I think most people with addiction problems are very sensitive; we can’t really deal with the world so we need to medicate our interface with it. And that’s okay it does work for a while until there are consequences and even still then for a further while, through what can be sometimes a prolonged bargaining stage. But it’s some point we kind of have to quit the debating club, which is just so much mental masturbation. Feels good but you don’t want to do too much of it! You just have to make a decision we’re free to kill ourselves or we can at least stick with the process and commitment of trying to get better, and it is a process not like ticking boxes, or who has the highest score but being on the right path. I understand that now. I wanted to turn recovery itself into a means for beating myself up, taking things way too personally, and of course that’s the ultimate paradox. A life-threatening one.
I haven’t use this blog in quite a long time it seems like about nine months. Recently my dad passed away but there’s been so much going on in my head that I just don’t think I’ve really processed it. And that scares me – I mean my relationship with my dad was good it wasn’t great and there was always distance but he was a very good man. He worked very hard to do the right thing in life and I looked up to him if I didn’t agree with everything he stood for. Of course at some point my cacophonous mind told me that this was an excuse to start drinking again. And recently something happen that could be a kind of bottom the one with the sort of poetic irony in terms of how it relates to my dad and can’t be interpreted as anything except the universe poking me in the eye and saying you see? I told you so.
I’m okay I have my health, it’s not catastrophic in any true way. Things can be replaced, sort of. But no matter what sort of mental acrobatics I employ there’s no way of getting around the symbolism of this thing that happened. And if I don’t act on it it means I truly truly don’t care about my dad’s memory, myself or anything.
So I got to get into a process, just going to meetings and people pleasing won’t do it. I need to find a therapist and I need to talk to friends, to exercise and find some kind of employment or volunteering; ultimately I need to keep busy, and get the focus off me. Because I’ll destroy me as recent events attest.
I wanted like to keep blogging too – sure no one will read this but still I think it does kind of help; it’s like journaling but the whole world could theoretically read it and that gives it the level of accountability that I think is important for us addicts. The universe doesn’t seem so random to me anymore and I think it’s watching.
I’m back, still alive after a busy, crazy week. Things seems to falling into place bit by bit. During my adventures I met this cool girl, with a bit of a sad past and I sensed we were kindred – drinkers that should not be drinking. We liked to hang out and watch sad videos on youtube over many beers. After our last such evening, which involved things in addition to beer, I texted her the next day to say I enjoyed hanging out but that I had to get back to AA, take things seriously so I was going to meeting. She agreed that we were not “normal” drinkers and that she’d like to come to a meeting. So I offered to take her when she is ready. I’ve been going and I know I can’t put pressure on her but it just felt good, the idea that I, one of sobriety’s biggest f-ups, could actually maybe help someone through trying to help myself. I hope she comes one of these days. I would like to get to know here more over coffee rather than mind altering substances.
Last night I also watched a movie I’d heard about called Requiem for a Dream about drug addiction and the damage it does to lives and mental health. It did not pull any punches, and many of the scenes were hard to watch (despite the otherwise pleasant to look at stars Jared Leto and Jennifer Connelly). Even the mother character loses her mind taking diet pills. Drugs are not a big part of my story, but lately, my “research” has involved an “I’ll try anything” attitude and, well, drugs are scary, not just because mixing them can kill you but they take you even farther from yourself and into an even deeper darkness. Maybe call it “Yetsville.” You end up on an expressway in Yetsville, riddled with car wrecks. I’ve only had glimpses of this but I know I’d rather be riding my bike in Presenttown.
Off to TO to see some friends. Glad I wont have to be alone this long weekend!
Took this on way home from meeting yesterday. It was after torrential rain, which may be a sign from the guy upstairs lol.
Somehow a dozen days managed to go by. I can’t say I was entirely sober in this period but my drinking has taken on a highly functioning aspect which feeds my delusions about how bad it actually is for me. I do feel extra depressed which is normal. I’ve lost my excitement about work, though I keep showing up of course. I don’t feel too excited about anything.
I’m going to go to a meeting tonight. Honestly the meetings here in KW don’t do much for me but if I go to a meeting I won’t go to the liquor store. And that’s the best manifestation of “one day at a time” I can think of. I have to stop spending my weekends here as getting to some meetings in TO could only be good for me, seeing sober friends.
I saw an old friend over the weekend in Windsor (shes not a drunk). We had a good time, no drinking. Of course I lied about whether I was drinking these days – how can one not when one gets the “you seem to be doing so well!” I’m a good liar, to myself as much as others.
I have to get back to work. Trying to feel grateful that I’m employed and more or less healthy. But of course I want more things, a boyfriend, more money, freedom. These things won’t make me happy or quit drinking but thats part of the big lie I tell myself. What I worry about is that I’ll never be happy, or even content, sober or not. But that just leads down the rabbit hole. One day at a time.
Another long day. Still sober! More tomorrow.
I’m feeling grateful. Though I am very tired. Work was crazy, meetings, traffic and some one on one time with the big boss even though I felt about as articulate as a dead slug. There was even a flood (no locusts, happily) that I watched out the window of our Mississauga project office. Insane.
But I’m happy I made it home in one piece, that I am sober even though I feel like shit, and that I still have a job that can stress me out. Part of the reason I feel physically like shit is that I’m still only about 72 hours from my last drink/drunk. And the hangovers do last at this age, oh yes. Just my body’s way of saying “why are you trying to kill me”? Can you blame it really?
Meantime I see a friend post of FB that she just did one of those thing where you run and cycle halfway across the Scottish highlands (where she lives). What a different circumstance. I’m not comparing, or being hard on myself, but I bet the elation she feels at doing that is greater than any of my boozy reveries and for her there’s no remorse/shame/want to crawl in a hole and die for her. Just sayin’.
Anyway, did I mention I’m exhausted? And I’ve got more work to do. So signing out sober on day 3.