Postcards from the Overlook Hotel

Open For Business

grizelda3 — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 17:04:01 +0000

I knew it wouldn’t be long. We’re off the wagon, AND HOW! We’ve also been off our bi-polar meds for a month now. It is evident that she is not rehabitable. The alcholol, pain killers, and mental illness have taken their toll and this woman can no longer reason her way into wholeness, or even the hope for wholeness.

Essentially, this is a death watch. The marriage has already died and is decomposing. She has burned the last bridge. Her family gave up on her several interventions ago, and her husband was the last person to try to rescue her. Now all we can do is watch her self-destruct and keep out of her way.

How you’ll know you’re not actually in the Gold Room: We only have vodka. Somewhere, I have no idea where she hides it, but it’s around here somewhere.

Why you may think you’ve wandered into Room 237: A drunk, unmedicated bi-polar lady may come at you saying, “Wanna know how it feels to have your eardrum blown?!”

“No Red Rum For Me Lloyd,

grizelda3 — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 00:12:01 +0000

…I’m on the wagon again.”

Nothing to write about ‘cuz Wendy is re-rehabbing. I’ll update as events happen, but for now the Overlook is quiet.

All The Ingredients for Disaster

grizelda3 — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:22:49 +0000

The cast of my real-life “The Shining” is my brother, the rage addict, and his wife, the alcoholic, myself–admittedly addicted to martrydom, and the three animals, George– my cat, WiddoKiddy– the bitchy Himalayan cat-in-law, and Cody– the pomeranian I refer to as The Motivational Speaker, as he is the only one in the house who’s ever glad to see anybody. Our correlation to the characters in the novel aren’t so clear and defined. I’m usually Danny, but sometimes I’m Dick Halloran. And other times, my co-dependant Lloyd (the bartender) streak appears. When I’ve reached my limit, I’m Delbert Grady. My brother and his wife are interchangably Jack and Wendy.

Then there are days when we’re all either Baby Jane or Blanche–sisters in another tale of dysfunction.

How you’ll know you’re not actually in the Overlook Hotel at my house: It only has three bedrooms, one bath, and there’s nowhere to cruise on a Big Wheel.

Why you’ll think you’re at the Overlook Hotel in spite of the obvious differences: You’ll be caught up in coversations about whether murdering a spouse might be more expedient than divorce.

Room 237

grizelda3 — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 22:25:36 +0000

Stephen King’s novel The Shining is a fictional account of a man and his family fighting the demons of alcoholism. My life is a real account of the same struggle. More to come.