Friday, December 21, 2012
Hi, I'm Zia and I'm an alcoholic...
It's something you never actually stop doing, so this won't be the last time I see step three- and, really, steps one through three are things you must do more or less daily to maintain your sanity anyway. Maybe some people don't need these sorts of things to remind them how to live, but I sure do.
I'm a third generation alcoholic, and a survivor of Munchhausen Syndrome By Proxy. I have survived rape, molestation, physical, mental and emotional abuse, as well as five and a half years in the army. I have been in therapy off and on since I was two- I wish I was kidding about that- and been in-patient, out-patient and treated patients (I was a medic) and yet the AA program has done more to help my sanity (what little there is) than any other type of therapy I've undergone. Medications never made the bad stuff go away or showed me how to cope, they just numbed me enough that I no longer cared what was happening. For some people, medication is the answer, and for others, it is the only way.
This wasn't true for me.
I go to at least one meeting a day- and I don't expect that to change.
Ever.
No, seriously, I'm not being dramatic here. AA is the place I go to check in with people who get what I've been through, and get that it's time to live today, not yesterday, not tomorrow. I don't have to tell the whole room everything I've been through- the vast majority of us seem to have had some experience with some really, really dark places and experiences. My sponsors (a married couple who prefer to co-sponsor) and a few select friends are the only ones in those rooms that know what I've experienced. I haven't felt like telling the entire room of people I see every day- some whom are friends or at least friendly, some who come and go or simply aren't people I've spoken to- just what I've experienced. Having survived sexual assault, I already feel like this crap is tattooed on my forehead. I don't really want to advertise it anymore than I feel it must already be advertised.
Oh, and I was sober more than three years before I came to a meeting. I was CONVINCED I didn't have a problem because I had done this on my own- only the drinking was a symptom of my brokenness, not the problem in it's entirety. I heard one friend say "I drank because I had feelings. Then I stopped drinking and the feelings were still there." This is EXACTLY what I experienced. All those horrible things the alcohol (and, later, medication) numbed me to never went away. So here I was trying to avoid the horrible side effects of medication and the AWFUL outcome of my drunken escapades and STILL I was trying to deal with ALL THIS STUFF all by myself. Nobody understood what I was struggling with, nobody got why I couldn't just let it go or get over it. True, I have PTSD- there's no doubt in my mind about that. But the alcohol made those bad things not so bad- until I sobered up and realized what new problems I'd added to the lot.
AA didn't help me quit drinking- but it has helped many, many, MANY people do so. AA helped me live. I'm never going to be "cured", and I'm probably never going to stop feeling safe enough in those AA meetings to want to go every day- and I hope not. Because, even though the memories, the pain, the experiences are still there, even though I'm not cured and not ready to rejoin the life I want so badly to lead, I am living today, today.
What the hell else matters?
Monday, December 17, 2012
What Is Up With This?
I spent the vast majority of the last two days crying. Then I got a hold of some friends and spent the evening and night with Rockabilly and C, so that I wouldn't be stuck in my head. It worked- partially. I had a mental image I know to be a memory, with a name attached but no face, and a general idea of where I was living (and, thus, what age I would have been) when whatever it was happened... I'm not even sure if anything DID happen, I just remember this one image, and I can't figure out why it's coming up now.
Today, I get a text message from Mr. Wonderful Mexico today asking to meet me- I got completely blown off by him yesterday and most of the day before, and didn't know why, but I was struggling with loneliness something fierce so I hung out with other friends. I sure didn't expect to hear from him today asking to meet up. So I met with him- and he called it quits. Let me explain- I have hung out with him three or four times, talked to him quite a bit, feel very safe with him, and like him an awful damn lot, and today he tells me I'm too young (the same age as his ex-gf, 14 years younger than him) and that I'm wonderful and beautiful and could have any man I want- except, apparently not.
I can't explain why this hurts as much as it does. I haven't been seriously invested in this relationship, well, it's not even a relationship... But I cried like I haven't over any relationship that immediately.... I said I had no place to try to change his mind, but it sure sounded like that's what I was doing anyway.
I don't understand why this hurts. He still wants to be friends- which is, technically, all we really were anyhow- but it feels like a major betrayal, and I cannot comprehend why it hurts so damned much.
I'm tired of crying, but I'm more tired of being alone than anything else in the world.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Like A Scared Rabbit
I want to give away, sell or leave every single thing I own, pack up my Jeep, and go.
I don't know where. I don't have a home, I don't have family, I don't have anything or anyone.
I just don't want to be sitting in this house, in this miserable town, feeling like I'm just waiting on an inevitable death anymore.
No matter how hard I work to stay out late, keep myself around people, stay busy, stay distracted, I always end up coming back to this house, alone, quiet, submerged completely in the misery in my mind... I don't want to do it anymore, and running seems better than going back to the 'just give it up and die already' mentality.
Maybe it isn't.
But maybe it is.
I want to run to that little house in Louisiana where I had a good time, felt safe, even though I could never forgive the man that lived there for what he's done since. I want to find a small house in the country or a small, small town, and move in- somewhere they don't know me, where I won't run into any exes, or wonder if an ex will show up to rescue me from the pain, or if anyone even wants me there.
No, let's be honest, I want a damn Norah Roberts novel- the girl from out of town that moves into a small, pretty town with the intent of making a fresh start after a severely broken heart, and winds up meeting the man of her dreams and falling in love and happily ever after.
This place will never be home.
I would rather live out of my Jeep than continue to live here.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Single Handed And Friends
I let Rockabilly Boy know that we needed to end things, mostly because he just wasn't looking at it becoming anything, and, really, what do I need to get all tangled up in someone who doesn't see that I'm worth more than that? We're still friends, and, frankly, I like that better. I don't have to worry about if I'll get to see him (cuz I'm NOT arranging my schedule around a significant other's!) but we still see each other every few days at a meeting or with friends. He's fun to hang out with, so it works and hasn't gotten all awkward yet.
I'm meeting more and more people through AA, which is interesting and strange at the same time. One guy I've met twice and is SUCH a wonderful person, I just wish he'd stick with sobriety for the long-term so maybe he'd find happiness (not to mention he's really good looking and VERY sweet) and it'd be nice to see how that'd go.
I've hung out with a very handsome Mexican gentleman (not Hispanic- don't get all PC on me, the dude was born in Cidad Juarez, for hell's sake!) a few times, and he just had surgery, but I'm looking forward to seeing if that goes anywhere- he's been a good friend to me a few times when I needed something as it is, so either way, I'm happy.
For the first time, I'm not entirely wrapped up in finding someone, though. I really enjoy being around some of these people and, yes, I do miss having someone to disappear for a weekend with, and someone around in the evenings, but I do alright by myself. I have a group of friends I really enjoy being with, and, well, I'll live. If I don't ever find anyone to share my life with, I know I'll be alright.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Accountable
Well, we got the interesting part right, huh?
Anywho, I talked to one of my co-sponsors (a married couple) yesterday, and made plans to have dinner with her and her wife today. Shit must have just gotten real, because it's finally hitting me- I want to run. Even though AA has made me feel a million and ten times better, even though I have no intentions of relapsing, I am terrified of the thought of someone holding me accountable for my every action- because it's never been done. How the hell do I just get used to something like that? How do I adjust to being responsible for telling my sponsors who I'm dating, sleeping with, hanging out with, what step work I've done.... everything? They're only there because I asked them to be, and, still, I'm terrified. This is a total repeat of every relationship I've ever been in, and it never occurred to me that accountability was something I resisted like this- I was so good at it in the military (until recently)....
This is hard.
I'm also seeing a guy, really good looking, so much fun, and also sober, who still very much has his walls up from the damage his last relationship did to him... We've gone around about not taking it too fast, and it just is what it is, and not needing to label it. He's told me if there's someone I want to start dating I can let him know... But we enjoy each other's company, and we spend as much time together as we can get away with. I like him a lot. He hasn't opened up to me much, but I understand a lot of his reasoning for being cautious about that, too. There's something really, really special about him, and, even if it doesn't turn into a true relationship, I'm really grateful to have him in my life, and to get the time with him I do. Maybe sometimes that needs to be enough- even if it is hard to remember when you're lying in bed alone, wanting that intimacy that comes with shared emotion. Then again, maybe learning to slow the F down is exactly what I've needed all along- and, if it turns into something in the long run, all the better.
ONE
DAY
AT
A
TIME
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Change Over!
However, I want flexibility, and I want to have fun. I have no doubt that I would very much enjoy working with children with disabilities, but, really, the restrictions and limitations on how I'm able to do that- when and where, particularly- are not something I'm interested in figuring out how to manage.
I want to go to school for cosmetology. While I don't doubt that it's a fairly well-saturated industry at this point, it's something that I've already had a decent amount of experience with, and something I do truly enjoy- and the possibilities provide enough flexibility and variation that I don't think I will manage to get bored. It helps that the school is rather short, and will not be quite as stressful as attempting to get a four-year degree, when I'm not even sure how I'll hold up to an eight hour day.
I still intend to learn to sign fluently, as I can't imagine that wouldn't come in handy every now and again, and the fact that, really, I just want to learn that. But I can take that course at a local college, I'm sure, aside from actually taking on a four year challenge. Cosmetology classes are also more readily accessible in terms of start dates than traditional colleges are.
So, as I learn how important fun can be in my life and to my happiness, I change direction once again and move towards what I believe will make me truly happy in the long run.
I missed going to an AA meeting yesterday, among drama with my service dog, and will be picking it up again today, and attending a meeting at noon. I'm also debating over getting my roots touched up professionally or doing it myself as I have been- doing it myself is certainly cheaper- though I may spring for a professional manicure-pedicure, since I haven't gotten one in months now, except for what I've done at home.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Circles and Squares
This.... is almost too obvious for words at this point. My life has been unmanageable for so many years now, and here I was just assuming that I just wasn't smart enough/strong enough/good enough to deal with the things that everyone goes through.
And maybe, to some degree, that's true.
That, however, is not the entire problem.
I was still trying to live the life I lived drinking, except sober. Or maybe I was just back to that life.
I quit drinking because I began to behave like my mother- making excuses, justifying actions I wasn't positive were the right ones, and ruining relationship after relationship, always in the same way.
I can't go to the bars--- no, can't is not the right word. I can, and maybe I'll even be able to avoid drinking while I'm there. That is not the life I want, though, and it's not the right life for me. I don't want to surround myself with people who get drunk as a release, because I've been there, and it's an excuse to do what you wanted to do sober but didn't have the balls to. Maybe this isn't true for everyone- I am neither judge, jury nor hangman- but it's true for me, and what I see when surrounded by folks drinking bears an awful strong resemblance to my behavior when I drank.
I don't want to even be sober in that lifestyle- I don't want to be excluded and included at the same time, it's too messy to try to balance that. People making toasts with shots over my head because it's an "alcohol" thing. Having people completely forget to grab that (free) water when they were busy getting a round for everyone else. I don't want to spend that time there, not like that. I don't want to just be a built-in DD for everyone, because that's all I feel like. I'm the babysitter, the one who keeps everyone out of fights, makes sure we all get home safely, who makes sure everything is taken care of- but I'm also the punching bag. I'm the one who's not drunk when someone is disrespectful or belligerent, the one who remembers the insults the next day, the one who doesn't have an excuse to sling one back and expect it to go away by morning. I don't want that life, anymore. I would rather be dancing on tables and passing around guacamole and wearing that stupid Spongebob hat we found, playing board games and taunting one another, yelling and screaming and getting all jacked up on Mountain Dew than deal with one more miserable night of trying to keep up with everyone's alcohol-soaked sagas and mood swings, and of feeling responsible for a bunch of grown ass drunk folks. I don't want to be that person anymore. I allowed myself three and a half years of touch-and-go with alcohol, of craving, of excuses, of frustration and fury and fuck it I'm DONE with that!
< / Rant >
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Wet On Dry Land
Folks who frequent AA call people who try to sober up on their own without meetings, etc. going "dry". Sober, but not really much else. I sobered up three and a half years ago, while I was stationed in South Korea. April will make four years.
Friday night, I spent time with the people I've come to consider my family. As per usual, they decided to go to the local VFW chapter, and began drinking. I drank water. Shots were done around me, toasts made over my head and if a round was bought, I was not thought of. As per usual.
That day, a no-contact order had been put in place by my commander against yet another of my male friends, and I was asked why I have male friends. Apparently a single military female shouldn't even speak to a married man for fear their wife takes it wrong. The house in my hometown that I was planning to move into fell through. I spent the entire day in the office, with I don't know how many panic attacks, and filled out, no lie, six different leave forms, in addition to the three I'd already submitted.
By Friday night, I wanted a shot. No, that's a lie. I wanted THEM ALL. Every shot, as many as it took to get me wasted plus six dozen more, please, bartender.
For the first time in years, I voiced this. And one of my friends got up to get me one.
I wanted it.
After three and a half years of sobriety, I was ready to throw it away. I wanted that drink.
I ran out the door.
I drove back to town, setting up a place to meet an AA-going friend on my way.
I attended my first three meetings-in the same day.
More than three years after quitting.
I came home.
I have spent the weekend in a house with three men, and no alcohol. Last night, after the last meeting, we made pizza, root beer floats, gorged ourselves on snack food, played board games that quickly turned into dirty jokes, and taunted the hell out of one another. We're pretty sure the sheriff that was behind us in line at the grocery store thought the three clowns laughing their assess off and buying $110 worth of snack food were high.
I have never had this much fun drunk.
Then again, I'm pretty sure I didn't know I could have this much fun with a bunch of sober people, either.
Life is changing.
If there's anything I want to take away from this, though, I really want to remember to trust the process- or maybe at least learn to.