Tube-aholics Anonymous?

My name is Blindjim and I'm a tube-a-holic.

I haven't tubed today... by the grace of God

… but it’s early.

For years I hid my tubing. Resisting by will power alone. Hiding my affliction and sticking vehemently it to SS, yet things were always somehow lacking. I always felt less than. A part from. Unfulfilled. I shunned any idea that tubeing was my true self, and hence remained restless irritable, and discontented.

I stayed in the closet of my own denial. Locked up in a prison I had made for myself where all the locks were on the inside and I had lost the keys.

I held off just as long as I could.

Then, one day someone told me about Audiogone and soon thereafter I found out just how exciting enveloping and satisfying tubing can be. I became engrossed and severely affected by tubing. To the point where I had lost all control.

I would tube in the evening to all hours. Eventually, I would tube first thing in the morning… and sadly, one day, I could no longer help myself and began to tube alone.

In the office. In the bedroom. Yes, sadly, even in the garage.

Nothing else mattered. I had to tube. There was no other choice.

I couldn’t be satisfied with just one tube. Oh, no. I had to have another, and another, and another! It’s always that first tube that does it! I could no longer help myself. I then had to tube whatever the cost!

I was miserable. I hated myself. At every turn I wanted to try some other exotic tube thinking that would be the one! That would do the trick! I’d be satisfied finally. Such was never the case. One exotic tube led to another, and another….

I needed help. Desperately. Or I would surely be lost forever to my disease..

Then one day I found that help. It was right in front of me the whole time and I didn’t see it at all. It was my higher power so to speak…. It was my PC.

It gave me that peace I had lost. The variety that was long since gone. Fidelity rivaling that of my analog dreams. Happiness had returned to me. No longer was I in the grip of the small glass devils compelling me to do more, and more to the exclusion of all else.

No more burned fingers, bent pins, worries of catastrophe from wacked bottles. No more hiss, noise, and hour counting. Peace had returned.

I may tube again. Someday. Perhaps. But just for today I won’t.

I shouldn’t. I won’t. I can’t. It’s too devastating.

Who am I kidding…. I have no will power any longer and I’m doomed.

I want to tube so bad I can taste it.

But I’ll just tube a little. Just a couple hours… not couting warm up time. Just a day or two a week maybe. Yeah. That’ll do it. Just now and then! Sure. There’s nothing wrong with that right? Other’s can, so why not me?

Geeezzz…. It’s not the tubes… it’s me. It’s just me. OK then, I give up. Yeah… I give… maybe that’s a start. Knowing it’s me… not the tubes, to begin with.

Afterall, there are other’s who know this sort of pain and frustration, I’m sure. Maybe we can help each other. Together. One day at a time.

I did think about taking up whittling, but I'm the sort that can turn a Redwood into drum sticks.

Philefreak

Thank you. I had hopes that it would have not been taken as a slight to any one actually in recovery, but as simple humor by way of caricature and over emphasis…. As I can really get wrapped up in this deal… and indeed, I have at times.

Too many times I’ve elevated this ‘hobby’ far beyond the level it deserves. In turn, I’ve lost perspective on just how unimportant it really is. I can then lose myself in the process. After all, it is only a hobby… not a life…. nor family… nor a career (for me)… but plain and simple enjoyment... and it should remain just that and not more.

Regardless the passion or desire, or the money being spent, happiness is but one result I derive from it. I feel It should always remain just a part of life, not life itself.

My set up is not the best, nor the worst, but is quite good. Since I’ve gone to tube power finally. I enjoy it each time I turn it on and sit down to listen. That should be good enough for me, and usually it is. To lose such a perspective I no longer merely view the fly in the web, but take it’s place.... and I sure have in the past found myself smack in the middle of that web now and then.

It’s never the tubes, or gear, the accessories or the topologies that capture us into that web, it is our own hands which spring that trap..

When we lose the ability to laugh at ourselves, we are indeed lost.