would not use this opportunity to beg my old boss for a loan. We lunched at McDonald’s, and I felt decidedly queasy as the meeting time drew near.
We met I-san, who looked virtually unchanged after not meeting for more than two years. I told him a lot of what had eventuated, the troubles I faced and what I had to do from now on until, and if, I recover. I then told him that I would not have to hit him for a loan.
He let me know that he was leaving the M at the end of the month (to go to Showa Women’s University after taking an early retirement package) and told me the paper would never do anything more to help me (which induced tears in me, if nothing more than because it made me realize I am still being used as an extremely easy target).
Our meeting ended and we headed back to the station. I*-san turned around and suddenly thrust a wad full of notes into Y’s hands.
“It’s a donation,” he said. “It’s only 20 (man, or ¥200,000), but it’ll help.
We refused, as is customary, and it was pushed back at us, as is also customary, and we finally accepted it. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but bowed in profuse thanks as a clearly embarrassed I-san scuttled away, leaving us to cuddle with joy for more than a minute.
Racing back to the train, I noticed a Job Vacancy (caps!!!) on the Honyaku Mailing List and promptly replied only to be quickly informed that somebody else had already snapped it up. Prospects looked better with another job offered by DagMusic and proposed by them, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
I got back to the hospital feeling somewhat drained, but packed up, ate dinner and then went out to attend AA at the A Civic Center. I left early, intending to Skype M* with an update on developments, but so many people say my PC they started talking to me and I got nothing done.
Y** then mistook the time and called during the meeting. (I answered, thinking she had been sued because of a nasty letter T* sent to me earlier in the day) and we spoke until it was over. I went back to the hospital, showered, called Y* again and dropped off, once again filled with exhaustion.
March 9, 2011
Being woken by thunderous snores in the middle of the night and kept awake by them thereafter has become such a normal part of my life that it is barely worth writing about them, but, me being me and never one to miss the opportunity to moan, I’ll write that it happened again today, too.
Despite the early rise, the accumulated deprivation of sleep also induced tremendous lethargy and I spent most of the time reading Bill Bryson, getting sleepier, smoking, drinking coffee and steeling myself for the day full of ARP activities, including my fourth identical Nutritional Guidance lecture, second lecture on alcohol’s physical effects and umpteenth T AA Group Message, which is almost invariably the same and given by the same people.
When I finally roused myself after breakfast, I began writing my diary, filling out the entry I hadn’t been able to complete and interrupted by a call from an anxious Y***.
As expected, the Nutritional Guidance lecture was identical to the three previous occasions I had undertaken it. Even more ironic, the nutritionist, K** O****, read out materials in her robotic manner and wore identical clothes on each occasion that I have attended and she has given over the previous seven weeks.
With the lecture offering absolutely nothing new, being filled with information not even the hospital abides by and well beyond the capabilities (financially, physically and mentally) of all us alkies, I spent the session writing this diary and a submission for Kobotoke, the ward’s monthly newsletter. I handed in the submission before lunch, ate and then headed out to bask in some rare sunshine only for the weather to cloud up badly and leave me freezing for the hour or so I spent surfing the Net and writing e-mails in the lead-up to the afternoon session.
Just before lunch I met with Dr. T** to talk about my current situation. I told him that I felt a complete focus on recovery was my best option and that with Y** spearheading my support network I had a better chance than most but would never really know until I got back into the real world. I know what I need to do – and it really is just attend AA — but doing it unceasingly is going to be the major problem.
Just when I was starting to feel good about myself, Junko M*, the ward administrator (and a lovely looking woman to boot) gave me my overall hospital bill.
“Gee thanks. I didn’t really want this,” I told her.
My complaint only elicited a giggle from her. It’s hard to get angry or be offended by a stunner.
The afternoon lecture given by Dr. AY* F*** was essentially the same as that given on Australia Day (Jan. 26), with expressions or terms changed insignificantly to convey a sense of transformation, but content remained fundamentally the same. The lecture, entitled アルコール依存症と体の病気(Alcohol Addiction and Physical Illness) went from 1:45-3 p.m. in the Group Therapy Room on the first floor of the A*x Building.
It tracked how the body breaks down alcohol and the physical effects that alcohol has on the body, specifically organs going literally from the head (the brain) to the toes (nerves) in what was a fascinating session even if a repeat for me, personally.
Today’s lecture was interesting, but extremely tough to get through. The lack of sleep is really hurting me and I felt the pinch. Having gone outside during the lunch break for what I suspected would be warmth but instead getting almost frozen solid because of the chilly air, I asked to turn the heater on, which resulted in the warmth inducing in me an almost irresistible urge to doze off. I could barely fight it for the duration of the session, especially as I had already taken the class previously.
I remained sleepy and groggy (not literally in the case of the latter) when I went to meet Y** in T*. She was also sleepy and the time we spent together was largely slumbering on each other’s shoulders.
We parted at the station instead of going on to the hospital together as usual. I went back, tidied up, ate my snacks and dinner and battled vainly against the almost uncontrollable urge to sleep.
A long day’s schedule came to its conclusion with an AA Message meeting from the N AA Group from T, which was more appealing than the same old T people. As is the wont with this group, there was a huge turnout, by message standards at least, of the 13 AA members (10 of whom were women) combined with the 10 ARP participants in the Group Therapy Room for the session from 7:10-8:30 p.m.
Exhaustion had set in before the session had started, so it was effectively doomed from the outset for me. With the speakers focused on old-timers whose first move was to check their timepieces (watches and mobile phone clocks) to see how long they could talk for, the deal was sealed and I joined the vast majority of attendees sitting in silence and fighting the urge to nod off as I did so.
The meeting thankfully concluded, I raced upstairs, called Y, had a crap, called Y again and then crawled between the covers.
Even then, my urge to sleep was thwarted by roommates’ chatting, which I shouldn’t say because I was a complicit and willing partner in their gasbagging. Consequently, it was well past lights out at 10 p.m. before I finally dropped off, which I did amidst reading the delightful Bill Bryson.
March 10, 2011
Once again, I woke at 4 a.m. but couldn’t blame the snorers this time. They were silent when I woke and went out for a smoke, noticing that I was already feeling tenuous about the upcoming day.
Though my bellowing buddies may not have caused me to wake this morning, they were in full chorus by the time I returned to the room, putting paid to any hopes I may have harbored of gaining any more shuteye. I turned to Bryson for further delight (or was it respite?).
Over breakky (my second for the day as I had gobbled down literally a basketful of fruit in the early hours of the morning), the forlorn feeling that has been encompassing me all morning heightened and the icy cold despite the sunshine was not making me feel any better. I was pondering a wait until the last possible moment before heading to City Hall to hear a presentation on the facilities I am to be placed in upon my discharge next week – the probable cause of my slump.
I walked to City Hall, stopping at Ryonan Park along the way to write a mail to I-san to thank him again and express my desire to repay his money (though I have extremely mixed feelings about what to do regarding his kindness). I am plagued by a conflict between the desire to avoid further hurting the girls and T and the need to rebuild my life.
Welcome to the painful world of alcoholism! I prayed to God for guidance, got some more help through a call to Y** and then stopped in a park near City Hall to while away the time before my scheduled 11 a.m. meeting with K***-san of the Welfare Section to hear the City’s proposal for a place to stay upon my discharge tomorrow week.
Being in the park reminded me of my stint working at City Hall and I would often turn up an hour before my scheduled start and spend time preparing for the day in those brighter, simpler, halcyon days almost 20 years ago now.
Life’s not easy, but the problems I’m facing now are ones I have made for myself after years and years of stupid greed and cruelty to those poor, innocent little girls I should never have brought into the world. My mood lightened somewhat as the day warmed up and I watched a large group of pensioners battling it out in a game of park golf and then I set off for the meeting.
The meeting went pretty much as poorly as I had expected it would. I arrived 20 minutes early and was made to wait for 10 minutes while former colleagues walked past and pretended not to know or notice e.
A sub-section manager called K* (the man who had turned me away without talking the first time I visited City Hall but today with a decidedly friendlier manner following T***-san’s intervention) met me and was extremely polite. He called in another official, K****, who was also very open and polite, and he explained the details of the city’s facilities.
Basically, they’ll give me shelter, two meals a day and money for transport. I can be based in a room by myself, one other or anywhere up to four others.
My problems are university – if I pay, the City’s view is that I should be using the money to pay for lifestyle expenses – and possessing a credit card, even though I can’t actually use it at the moment as I have yet to release its suspension when I failed to pay my February bill quickly enough.
After hearing the news, I walked back to the hospital, calling Y** along the way. We agreed the alcohol-free environment suggested by T*-sensei was the more attractive alternative, so it was going to be off to Higashi Kurume and its strong stance against drinking. I picked up a cheap bunch of bananas and scoffed them down with a bottle and a half of Pepsi before getting ready for the session.
The Nursing Program was held in the Group therapy Room from 1:45-3 p.m. with nurse N** S*** chairing the session under the theme of 飲酒の引き金に出会った時(Encountering Drinking Triggers).
Today’s session was something of a balls-up and that was largely my fault because I kept dragging the discussion off on all sorts of tangents. A few of us dominated the discussion, but instead of talking about the set topic, we dragged the talk into becoming a gripe about self-help groups, particularly AA. I didn’t realize until too late that I should have been pressing the point that we are unable to change the groups – which work successfully as they are – thus any change occurring needs to be within ourselves.
Another observation I made was that a fellow ARP participant who drank on an outside leave pass is giving himself hell over it. I’ll have a word with him when I get a chance and give him some encouragement. (I did just that, but I learned a few months later that N*-san started drinking almost immediately upon being discharged, borrowed money and traveled around the country to drink before finally sneaking into the Tama Mausoleum and hiding in the woods there, crawling out at nights to steal the sake that had been left as offerings to members of the Imperial Family buried there, including Emperor Hirohito).
After the meeting Y** and I met at A* Civic Center, mainly to talk about the morning and to recharge the battery on my PC. I also Skyped M and Y* booked our stay in Osaka for my exams at the end of the month. I need to see T****-san and let her know what’s happened.
As my free time is running out, I returned to K* feeling exhausted following a long day with lots of walking and emotional drain. I forwent my usual early departure and left for AA as late as possible.
Peter, my sponsor (I guess?), called just as the meeting began and we talked for a while, yet even the T**** Group speakers continued for an interminably long time and I slept through quite a large portion of proceedings.
Thoroughly worn out when I got back to the hospital on a gloriously starry night, I called Y***, who was barely understandable over the phone as she had been crying and has developed hay fever. I felt terrible for having placed such enormous strain on her and adding her to the list of people’s lives I’ve left a trail of destruction in my wake.
March 11, 2011–Holy Fuck….
A sense of fluster greeted me upon waking. I wanted to take the morning fairly easily, but I’m not really in a situation to do anything like that and I feel swamped. The application for sick leave needs to be filled out by my former employer as well, so I need to fix that up. All sorts of people need to be contacted as well, so it’s time to get that into order, too. I spent the pre-breakfast time trying to get all sorts of things in order.
I had gotten a relatively refreshing sleep but found the snorers ready to annoy me again in the morning as their trumpeting distracted my concentration while I was attempting to gather my thoughts. I’m feeling more of a mess with each passing second.
Having forgotten that this morning is the time for doctors to do their rounds, I felt somewhat thwarted in my plans and got a little panicky, but once I’d gotten things on track, I began to feel better.
I contacted a couple of people I haven’t been in touch with for a long time – Fukushima-san from my M* days, K* from AA and Kato-san from LMI – and sorted out things like contact numbers, AA materials and getting sick pay that I don’t really deserve, but need desperately to pay off my hospital bill. I’m now waiting for the doctors’ rounds, filling in my diary and waiting to get through more.
Rounds were pretty much as expected. There wasn’t much to be said that hasn’t already been discussed. Dr. T* came by, asking how I felt.
“What more can I say? I’m scared shitless and I’m certainly not confident, but there’s only one thing for me to do (go to AA) and that’s all I can do.”
He nodded and left. (We will repeat this conversation almost verbatim dozens of times over the coming months).
I chatted briefly with T-san, updating her on my situation (but forgetting again to mention I-san’s help). We discussed the possibility of extending my stay at the hospital to allow me to get welfare after the exams instead of before and thus avoid the red tape and rigmarole associated with traveling halfway across the country while getting welfare. It remains a possibility.
By the time rounds had finished there was barely enough of a period remaining to do much more than call Y* and give her an update from where I sat in a nearby park filled with lovely plum blossoms and basking in bright sunshine, but the scene was soon blighted by an chillingly cold wind blowing in occasionally and spoiling the atmosphere. Our combined confusion made for a somewhat comical conversation, but I felt at ease talking with her. I wish I could make Y* feel happy – she’s such a glorious woman! And stunningly beautiful to boot.
Lunch appeared and I used a spare few minutes to sneak in some photos of the hospital to use in the guidelines I made. If nothing worse, the weather was ideal for photography, even if my mobile phone wasn’t exactly the prime tool to take shots with.
Following the midday meal I took things easy outside in the increasingly cold park while writing this entry in the lead-up to the day’s session. I’ve still got a few minutes over and will use these to update the notes I’ve made on K* Hospital.
Inpatient Group Therapy today split into two small groups of five courtesy of the number of ARP patients recently increasing to 10. One of the slated participants in my group was absent and the remaining four patients were at various stages of the ARP, thus the theme for the session became 初・中・後期のＡＲＰでは断酒はどう思うか？(What’s your Opinion of Sobriety at the Initial/Intermediate/Tertiary Stage of the ARP?). Group rules apply, which require the details of the meeting to be confidential.
Today’s session was tremendous. The four members, myself included, are all talkative, open and frank. It was interesting to hear what people were feeling.
The guy in the early stage (T*-san) had initially been confident of quitting alone but has since started to think that perhaps doing so is not so easy.
M*-san, in the intermediate stage, feels at ease with himself and the support he gets from his family (with whom he also works), and his relatives have committed to help him and are actively engaging in the recovery process, participating in family oriented programs.
M*-san, the other participant, is also in the early stages of the ARP, but is being hospitalized for the 10th time for alcoholism, so he knows well what it’s all about, and actively engaged in the discussion, talking about the agonies of trying to cope with our disease, which has already given him a stroke at age 39 that left him paralyzed on the right-hand side of his body.
I spoke of the pain I feel at the hurt I caused the girls, which brought me to the brink of tears, but I reaffirmed the belief that the only hope of ever restring the relationship lay with me remaining sober.
Then, just as the session came to its scheduled ending time, clinical psychologist S* S***, who had chaired the session, suddenly spoke up.
“Is it shaking? Is that an earthquake?”
M*-san, the guy with paralysis, was quick to answer.
“Who knows,” he said with a slur and a laugh. “I shake all year ‘round and couldn’t tell the difference.”
We started to laugh but were stopped abruptly as the shaking became perceptible and transformed into more of a jolt. Soon, the room was quivering violently and seemingly likely to continue without end.
S-san jumped up and opened the door to the room to ensure a means of escape should we need it. T-san dove under a table and the three remaining guys, including me, just sat in our seats filled with terror and watching the roof of the 40-year-old building as it swayed and creaked. I prayed that the worst was not about to happen.
It was the longest earthquake I could ever remember experiencing in my 22 years in Japan and I was filled with relief when the building finally stopped shaking. I’m sure the others in the room were feeling something akin to what was going through my mind, but no one voiced it.
Once things stopped shuddering, it appeared life had returned to normal, as is normally the case whenever there is a reasonably large quake in Japan that hasn’t immediately destroyed everything.
I returned to the ward, picked up my bag and PC, then headed toward T* for my pre-arranged meeting with Y**.
Suspecting the trains would stop running in the wake of such a huge quake (they normally shut down for a while after temblors), I headed to T* Station to wait for Y instead of the civic center where we had planned to spend a couple of hours together. It was then that I first began to feel something horribly untoward had happened, and this feeling became worse when I struggled to connect to Y** via mobile phone despite calling her over and over again and never getting anything other than a busy tone. It was at that moment I noticed the almost deathly quiet of the area, a rarity in Japan where noise is a part and parcel of life. The absence of noise was caused by the lack of trains. None were running at all. As I approached T* Station, I heard a loudspeaker announcement, which confirmed that something out of the ordinary had occurred.
“This is HCity Hall. The earthquake that struck at 2:46 p.m. registered 5 (on the Japanese scale) in the City of H. Neither JR nor Keio Line trains are running. Please refer to friends or radio broadcasts for further information. It will be difficult to use phones at the moment. Please act in a relaxed manner and do not panic,” the female official announced at intervals every few minutes over the public address system in place for emergencies precisely like this.
I continued madly dialing Y** on my mobile phone and finally got through to her at 3:5 p.m. We both realized that trains would not be running for a while. She was stuck in a train stopped between T* and Hstations (three stops away from T*). We agreed it would be best for her to turn back and head for her home.
I, meanwhile, still somewhat obvious to the sheer enormity of the quake, went as planned to the A Civic Center, where I peacefully added to my notes on K Hospital a number of photos I had snapped earlier in the day.
I blissfully worked away at the notes, occasionally looking at my usual websites and remaining utterly unaware that all heal had broken loose across the country, including K*, where in my absence staff were frantically running about trying to confirm the location of all patients.
On the walk back to the hospital the continued absence of any train traffic rattling by had already confirmed to me that it would be highly unlikely for any services into H*in time for the night’s AA meeting, so I was not in the least surprised when a nurse (Hatakenaka-san) informed me upon my return to the ward that all outside leave passes for the night, mine included, had been rescinded. As I went into the common room adjoining the nurse station, I saw footage from Miyagi Prefecture screening on TV and realized for the first time the magnitude of what had happened (so much for continuing to insist that I had once been a top newshound…!)
For the rest of the night, I joined most of the other patients with our eyes transfixed to the TV news. Many remarked on never having experienced such a huge quake, and their feelings were confirmed as fact later in the night when the Meteorological Agency announced the quake was Japan’s strongest of all time and the fifth most-powerful in temblor in history.
I managed to get through to M** after several attempts to reassure her that Y** and I were all right and then contacted poor Y** through a public phone with the mobile networks on emergency footing and rendered effectively useless to ordinary callers. I couldn’t get through to check up on T and the girls to see if they were all right.
Reports came in every few minutes of aftershocks jolting the Tohoku Region and every part of Japan lining the Pacific Ocean coastline seemed to be on full alert, waiting in trepidation for more quakes or tsunami, whose horrifying footage was striking fear among all the patients in the mental ward. It must be noted, however, that the biggest worries among the psychiatric ward patients as I write are about not getting dinner served as scheduled at 6 p.m. exactly, being forbidden to leave the hospital tomorrow and the weekend horse races being called off.
My night off from AA proved to be anything but restful as I watched the news intently and furiously tried to record whatever I saw, felt or remembered.
As 9 p.m. neared, I raced downstairs for a shower, shave and bath, then returned upstairs to continue writing.
Some of the patients, notably T-san who was fascinated to the point of obsession as to how foreign countries would react to the disaster – were too animated for me to be able to concentrate properly, so I sat out in the freezing cold outdoor smoking area and scribbled away madly.
It’s now around 10 p.m. and time for me to check on poor Y**’s progress getting home. When I last contacted her a couple of hours ago, she was in Seiseki Sakuragaoka waiting for a bus to Inagi, from where she could walk home. (Y eventually made it home after a 7-hour trip – it would normally take about 40 minutes to make the same journey – by bus and on foot. Her entire family was also safe and sound. It was with considerable relief that I heard that news).
Just to round off a horrible day, I received a letter from my university informing me that my appeal against the amount of fees being demanded of us had been rejected and that I would have to pay the full amount being sought. At least they had agreed to allow payment by credit card. An ironic and now Pyrrhic victory considering that I will have to get rid of my card to get welfare. Shit, it’s been a cunt of a year!
Anyway, it’s time for bed now and I’ve got to mail Y* again. Things are getting scary as they start talking about the threats to a nuclear reactor in Fukushima Prefecture resulting from the earthquakes and tsunami. Not a good sign amid constant reports of new aftershocks.
March 12, 2011
Every day this month has been mentally draining (none like yesterday, though, which outdid them all) and today was no exception.
I was delighted to get permission to go out, especially as it seemed as though we’d be stuck inside all day after the disasters. But when I got to the station, there were no trains running. I ended up spending close to two hours waiting for a way to get to T and meeting Ryohei T, our lawyer.
He was tremendous, spending close on three hours with us. Most of what he talked about involved getting background on my marriage. In the end, he left me with a few orders. They were: * Ask City Hall to request Shimosatoryo to house me from March 29
- Talk to the city about school fees and work out whether they can be paid
- Get tax payment forms for myself and T
- Extend my hospital stay
- Wait for contact from Ho Terrace, hear back from the lawyer and then go in to
meet him again and sign a contract for him to work with us.
After the meeting, Y* and I had a huge Chinese lunch, then went onto McDonald’s for a cuppa and a McFlurry.
We stayed there nearly all afternoon, looking at jobs (there was nothing there) and taking it easy.
Plans to meet Peter had to be cast aside due to the unreliable train performance today brought about by yesterday’s massive earthquake.
Y* and I parted, she heading home and me setting off to T** for an AA meeting, which was as boring as hell.
I am exhausted, tired and frustrated that Ratched will be waiting for me when I get home after a long walk tonight.
The walk home was enjoyable, unexpectedly so due to the accompaniment of a fellow ARP patient (T*-san), a teacher who is very serious, educated and extremely well-spoken. He’s been a great inspiration, as well as a source of tremendous new Japanese words to enrich my vocabulary (if only I could retain them in my booze-damaged memory).
I was totally deflated when I got home and quickly went to sleep.
March 13, 2011
The morning marked a brisk start to the day as I fired off a number of replies to e-mails I had been sitting on from a few days to a few hours. Typing in English on the phone is a pain in the arse.
I spent much of the pre-breakfast period watching updates on the Tohoku earthquake. The situation is becoming increasingly alarming with aftershocks and the precarious state of the Fukushima nuclear reactor, which appears to be falling apart at the seams after it blew yesterday.
Normally (three Sundays each month), Sunday is a day of rest, but the ARP program is packed today, starting with a game of softball from 10 a.m. and then an AA Message session from the H*AA Group after lunch. The softball game is highly regarded by AA members, so I am quite looking forward to it. I’m sure it’ll be fun and it will be great to get out and run around a bit.
Softball was an absolute riot! As with all types of fun in Japan, the game was taken very seriously. Both the AA groups and patients arrived close on an hour before the start of the scheduled beginning of the game and began practicing in earnest. I threw myself into things and had a hell of a time.
I would have liked to have joined the AA group having lunch at the hospital (a barbie without beer), but we patients had to go back inside to eat.
After the game was finished, I climbed halfway up the side of a cliff and retrieve a homerun ball that had been lost in the underbrush covering it.
For the record, the hospital drunks defeated the dry drunks by 14-12 over five innings, with yours truly hitting a whopping outfield fly in his first at-bat, getting singles in his next two (knocking in a couple of runs with the second of these), and then struck out wildly in his final visit to the plate. Fielding at center, I took a couple of catches and enjoyed the run around.
Returning for lunch, I relaxed, read, had a nap and then went downstairs for the ARP’s second session of the day, an AA Message from the H*Group under the theme of 経験を分かち合う(Sharing Experiences).
The meeting ended 10 minutes short of its allotted 90 minutes, then I walked from the hospital to McDonald’s in Nishi H*, for the sake of the walk itself, to enjoy the beautiful and sunny spring day and because I needed the exercise.
Without smoking, I was ravenous and ate as much as my meager finances would permit. After a couple of hours of surfing the Net and talking to Y* and M, I headed to the D* Civic Center for what will turn out to be my final meeting with the Nishi H**Group as the reactor meltdown in Fukushima means facilities need to cut down on their power use and most public offices are closing at dusk. Many businesses are also shutting at 6 p.m. (instead of 8 p.m. or later) to cut down on electricity use.
After the AA meeting, I returned to the hospital with another ARP patient (T-san), talking about how the earthquake could have the long-term benefit of leading to greater developments in alternative energy. By the time I got back to the hospital, I was utterly exhausted and fell asleep within minutes without talking to, or mailing, Y.
March 14, 2011
The apocalypse is here! And it has nothing to do with the snorers whose raucous noise woke me periodically through the night.
It is one of the most bizarre days I have ever experienced – and, being in the looney bin, I’ve been through some pretty weird ones.
After the snorers woke me shortly before 2 a.m. I staggered out into the corridor and slammed head-on into another patient groggily stumbling back to his room after visiting the toilet. Walking a few meters further on toward the smoking area at the end of the corridor, I noticed another patient – one who constantly confronts medical staff at the Nurse Station by “reminding” them that he is a trained “killing machine (殺人鬼)” – petting two stuffed toy dolls that he constantly carries around with him, and talking to them. These events augured the weird sort of day that was due to come my way.
Needing to get tax records for both myself and T on behalf of my lawyer, I left the hospital immediately upon eating breakfast. I had spent the morning watching coverage of the earthquake and realized developments had taken a turn for the much worse after I’d slept so early the previous night.
My original plan was to walk to City Hall, pick up the tax records and then get back to the hospital in time for the afternoon ARP session, a walk scheduled for 1:45 to 3 p.m. When that finished, I was going to join Y** in H****, change the payment details for my PC, look over some jobs and then proceed on to AA. None of these plans would come to fruition.
Frantic calls and mails with Y* alerted to the gravity of the situation. We were facing power shortages due to last week’s Tohoku earthquake, tsunami and the damage these did to the nuclear power plant in Fukushima Prefecture. Two reactors at the plant have already undergone partial meltdowns and a third generator blew this morning. Tokyo Electric Power Co. (TEPCO) insists the plants and explosions there have not released dangerous levels of radiation. I’m not so sure and have spent a large part of the day basking in the warmth of a glorious sunshine that may, in fact, be frying me with radiation from the inside-out.
I gave up the plan to go to City Hall and instead found myself at the A* Branch Office. The walk to the center felt disturbing. Normally, leaving the hospital at that time you would see a large number of hospital workers heading off to work by walking up the hill from the train station, but today there was almost nobody else to be seen and very few cars.
Almost nobody was at the branch office, either, so I got the tax forms I needed within minutes. Something seemed unearthly quiet, and I realized it was the absence of trains. They run either side of the hospital at perceptible distances and make a noticeable, rattling noise as they pass, but there was nothing going on today except eerie silence.
Y** called to let me know she’d deposited some money in my account to get me by until we could meet again. It – and Y** – are Godsends. But it also showed me a scarier side of the situation as T**** Station employees roped off the station, turned people away and lines began forming at the supermarket almost an hour before it was due to open.
I headed into a coffee shop, booted up my PC and got onto Skype to update M** on my situation. After I’d called and got in touch with Y*** again, it was time to return to the hospital. There had been some speculation in the morning that we would have an enforced power outage for 90 minutes from 9:20 a.m., but it didn’t eventuate.
I lined up to buy bananas at a grocer selling produce dirt cheap because perishables aren’t being delivered into Tokyo. It took me a good 45 minutes to get through, which would still have been better than the supermarket, where the checkout lines wound through aisles and into the rear of the store. With no trains, and buses forming the only other means of transport, people were wandering around aimlessly in the station area.
Coming back to the hospital produced another shock. The third reactor at the Fukushima plant had blown and a warning issued that the place was about to be hit by another tsunami.
Lunch came soon after, but before it was served, hospital administrators informed us of a few rules that would now apply to all ward inmates.
Shortage of available staff due to their inability to commute could drastically curtail activities on the ARP, starting from today with the cancellation of the scheduled walk.
Water restrictions are also set to be enforced, limiting us to showers on Mondays and Fridays with no bathing permitted at any other time.
Power stoppages will apply from 6 p.m. nightly, necessitating the move of the evening meal forward by one hour to 5 p.m. to allow time for plates and cutlery to be washed. No restrictions will be added to those already in place regarding movements outside of the hospital. Food, however, may be rationed.
I took in the information and headed out for a walk, where the apocalyptic atmosphere was heightened. Again, few vehicles were on the road, stores were shuttered and the civic center shut down. It looks like I’ll be stuck in the hospital all week. Now I must try and see if I can extend my stay here.
Weeks of exhaustion and exertion took over in the night. Without having seen the social worker to ask to extend my stay, I had a shower, ate dinner, then lay down for a nap. I was briefly awoken before 8 p.m. when the nurse brought me in my medication, then again by the snorers around midnight and then left undisturbed by everything but sleep until six in the morning.
March 15, 2011
Despite my best sleep in weeks, I woke still feeling tired and sore. There had apparently been a rather large aftershock in the morning, but I didn’t notice as I was still in the throes of a deep slumber.
My peace of mind didn’t last long as news broke of a third explosion at the quake-affected nuclear power plant in Fukushima Prefecture. The likelihood of radiation exposure is getting higher every moment. It seems only a matter of time before the nuclear plant goes into a total meltdown.
I got an awful foreboding of how the aftermath of the quake is shaping as a battle between man and nature, but the tsunami that wiped away huge areas of coastal Tohoku last week has already showed that this is not a battle humans have a hope of winning.
The clock has just struck 9 a.m. and NHK, the national broadcaster, has announced that radiation three times the average annual absorption has leaked from the reactor.
We also have our ARP on this morning, so some things are returning to normal. It’s still horribly scary, though.
Incredibly, the ARP went ahead as scheduled in the normal format of a 30-minute video followed by an hour-long session with comments from inpatients and outpatients.
The meeting was chaired by nurse N** S***, went from 10-11:30 a.m. and was conducted under the theme of お酒で忘れられないエピソード(Unforgettable Alcoholic Episodes), with the video a tale of a recovered alcoholic running a noodle restaurant that doubles as a shelter for alcoholics and entitled 旭川ラーメン屋日記(Asahikawa Noodle Restaurateur’s Diary).
It felt incredibly bizarre to be undergoing this session at a time when a nuclear reactor was on the verge of melting down and creating a massive disaster. Consequently, it was extremely difficult or me to concentrate. With so much else going on in my life at the moment, it was also extremely demanding. I am scared, depressed, isolated and on the verge of breaking down. Under such circumstances, I was hardly a constructive participant in the discussion.
After the session I met with T-san and extended my stay in the hospital until at least March 24 and then discussed matters related to entering Shimosatoryo. It’s not going to be easy, but I’ve got to give it my best. I called T-sensei and got him to arrange my entry into the dormitory and then headed off to T* to meet Y**.
The streets seemed a little calmer and busier than they had been yesterday, and the trains were running – albeit on a very reduced schedule – which seemed to contribute to the general serenity, though I’m sure everyone must be as on edge as I am.
My time with Y* was a bit of a disaster. I am worried, gloomy and on the verge of panic. It showed as I struggled to converse with her and was terse and jumpy. I didn’t like that she was reluctant to kiss me goodbye in public, especially as I am filled with a foreboding sense of gloom. I was filled with despair when we parted.
On the train home, K*-san called and blasted me for not contacting him following the quake. I was at a loss as he’d told me not to call him. Anyway, it was over quickly and this time he told me to contact him regularly before he rang off.
I headed to A Civic Center, where I recharged my PC battery and called M, who was as worried as I am. It was a quick walk home, accompanied by a call to Y**, and then an awful bento for dinner at the ungodly hour of 5 p.m. With the scheduled rolling blackouts coming into force in our area for the first time today, tensions are rising even higher.
Just to get me even further on edge, I had to do my final interview before discharge today. It was over in minutes, so I called A** I, T’s friend and co-worker, and asked her to pass on a message to the girls that I loved them whatever happened and waiting for them whenever they want. I also stupidly told her that I would be discharged March 29, which will invariably lead to delays in delivery of any items I have demanded T** return to me, and that I had asked to get by March 17 ahead of my initial discharge date of March 18.
The evening blackout was scheduled to take place from 6:20-10 p.m. and was to apply to the hospital tonight. The ward was filled with trepidation as blackout time neared, but the lights stayed on even as the deadline to commence the power outage passed. For about an hour or so around either side of the scheduled blackout start, public broadcasts gave an update of the situation and asked citizens to cooperate, remain calm and refrain as much as possible from driving as there were places without street lights or traffic signals operating. All AA meetings for this week have been called off, so I retired to bed early, falling asleep while reading.
A large aftershock rattling the 40-year-old hospital building to its foundations woke me with a jolt at around 10:30 p.m. Fortunately, it was over quickly and without damage. I slept again, following a check from nurse N N and a flurried exchange of e-mails with Y, including one with a photo of her decked out in a helmet, which gave me a chuckle and did much to relieve the tension I’d been feeling.
March 16, 2011
Having slept early, I woke at about 4 a.m., only minutes before the snorers began their pre-dawn onslaught. I was greeted by a mail from a former colleague working for Irish TV, who I’d assisted the previous night by introducing him to C** to provide a comment for their coverage.
Once again I was filled with tension and nervousness, which I tried to dissipate by pinging off e-ails to whoever I thought might be interested in my situation, namely A, M** and Y. I read Hart’s War, scoured my mobile to find updates on the situation with the nuclear reactor (vainly) and drank copious quantities of coffee. I decided to prepare documents for the divorce this morning, but realized I also had to report on my situation to social worker M T, and will do so in a note so I can head out and use my PC unimpeded.
I’m being brought to the brink of tears of laughter as I write. I’m in the common kitchen watching NHK’s coverage of the Tohoku-Kanto earthquake and another patient (E-san) is jokingly complaining about the efforts to care for elderly quake victims, arguing that they should be left to die as they would do so naturally in a couple of years anyway, or be euthanized to prevent us in Tokyo from having to pay or sacrifice more to care for them. I shouldn’t have laughed, but he was funny and I know he doesn’t really mean it.
The morning was spending sending out –mails and reading up on the Fukushima reactor, in addition to lining up to buy some cheap bananas and Pepsi. Nuclear experts don’t seem to be overly perturbed by what’s happening at the moment, and say that even in the event of a worst-case scenario – something I don’t want to happen – such as a complete meltdown, Tokyo should not be placed in a situation of massive threat. It was highly reassuring.
I headed back to the hospital for a veritable feast of hamburger steak and veggies, topped off by chips, cookies and chokkies.
Today’s first session was the lecture アルコール関連の薬(Pharmaceuticals Related to Alcohol), given by pharmacist Dr. J* T**** in the Group therapy Room from 1:45-2:45 p.m., a session shortened because of an impending blackout scheduled to begin at 3:20 p.m. today.
The session today was a bit of a drain. It was the second time I had taken the class (the first was more than a month ago) and I still enjoyed it, but the contents were almost identical, so I spent more of the time listening through one ear and at least half my concentration went into writing this diary entry.
The afternoon was spent at A Civic Center, recharging my PC battery in the limited time I had available to me before I had to be back for the morsel that passed as dinner. Rations have been reduced in the wake of the Tohoku disasters and I feel constantly hungry. I took it easy, reading a book in the session between dinner and the evening program, the T* AA Group Message.
Tonight’s AA Message featured five members speaking of their experiences before gaining lasting sobriety. The session in the Group Therapy Room ran from 7:10-8:30 p.m. and was conducted under the theme of 認める(Recognize, admit).
The session, my first AA meeting in four days, came immediately at the end of a scheduled blackout that again failed to eventuate. It was great, as the participants opened their hearts and spoke frankly, and aided even further by the fact that those in attendance were different from the T group people who normally show up.
I was exhausted by the time the meeting was over, and absolutely freezing as temperatures receded back to midwinter levels. I slept as early as I could, particularly as I had woken at 4 a.m. and was really feeling the pinch by 9:30 p.m.
March 17, 2011
Yet another sleepless night – courtesy of the snorers, of course – left me feeling utterly drained, listless and totally lacking in motivation. I couldn’t be bothered doing anything today, and barely managed to grind my way through reading a novel in the morning. Not having the inducement of a meeting with Y** also left me feeling alone and isolated. I am depressed, sad and filled with worthless self-pity. I need my Y** and need to regain my AA rhythm.
I gouged myself on junk food throughout the day, wrote out a list of why I need to give thanks to other ARP participants (the only productive activity I undertook in the morning) and finally got stuck into writing this entry after lunch and in the immediate lead-up to the afternoon’s session; one I arrived early for and was delighted to see had adopted my proposal to sit in a circle to make discussion and communication easier.
The Nursing Program was chaired by S*** S* from 1:45-3 p.m., role-playing on how we can approach situations where we’ve been accused of drinking but haven’t been. This followed announcements by patients due to leave (including yours truly).
I loved the program session today. I gave my farewell speech, making sure I thanked all the other program participants (See my comments about each participant at the end of this entry).
T*-san pointed out how easily he’d slipped into lying during the exercise, and I realized how I’d done the same thing. I realized what a strong attraction alcohol has for us, and this sent me into a deep depression. Things would get worse.
After the class, I went to the civic center to use my PC and came across a message from the Australian Embassy urging all non-essential Australians to leave Tokyo. I had received a postcard from T* telling me she couldn’t do anything regarding my luggage as she had to deal with the earthquake at work. I called A I, pointed out the message from the Embassy and asked if she could get the girls to safety in Australia. I agreed to pass on the message and call back later in the night. She did so, informing me that T* felt Japan was still safe enough for the kids to be here. I was furious, but reassured again through a call to Y, who clearly showed her love for me in a way that T has never done.
My Thanks to ARP-Associated People (Notes given as reasons for thanking)
The Angels in White (nursing and medical staff) and hospital employees
T-san – Changed from fucking around to getting serious. Showed leadership about the program. Gave me plenty of time to think because his snoring kept me awake.
K*-san – Developed the urge to stop drinking. Consulted me for help.
M*-san – Tremendous sense of humor, romance, lecher. Brightened many days.
K*-san – Very quiet, but when we talked, was always funny. Makings of a world champion snorer.
N*-san – Inspiration. Can see your eternal struggles, yet you keep fighting daily. Asking for help.
M*-san – Knowing your own self. Saying lots with few words.
I*-san – Always bright, cheerful. Wonderful mood-maker. Friendly to everyone.
H*-san – Wisdom. Advice. Experience. Good and kind companion on walks back from AA. Sometimes openly praised me, which did wonders for my self-respect.
T*-san – Provided new motivation, just as I was getting stale. Taught me many new and worthy Japanese words, but only wish I could remember them as easily as I recall dirty language and slang. Extremely important person for helping other alcoholics to recover.
March 18, 2011
Today was another original discharge date that I had to postpone, this time to accommodate exams in Osaka next week and my chances of getting welfare would have been jeopardized had I left the hospital today and immediately applied for assistance while traveling across the country. It’s still early in the morning as I write and I am seething with rage.
T’s obstinacy is driving me even battier. I have to try and avoid getting even angrier at her to avoid triggering the urge to drink. I feel sorry for her and am praying for her salvation and happiness, but her continued refusal to acknowledge my right to live is becoming increasingly frustrating.
My spirits are even further dampened by the snorers. It is becoming agonizing. I have not slept well in weeks and the severe lack of sleep is making it extremely difficult to cope with the situation confronting me.
On top of all this, we are going through a bitterly cold spell and can’t use the heaters because of the fuel shortage brought about by the Tohoku disasters.
It seems that the fates have been conspiring against me for years now. Apart from the unwavering support I get from Y*, and the family in Oz, I feel like I have absolutely nothing working in my favor.
Rounds were routine, with the doctors have nothing new to talk to me about. Dr. T* checked up on my condition and the social worker chatted to me briefly about the recommendation to leave Japan issued by the Embassy.
Lunch was terrible, with the power blackout rendering cooked meals impossible and transforming what had previously been the heartiest meal of the day into nothing more than a cold and trifling morsel.
I spent the lead-up to the afternoon session reading a book and fighting off the urge to sleep.
Inpatient Group Therapy was chaired by nurse M* M with assistance from clinical psychologist S S* and social worker M** T*** in the Group Therapy Room from 1:45-2:45 p.m. under the theme of がまん(Patience).
The meeting was interesting in the sense that none of the ARP patients admitted to being able to control their cravings. I commented that I have always done whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, so I was making an effort to relate to activities the way I saw others coping with them even if things weren’t exactly progressing as they may have wanted.
At the end of the meeting, those attending our last session of Inpatient Group Therapy (H*-san and I) got to speak to the group. I thanked all and spoke of my fears upon being discharged.
During the meeting, I had received an e-mail from Y, who was early and had come directly to the hospital instead of going to the A** civic center, where we had planned to spend the afternoon before going our separate ways.
We walked leisurely to the hall under a brilliant sun, but being bitten by a chilly wind. I was shocked to walk into the center and see T* sitting there in the foyer, working with someone. I realized it wasn’t good for us to be there, so I gave my legal wife the dirtiest look I could muster and Y and I walked into T**** and spent a couple of quiet hours relaxing in a Mos Burger restaurant.
When we’d finished, I headed into H*, which was extremely dark as companies and stores turned out their lights to conserve electricity, and crowded with people flocking home from work instead of staying in the office and using up electricity.
The AA meeting was a business meeting at the HCatholic Church from 7-8:30 p.m. I arrived early and ate my way through some sandwiches Y had prepared for me. I couldn’t really get involved, but used the time to write my diary.
Before the meeting, Hiyoko-san gave me some tremendous advice about living on welfare, including getting transport payments from the city and discounts on such things as NHK license fees and utility bills.
Getting back to the hospital, I called I** but the freak chance meeting at the civic center, especially with me carrying a full rucksack and dragging a bag behind me has probably convinced T* I am moving in with Y immediately and, as expected, she did not answer. I guess the next contact from T*** is going to be through her lawyers.
There was no such trouble calling Y* and she was delighted to talk as we briefly spoke, said goodnight and I dropped into a deep slumber, but not before I had tucked into a large quantity of the enormous amount of food Y* had brought along for me the previous day.
March 19, 2011
Just to annoy the bejeezuz out of me again today, I was woken by trumpeting snores in the middle of the night for the umpteenth time. It’s not easy to fight alcoholism when you’re waking up frustrated, irritated and sleepy every day. I like T-san (in small doses) and am grateful to him for the aid he has given me at times during my stay in the hospital, but his fucking snoring has driven me crazy and is causing bile to rise in my gut even now as I write. I must admit I’m delighted he won’t be around for the next two nights and I might finally be able to get a decent sleep, though there’s still K*-san to worry about.
Outpatient Group Therapy ran from 10-11:30 a.m., featuring a 30- minute video entitled もうひとつの人生①(One More Life I) and an hour-long discussion under the theme of 恥をかいたこと、恥をかいた時は、どうするか？(What do you do After Doing Something Shameful?) and chaired by clinical psychologist S* S*** in the Group Therapy Room.
Today’s meeting was tremendous personally as the theme was a derivation of one I had suggested based on the shame I feel with the underlying contempt for alcoholics and deadbeat dads that I detect among some of the people I have dealt with in the real world over the past few weeks. I realized these fears sprung from the cunning nature of alcohol, which made me feel better.
I’d spent some of the morning talking to I** about getting my possessions. She said T*** planned to pack them over this long weekend and send them off. I was delighted! It represented something of a thaw and gave me some hope. It wasn’t to last too long and I would soon be plummeting back down into a deep depression.
Following the session, I received a message to call I. I did so and was told that T* wanted to send all my belongings. This spelled trouble. I had nowhere to put them and sensed she was trying to trap me into sending them to Y’s home. I tried valiantly to find somewhere to store my belongings, but wasn’t having much success and knew T* was doing this to me on purpose.
I asked I** if she’d store the goods, but she refused. I headed off on foot to the HAA meeting, buoyant because of the warm spring weather and hopeful of getting my belongings back. I called K-san, hoping that I could ask N*-san’s parents for help, and he gave me a serving for being so goddamned selfish and not showing concern for her in-laws in quake-ravaged Sendai (I had actually mailed to check on their condition a week earlier).
After the meeting, I contacted I** again and all she wanted to talk about was Y. I started going along with it, then told her it was a separate matter and that she must bring the listed materials as promised by March 21, with the remainder of the goods to be collected at a time and in a mAr to be decided during mediation. I then rung her off, but my wonderful day – by then encompassing lunch with Y in a small park in central H*– had been utterly ruined.
Y** and I went our separate ways as she caught the train and I walked home from H. I called K-san to update him on events and he again called me a selfish bastard for not caring about the kids, only caring for myself because I could not meet them. I was despondent, tired, but blessed by the absence of T*-san and his snores, so collapsed into a heap on my bed at around 9 p.m. and slept.
I got my best night’s sleep in weeks, though I still woke a couple of times during the night, as well as inordinately early on Sunday morning.
March 20, 2011
Today is my first entirely free day in a few weeks and I’ve been blessed with warmth sunshine, an early leave pass, an AA meeting and date with Y* – couldn’t ask for much more than that, though the residue of yesterday’s sourness remains.
I scoffed down breakky, then headed off to H as quickly as I could, mailing C** a letter of thanks along the way. He seems to have joined everyone else in giving up on me, too.
I got to H, fiddling around on my PC for a while and then heading off to AA to give the PC a recharge. T* was there and we chatted about mutual dependency for a short time before other members came in, including one woman who turned me on badly and who I admonished myself over because I desperately wanted to fuck her. Things got worse, though, as I had been expecting to meet a former ARP patient and attend the meeting together, but he had not turned up. I called him and he had been drinking. It shattered me. He had been such a tremendous inspiration during the ARP and I felt powerless because I had no idea of how to help him. There were positives, though, because I had a great chat with I, and also to Tada-san, who I realized had been thinking of my welfare when he had warded me off helping others a couple of weeks earlier by allowing me to focus on my own recovery instead of worrying about someone else’s. Thanking him brightened his usually gloomy countenance in a way I’d never seen before.
So it was that I once again headed off to join Y*** while feeling gloomy. God, I’ve already put that poor woman through Hell. Once again I told her that I am a piece of shit and she should dump me before I hurt her even more, but she went into a passionate spiel about recovery and the powerful love she feels for me was evident in her face and the zealous manner of her speech. God, I’m blessed!
We enjoyed a brief picnic lunch and I headed back to the hospital, spending the remainder of the afternoon botting ciggies off other patients.
I had received another message to contact I** and did so, this time to be told T* would now deliver my belongings on march 26 and sought to meet before mediation. Ideally, I’d like to avoid the courts, too, so kept my options open and agreed to examine the proposal, which infuriated Y when I told her in a call immediately after. She thought I was agreeing to meet T* and I alone, but I had no such intention and simply did not want to be accused of refusing T’s offer of cooperation. I had told I** I would get back to her on Tuesday, and Y* and I agreed that we would do so, refusing the discussion offer by pointing out that she has cancelled such opportunities in the past and that any witnesses could no longer be bothered dealing with her.
Having decided that, I hit the sack early again, albeit unintentionally. I woke briefly to call Y** and wish her a good night, then dropped off into a blissful T*-san-free Sunday night sleep.
March 21, 2011
A wet and bleak morning matching my feelings was at least offset by not being cold and, later, a burst of productive creativity. I spent much of the morning catching up on this diary and waiting to have my temperature taken. I finally got sick of the nurse failing to show up and headed out for a walk, or more correctly, to go and buy some ciggies after the day’s incessant rain meant Y* called off our afternoon meeting.
I walked into T****sanguchi Station, mostly for the change in scenery, but also for the exercise. I came back to the hospital, snapping photos of the plum blossoms and getting increasingly depressed and lonely along the way. I drew a picture to thank staff and finished right on the stroke of lunchtime.
Following the midday meal I packed my bag and set off in the rain for T. I spent the bulk of the afternoon creating forms to make it simpler for our lawyer to understand the background to our case. Some shopping, a call to Y* to discuss packing for Osaka and the move to the home, as well as more diary writing filled the time leading up to the early, 5 p.m. dinnertime, with the wet weather having rendered outdoor activities impractical.
Given an extra hour by the early meals, I spent the time drawing a picture for E* Bancho, then proceeded into the rain and radiation for the H**AA Group meeting.
Getting home I made a quick call to Y* filled with ribald jokes that put me in a better mood than I had been in all day, then jumped into bed for an early night.
March 22, 2011
Reality set in again following two nights of blissful slumber with the return of T-san and his cacophonic snoring. He “kindly” woke me on schedule at around 4 a.m., giving me plenty of time to get all sorts of things done, such as writing this diary, changing my sheets and penning a letter to the K* Hospital staff to thank them for their care and attention. I’m very grateful to him, but in a sleepily irritate way I prove my gratitude by drawing him a picture of thanks because, when it all comes down to it, he’s been bloody good to me and a good mate during my stay here.
Today’s Outpatient Group Therapy session featured the second and final part of the story of an Asahikawa noodle restaurant owner (and recovering alcoholic) who also operates a lodge for alkies. The 30-minute video tracked the lives of alcoholics trying to recover from their disease. The session, chaired by T-san, followed with an hour-long session with comments from inpatients and outpatients under the theme of 投げやりの時どうやって断酒し続けて行くのか?(How do You Maintain Sobriety When You Couldn’t be Bothered?).
This topic was one suggested, but already knew the answer before I gave it – keep going to self-help group meetings no matter how you feel. The weather remained awful today and participants seemed bored and listless, myself included. I was glad when the session was finally over.
Early lunch ate into my free time and the impending blackout scheduled for the afternoon was even worse, as uncertainty over train scheduling meant I needed to travel into T to meet Y. I had asked a client to pay me for work I’d performed and though only a trifling sum, it was an enormous help for Y and I, now struggling badly financially to the extent that our circumstances are dire.
Y** and I enjoyed some coffee, shopping and then headed back to T*, where I experienced the blackouts outside of the hospital for the first time.
Nearly all the stores were closed and we settled for cocoa and tea made by hand in a darkened Mos Burger restaurant before the lights came on again and we went shopping to buy a frame for the drawing of T-san before going off separately about our business.
Our precious time together was interrupted by sending a long e-mail to A* and talking about nothing for an inordinately long time with a former K ARP patient and fellow AA member (H**-san), who seemed to need someone to talk to, but picked a really bad time to act on that urge.
I returned to the hospital for an early dinner, which was a cold, rubbery and tasteless chunk of hamburger steak, and I supplemented what was supposed to be a meal with loads of chokkies. I spent most of the night on the phone: to Y** to arrange sending luggage (a call that took hours); to I** to tell her I’d leave mediation in the hands of the courts; and, to C** to tell him we would not be able to take up his kind offer of a share house in Meguro. It was a brave move on my part as I needed to talk on the outside balcony and the night was absolutely freezing.
I finally called Y* for the last time today to bid good night just as the heater was about to be turned off, and then returned to bed ahead of a long-and-final-ARP day tomorrow.
March 23, 2011
Glorious snorious! Right on time (4-bloody-thirty-in-the-fucking-morning), the roar of T-sans snores heralded in another da, my final one on K* Hospital’s ARP, and one with a scheduled packed to the rafters, albeit with lectures or meetings I will be taking for the however-manyth-time apiece.
I’ve just about finished packing up and only have a few odds and ends to throw together in my bag before I can make my way to Osaka and then onto the home where I will begin the next phase of my life.
Looking back at the program, I guess it’s been beneficial, but I’ll never really know for sure. Being an addict, any recovery I make will always be extremely fragile; it only takes a single drink for this disease to blow out to its full extent and that one drink is so easily obtainable now. Although the alcohol obsession is subdued now, I’m sure the situation ahead will throw all sorts of obstacles in front of me that will make that obsession rear its ugly head once more.
Has the program helped me to ready myself to be able to counter these?
I’d love to be able to reply in the affirmative, but I can’t honestly say for sure. I’d like to draw on what I have learned, but when it comes to the crunch, I have not fundamentally changed despite all the work that I have put in.
Has the program done anything to change my state of mind?
Again, I can’t say it has altered anything fundamentally. I’m still plagued by the same old fears, anxiety, longings and cravings that I have always felt, though I am perhaps a little more aware of them now than I had been in the past, which may make it somewhat easier for me when I have to tackle these problems in the future.
How are you going to approach life hereon in?
Who knows? Fuck, I’m scared. I’m wracked with guilt over what I’ve done to those poor little girls. Please God, make things easier for them. It’s not their fault they got the horrible parents they did. I hope one day that they can see it in their hearts to forgive me and I can rebuild a relationship, or perhaps more correctly, build a loving relationship that I never made the effort to create in the first place.
Every other aspect of my life presents me with an enormous obstacle. I’ve got no job, no money, no home no possessions, no family, no friends in high places – things aren’t really upbeat.
On the other hand, the friends I’ve retained are powerful allies – Y* is simply an incredible woman. It’s amazing how things have turned themselves on their head since our relationship began, with me in the powerful position and aiding the helpless housewife, to her being a pillar of strength offering hope to a man who has been smashed – and smashed himself – to smithereens over and over for the past several years.
K-san and K-san have also been supportive, but I have done so much to let them down (perhaps done so little to retain their amity is a better way to phrase the state of things) that their somewhat aloof stance toward my current predicament is more than justified.
It’s a similar story with C**. I gave the poor bugger no end of trouble when we worked together, yet screamed for help whenever I needed it regardless of what he was facing, and even so he never failed to deliver, but I think he’s pretty much had enough of me by now.
M* S, Y T, A* I** and Y* E* have all been pillars of strength, the first three in particular also providing tremendous and valuable financial support at times when it was desperately needed. Thank God I had them.
Thank God too, for the AA community. P* H, in particular, has been tremendous, along with C* R, K***, and the more standoffish types out this way who have nonetheless been tremendously supportive. I will need their continued assistance if I am to drag myself out of this hole.
How are you going to approach life outside of rehab?
I haven’t got a clue. I’m terribly, terribly frightened. I didn’t have the ability to get by when things were going entirely my way. When things soured, I took it easy and relied too much on T, which highlighted the awful deficiencies within our relationship and ultimately led to my breakdown.
Now, with everything working against me and with very little hope, a bank account with a balance of ¥128, mounting debt, widespread enemies and a shattered economy, there’s very little hope of the outlook being bright.
All I can do is not drink: First Things First in the AA parlance. I’m not so keen on the other two aspects of the Three Pillars – outpatient treatment and alcohol deterrent drugs. But I wasn’t that keen a fan of AA, either, yet have slowly become accustomed to it over time. I must try and devote myself to sobriety on a daily basis in the same way that I gave myself wholeheartedly over to alcohol.
AA is an absolute must. No matter how hard it is to get into it, I can’t allow myself to forget what happened when I stopped attending last time. I’ve got to throw myself deeper into the program. My involvement has not been deep enough and my commitment is lacking. That doesn’t necessarily mean that I need to devote myself entirely to the program, but it is necessary to show greater care and concern for what’s going on in and around my world.
Perhaps today is not a great day to review my feelings of the rehab program as it draws to a close for me. I’m currently sitting through the Nutritional guidance lecture for the fifth time, each occasion given by lecturer K** O****, who speaks in the same, identical monotone, wears exactly the same clothes, takes breaks at precisely the same points and is so lacking in enthusiasm it spoils what could be a useful, handy and healthy lecture.
She simply reads from the notes and offers no practical advice, rendering the lesson almost entirely pointless particularly after the first time she gives it. I can only wonder why this lecture is schedule at more than double the frequency of other lectures. I’m sure the timing of my involvement in the course hasn’t helped, but it would probably be more effective to split T-san’s lecture on the social resources available to alcoholics into two and hold the Nutritional Guidance session somewhat less frequently than its current bi-weekly pace.
Alternatively, the nutritionist could simply hand out her course notes and get patients to read them on their own time while changing the course so that it focuses on more practical matters such as how to find cheap and healthy foods, or healthy eating through convenience store foods, or cooking for one person course.
It really is lacking anything other than lists of facts and turns most people off, yet attendance is compulsory at the risk of extending time in the hospital in the event of missing the class.
Lunch was again a reduced affair in light of the Tohoku disasters and accompanying cutbacks, though today’s meal was a slightly more substantial feed than has been the case in recent days.
I finished quickly and started to head out but was cobbled by Dr. T** who wanted to go through some administrative details with me, including where I would go for a consultation post-discharge (continue at K), the medicines I would take (Nocbin as an alcohol deterrent, thyrajin for my thyroid condition and biaspirin for my heart), and how important Y* is for my recovery.
I then went off to the park to prepare for the afternoon.
The program was 心の回復と動き(Recovery and Movements of the Mind), a lecture given by S*-san from 1:45-3 p.m. We used a series of Q&A notes to track what we had gained and lost from drinking, and when we wanted to drink and sought sobriety, punctuating these with explanations of the way alcoholism affects the mind of alcoholics.
In some ways, this was a perfect session to mark the formal end of the program for me (there’s still an AA Message to go but the hospital is not involved other than to provide a place for it to be held), as it was the first I’d taken upon starting the ARP back in January and I could thus compare the differences. They weren’t great, but did show that I am probably being more honest about myself now than I had been in early February.
When the session was over, I was delighted to receive a birthday card from my daughter, Natasha, though I couldn’t help but think that T’s scheming is behind it. I delightedly showed it off to Y as we spent a relaxing couple of hours together at McDonald’s in T***.
I returned to the hospital to continue packing and prepare for the final session of the ARP only to find that dinner had been served early again even though the day’s planned blackout had been cancelled. The hospital had served up its typical post-disaster slop on cold rice, but also added a slice of cake to wish me well upon my discharge. I was delighted and it was the only part of the meal that tasted nice.
My final session in the ARP was the T AA Group Message, which ran from 7:10-830 p.m. and featured six speakers from local AA groups to pass on the AA message to inpatients.
Ironically, the program I have enjoyed so much ended with the aspect I have always most disliked – the T* AA Group Message. Fortunately, many of the better AA speakers turned up but unfortunately they weren’t on their best form and their rambling combined with the hot room and extreme tiredness put me to sleep an hour into proceedings (a move T***-san had forecast and invited by turning the heating up to full blast!). I hope this was not an omen.
I returned to my cubicle, mailed and called Y*, continued packing my bags and then read until I fell asleep, which must have been some time past 11 p.m.
My time in K* Hospital’s Alcohol Rehabilitation Program is over and all that remains to be done here is to go through the administrative formalities of being discharged, as well as finishing the onerous task of packing up my gear, of course.
March 24, 2011
It’s here; a day I’ve both been looking forward to and dreading. Discharge opens a plethora of new doors. But it also provides temptations, frustrations, anxiety and fear. I’m filled with more fear than hope and the road ahead is anything but bright. I hope I can keep praying for guidance and handle things as they come to me without ever having to resort to alcohol to escape.
I woke at about 5 a.m. and finished packing, then completed yesterday’s diary entry. I cleaned up, ate breakfast and packed everything away.
This morning, I’ll send out e-mails to D, T-san and A** and then write a thank you letter to N. I’ll meet K*-san, a hospital administrator, at 11:30 a.m., sign a note promising to pay my hospital bill in full by the end of June, then have lunch and leave.
I’m shit-scared. I don’t want to leave. I have no faith in my ability to stay sober.
Today, I’ll leave and head to Fuchu for a late second lunch with Y** and M, head to T for the N AA Group meeting this evening and then travel back to H*to catch the late-night bus to Osaka to go and sit my exams.
Please God, give me guidance to get through the day. Help those who need it, and those I have hurt. Thank you for giving me this chance and thanks to the staff at K Hospital and to my fellow patients, recovering alcoholics, family, friends and – especially – Y for all your help and support.
March 24 to 29, 2011
Diary entries for the latest installment in my fight against alcoholism are going to have to be fairly truncated for this period, simply because I was so busy, doing so much and remain that way without having much time to catch up.
Thursday began by checking out of the hospital. I had to wait around for hours with packed bags as I was not due to check out until after the midday meal. I wiled away the time reading the excellent “Porno” by Irvine Welsh, but froze in the unseasonably cold weather made worse by power restrictions brought about by the nuclear accident in Fukushima.
I signed a form promising to pay the roughly ¥200,000 I still owe the hospital by the end of June, checked out and headed into T****.
Once I’d left the hospital, I was filled with fear and trepidation about what lay ahead. My real challenge in fighting against booze begins now and I am totally bereft of confidence. I met Y** and spent the afternoon relaxing before heading to T** for the N* AA meeting at night and then onto the bus to travel to Osaka.
Having traveled overnight in the cramped bus, we were both pretty exhausted by the time we reached Japan’s second-largest city in the early hours of March 25, 2011, but checked our luggage into the hotel and headed out for a wonderful time at the Expo ’70 Commemorative Park. The weather was cold and windy, but the park was an eye-opener. Y* treated me to a buffet lunch at a posh hotel to celebrate my 42nd birthday, but the food was bloody awful. We returned to central Osaka, ate dinner and then headed out to an AA meeting in the entertainment district of Juso.
Saturday, March 26, 2011 started with an early rise before I headed off to Osaka University to sit my Writing in Japanese II exam. The exam was every bit as challenging as I had expected it to be, beginning with a prose passage about risk management in Japan, followed by a letter to a company seeking employment and finally a report on Social Networking Services in Japan. I’d hope to have done enough to garner an overall pass, but my test wasn’t particularly great, so I’m not too sure. I finished early, headed out to the Kaiyukan Aquarium with Y* and onto an AA meeting in Ogimachi to end the long day.
March 27, 2011, was another busy day, starting with a 3-hour exam for Practical Japanese to English Translation II, which featured a newspaper article about sumo match-fixing, followed by a literary passage taken from Setouchi Jakushi’s Natsu no Owari, which was particularly applicable to me as it referred to a woman engaged in a relationship outside of the long-term relationship in which she was involved. I did as well as could be expected without having studied or prepared in any way and hope I have passed. The afternoon was spent listening to a lecture on preparing a thesis, then I put my proposal to Dr. Thomas McAuley to write on the linguistic changes brought about through social upheaval and using the Sada Abe incident (where a woman strangled her married lover, then sliced off his genitals and carried them around with her for three days until her arrest). He was a little skeptical, but said it could be done and asked me to submit a concrete proposal, which I must prepare soon.
I left the gathering and headed out to join Y**, who had devotedly waited hours for me at the monorail station, sleeping along the way. We headed out to the Osaka suburb of Ibaraki for a nighttime AA meeting, then made the long journey back to our hotel, and I collapsed, exhausted on the bed and slept soundly while poor Y worked her arse off cleaning up my clothes and our hotel room before she finally got some sleep herself.
Our final day in Osaka, March 28, 2011, was one devoted entirely to ourselves and we spent it taking things easy. After a hectic start to the morning throughout our trip, today we took things slowly, checked out and headed to Umeda to find the bus stop we’d need to get to that night and then head out to do some sightseeing. We found the bus stop easily, but it was a much tougher task to get a locker large enough and conveniently located enough to suit our needs, so our sightseeing started later than we had expected. We eventually made it to Shinseikai, where we ascended the Tsutenkaku Tower, ate a cheap and delicious sushi lunched, snacked on takoyaki and then headed into trendier parts of Osaka such as the Amerika-mura and Dotonbori to catch famous sights such as the Glico sign and the Guidaore Taro doll, both symbols of Japan’s second-largest city. When all that was done, we set off to Juso for an okonomiyaki meal Y*** was dying to eat, but spent most of the time available to us in a fruitless search for a decent restaurant. We gave up eventually, attending a Juso AA Group meeting and then heading back to the terminus at Umeda to finally tuck into the Osaka specialty and get on the nighttime bus back to Tokyo.
The ride back to the capital was uneventful, but the blackouts and subsequent moves to conserve energy meant our bus wasn’t heated and we had to cuddle up to get some warmth – no arguments from me on that behalf. It was freezing when we alighted at Hand again wandered around aimlessly in search of a restaurant open before 6 a.m. on March 29, 2011, but were once again thwarted by the blackouts that meant even regularly 24-hour joints had not opened their doors. We ended up going to T and our regular haunt of McDonald’s, where we hoed into cups of coffee in our endlessly refillable cups until office hours approached, when I raced up to K* Hospital to collect the mail that had come for me since my discharge (including a wonderful birthday card from my daughter, M, saying that she wanted to come and live with me once she had graduated from junior high school in another two years). I went on to pick up some necessary documents from the local government branch office and then rejoined Y* in McDonald’s for another cuppa before the time we dreaded came about and I had to head to City Hall. We left, parted at Nishi H****station as I alighted from the train and began hauling all my belongings to the office a 20-minute walk away.
I got there and officials were waiting for me. Having worked there almost 20 years ago and T still a city employee, it wasn’t the nicest time I’ve ever experienced. Things were made worse as every aspect of my private life was queried repeatedly from the officials who will now be funding my lifestyle. After being made to wait for over 90 minutes until after officials had finished their lunches, I got a repeat dose in the car on the way to the shelter in which I will be placed.
A shock was waiting for me when we arrived at the shelter following a trip by car of about an hour – all my belongings were packed in bags and dumped on the stairs of the shelter. It was way more than I had been seeking, and while I was pleased, I was also disgusted at T* because I knew she had sent them there fully aware that I would not have the space to store so many items. My fears proved well founded as I was immediately asked to sort through the luggage, take out only what was necessary and then send the rest away. I called Y and asked if I could send them to her by collect delivery and she agreed. I then spent the next couple of hours trying to get my gear together, shoving what I could into the space and hangers provided, then kept the rest in storage to try and send the gear off when I could. My clothes nearly all reeked of mildew, some items were missing, but I got my dairies back, which was more than I had ever expected. I have mixed feelings about what I’ve done to the girls, figuring that this was my last chance at life, but one that had become impossible if I had remained with T. I regret what I’ve done to her, but feel it will work out well for her in the end, too.
