Has God Forgotten Me ... or Do I Want a Sandwich?

Ben Gaffaney’s Sunday recovery roundup asks the important questions.

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Hi all — I’m filling in for A.J. today and next Sunday while he gets some solid, focused writing time. I’m thrilled to do it, both for the opportunity to make new online friends, and for the sense of service it provides, a way to help a fellow sober person tell his story. If you’re interested in more of my work, it’s here.
—Ben Gaffaney

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Recently, my son’s elementary school canceled all aftercare activities in advance of an expected hailstorm. His mom called, I picked him up early, the streets around his school were packed with parents and the teachers and staff struggled with staging the departure of the whole school. The kids were being shuttled out of classrooms to various exits far more quickly than normal.

My son, 7, hopped in and asked if we could listen to music on the drive. He has a playlist of techno songs from Geometry Dash and every end-credit song from every movie he’s ever seen, but he hadn’t asked for music in months, preferring quiet as he gets his school reading done in the car. Nearing my house, he said, unprompted, “I asked you to play music because I was a little stressed out and music calms me.”

Now, when I’m anxious I often don’t realize it till there’s a symptom. Like: conversations with others are going poorly, or I’ve stared at a page or screen for minutes without comprehending a word. Once I get there, I freeze and count through my favorite acronym: BHALT. Am I Bored, Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired?