So after writing that particularly scathing post as seen below, I decided to push out some positive energy, as that will grant me a more sound center. Five things I am grateful for tonight include:
1. Writing. The fact that I know how to write actual words, even if I'm not brilliant at poetically arranging them so that they conjure up strong emotions, I still have a way to express myself.
2. Books and TV. They allow me to escape, sometimes to a world without men and sometimes simply finding out how to better put together a day to nighttime outfit. It doesn't matter, either way, my brain can just relax.
3. My bed. Because damn. That thing wants me and I want it.
4. Meetings. Being in those rooms help me make sense of a crazy, fucked up way of thinking that I just happen to have. And most times, I remember I'm not the only one.
5. My dog. Even though sometimes he barks and eats things that aren't meant to go into the stomach of a 14 pound lovebug, he's still a cuddly, sweet dog who absolutely adores me, no matter what.
I feel the rage dissipating, so I'm going to go write some more in my private edition inside that mountainous pile of delicious softness. Good night and thanks.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Scariest Time of Year
It's October 30th. Usually this time of year I am filled with anticipation, giddiness, and wonder at all the fun spirited way the world looks at Halloween. However, I can't bring myself to feel that way tonight. I don't know what it is, but this Halloween is different. Instead of the marathon of sleep that I used to prepare myself with for the evening of debauchery, I'm wide awake at 1am thinking about how I should go to bed so I can get up, exercise and hit up twelve meetings in the morning. Instead of thinking about whether to start with Sapphire and tonics or Grey Goose and Red Bull, I'm thinking about how I can't wait to get my body into downward facing dog at 7am on Saturday. My life has changed, obviously, and while some people, including myself, find this to be for the better, tonight I feel it's for the worse.
Wait, you mean, you don't love sobriety all the time? No, and if I did, I don't think there would be a need for 12-step programs. Right now, in fact, this very instant, I am very resentful and angry at the gang of girls I saw on my way home in hot pants and cat ears, who are fifteen sheets to the wind and still looking for another drink. I'm pissed off that they get to drink on a Thursday night and go into work tomorrow hungover as fuck and have to deal with clients or customers while a headache thrashes in their empty, lonely and regretful minds. It's really unfair to me that they can access this world of drink and I can't. I probably have a lot more to drink over than they do, and yet I have to stay present and sound of mind while they get to scream "WOOOOOOOOOOOOO" while taking their 15th jaeger bomb as some piece of shit stud gropes their asses where I didn't know asses could be groped. I know I might come off as sounding sarcastic, but I really do hate that I don't get to disappear into the evening of slutty nurses, schoolgirls and storybook characters drunk off my ass as I have every year since I was 18. That disappearing is a comfortable place to be, but I have to be different this year. I have to be me.
As I complain, I also have to remember that every year some sort of fight or drama gets caused on Halloween, or at a Halloween Party, and I cause it 99% of the time. I've gotten thrown out of a bar on Halloween, cried my eyes out, and had a few other tragedies that I choose to keep mum on. But on the other hand, I have danced my body out at a Halloween concert or two and skipped down the Castro singing at the top of my lungs. This reminds me that not all episodes that included Grey Goose were fun, but every once in a while they were. And those are the ones I miss most, but they aren't worth the troubled times I experienced. Or at least that's what I'm praying to remember tonight.
Wait, you mean, you don't love sobriety all the time? No, and if I did, I don't think there would be a need for 12-step programs. Right now, in fact, this very instant, I am very resentful and angry at the gang of girls I saw on my way home in hot pants and cat ears, who are fifteen sheets to the wind and still looking for another drink. I'm pissed off that they get to drink on a Thursday night and go into work tomorrow hungover as fuck and have to deal with clients or customers while a headache thrashes in their empty, lonely and regretful minds. It's really unfair to me that they can access this world of drink and I can't. I probably have a lot more to drink over than they do, and yet I have to stay present and sound of mind while they get to scream "WOOOOOOOOOOOOO" while taking their 15th jaeger bomb as some piece of shit stud gropes their asses where I didn't know asses could be groped. I know I might come off as sounding sarcastic, but I really do hate that I don't get to disappear into the evening of slutty nurses, schoolgirls and storybook characters drunk off my ass as I have every year since I was 18. That disappearing is a comfortable place to be, but I have to be different this year. I have to be me.
As I complain, I also have to remember that every year some sort of fight or drama gets caused on Halloween, or at a Halloween Party, and I cause it 99% of the time. I've gotten thrown out of a bar on Halloween, cried my eyes out, and had a few other tragedies that I choose to keep mum on. But on the other hand, I have danced my body out at a Halloween concert or two and skipped down the Castro singing at the top of my lungs. This reminds me that not all episodes that included Grey Goose were fun, but every once in a while they were. And those are the ones I miss most, but they aren't worth the troubled times I experienced. Or at least that's what I'm praying to remember tonight.
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