Tag Archives: recovery

Crybaby Party!

IMG_6969 crying.baby_smw

Have you ever felt like life isn’t fair, like you’ve been mistreated and misunderstood, and wanted to throw a pity party?  I have.  Last August I posted a story and video featuring “Pops”, a former drug addict known as “El Diablo” by some and “Animal” by others.  The post is entitled Never, Ever, Ever Give Up!.  His son, Michael D. Sidebottom, also a former drug addict, recently published a book entitled On the Road: I Need Not Walk Alone.  Michael, through poems and thoughts, expresses the struggles and victories and the range of emotions he experienced in his fight against addiction and his road to recovery.  He has given me permission to post an excerpt that gives two different responses to dealing with life.

Crybaby Party

The invitations are sent,
The plans have been made,
It’s a crybaby party,
Complete with parade.

Bring your own pity,
Wrapped in shame,
Be prepared to play,

The theme of the party,
Is “Poor Little Me!”
It’s a crybaby party,
Admission is free.

We’ll play lots of games,
With pity-pot prizes,
And lament my misfortune,
When the full moon rises.

The cake has been frosted,
The balloons blown up,
It’s a crybaby party,
I hope you show up.

Lose your own problems,
On the dance floor,
It’s not about you,
Leave your smiles at the door.

I’m such a crybaby,
Poor little me,
Please come to my party,
And cry with me!

[Michael’s] Thoughts

Life isn’t fair.  I didn’t deserve the situation my life was put in.  I didn’t deserve my unjust arrest and conviction.  I deserved a better fate.  Why was I so tortured, so abused and taken advantage of, so mistreated and misunderstood?  Poor little me!  Poor, poor little me!

This was my attitude and my way of thinking for the first couple of months of my recovery.  It was the way I truly believed.  If I was such a good person, then why were all these bad things happening to me?

“It isn’t fair!” I told everyone while trying to elicit their sympathy for my situation.  I cried about my problems to anyone who would listen.  I even wrote about it.  I used “poor little me” as a platform for getting what I wanted.  The problem was that my recovery never made any progress during this time.  My life never got any better.  I managed to convince some people to feel sympathy for me, and that in turn made me feel better briefly, but it was a hollow feeling.  Sympathy never makes things better; it just puts a spotlight on the problem.  Being in the spotlight brings a false sense of justification; but when it fades, the problem is still there.

The point where my recovery turned around and finally started working was when I was told, with no sympathy, that I was a whiney crybaby.  My eyes were opened to my selfish attitude; and I finally accepted the possibility of a better life, a life of being responsible for my own fate and finding serenity in the acceptance of my life for what it was.

That was the day I dried my crybaby tears and grew up.

IMG_2965 On.the.Road.book_smw

Disclosure:  I purchased the book myself and was not financially compensated for this post.  Besides the excerpt, the opinions expressed are completely my own and based on my own experiences and preview.

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