"A Pissed off Rob is a Motivated Rob."

Yeah, apparently, and in more than one venue, it would seem.

I've got a lot going on right now, stuff I could actually lay a whole diatribe out about, but fortunately or unfortunately, I am not at liberty to talk about much of it on this kind of level. I'm not concerned about my own privacy on the matter, but it would simply be unethical to speak about in anything more than the broadest of terms.

However, it is something that is certainly taking up a large amount of my time and attention, and probably will be doing so for awhile. In fact, due to "A Pissed off Rob being a Motivated Rob," I have likely set myself up to be quite involved with said situation for quite some time.

So, in regards to this Blog, I have three options, as I see it so far:

A. Not talk about it.
B. Drop out of the Blogsphere, as it were.
C. Talk about it.

I actually sat down intending to implement A, but frankly there's too much of this floating around in my skull to try and turn around and talk of something trivial instead. B would ultimately leave me feeling like an ass, a quitter and a loser, not necessarily in that order. So, then there's C, which at this point I'm already embarking upon.

Well, there, we are. I shall endeavor to keep this in the broadest terms possible, then.

I'm part of a recovery group. I have mentioned previously that I used to drink and that I no longer do so, so this should, I would think, surprise no one. Several years ago I was very heavily involved with a local chapter of this group. In the last couple of years I have dropped in on the group but have been active elsewhere. Recently, people currently involved have asked me to come back by, expressing concern for the current state of the group and the actions of some of those who attend.

I didn't think much of it. It's always been a pretty rowdy group and people have always been concerned about some of the behavior of it's members. And, indeed, on most of the occasions I had recently attended it was perhaps, well, more annoying than I remembered, but nothing to get up in arms about.

Then I swung by Tuesday night. It was appalling. I was embarrassed. Again, we'll keep this in broad terms, but it was, in short, unacceptable. And it was not a percieved change due to long absence, it was flat out fucked up. (This has been corroborated by regular attendees.)

I simply left that night, as it was far too far gone to try and address in the moment. I returned, however, the following night. It was indeed much calmer, and while I acknowledged that, I spoke out harshly and at length about what I had seen the previous evening, and called for a return to the principles which support the recovery group as a whole, not just this particular chapter. This was largely well recieved and taken with an attitude of "It's about time."

And I managed to commit to re-involving myself more directly with the group, possibly in my old capacity, which may well be a large pain in my ass, but if that's what's meant to be, so be it.

That's all fine. Whatever. Great. Yay for me.

Trouble is, like many humans I am fallible; I can fuck up. And, regrettably, I did.

While I was making my rousing speech, I was asking, directly, by name, help from members of the group who I knew cared about it's survival. As I was doing so, a girl in the back, someone I actually like and respect, was waving her hand and saying, "Oh Pick me! Pick me!" in a playful tone. Unfortunatly, she was one of the people indulging in the fucked up behavior from the night before, and though it was much less severe in this case, her waving her hand around and talking while I had the floor was a form, though slight, of the kind of behavior I was speaking out against.

I had not intended to point a finger at any one person directly. It was, in fact, an inappropriate time and place to do so. Then again, I wasn't speaking from a prepared script, and I tend to shoot from the hip anyway. So, I basically ended up calling her out publically in front of everyone. This was wrong of me. I've attempted to talk to her, and well, as one might imagine, she's not terribly quick to forgive. That sucks, but I'll can now only offer amends, and she can accept it or not. I'm still more concerned about the group.

Of course, then, I only go and make things worse. I returned tonight. She was, actually, not there. (Which is a good thing, at this point. I wasn't exactly looking for her. I had seen her earlier in the day.) In any case, I was speaking about the group again, and in an attempt to illustrate how I thought it was more important to stand up for the principles of the group rather than be popular, I mentioned the incident of the previous night. Unfortunatly, what seemed to get across was that I don't give a fuck about that person. I didn't mention the person by name, but still. Also, it couldn't be farther from the truth.

Frankly, I think I'm most concerned about my message getting garbled.

But the real, grievious error is I've now wronged this person twice. Or, at the very least, I've made it seem like I have it out for them, which really sucks. One of her friends called me "An Officious Little Prick," which I actually found highly amusing. At least it was eloquent.

Regardless, many people have stepped up and thanked me for what I said, over all, and have pledged support for bringing things back to a semblence of order.

So, basically, I owe somebody a humble apology and I'm committed to helping restore a troubled recovery group. Both of which kind of suck on different levels.

I mean, fuck, I don't mind pissing people off to get things done, shit happens, but I don't need to do it simply out of clumsy speech and I really don't want to piss off people who can ultimately help. She's a decent person, she helps a lot of people. I fucked up.

Okay, I've left all of the names off of everything, so we should be okay, right? How about I don't fuck anything else up, huh?