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.

Today's Leap

Today's video about living with and (hopefully) surviving CPTSD.... and the med board process. 

Complex PTSD [Video Blog]

My explanation of life with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

Modeling and Mayhem

So, I did a shoot with my friend over at M.A.R.H. Photography on Saturday. He's currently working his magic on the already-incredible photographs, and I'm looking forward to getting more of them back. Seriously, if you're in the El Paso, TX area, he's the man to contact for photographs- I don't know how many times I've seen pictures he's taken of me that I immediately said "REALLY?! That's ME?!" to. He's a lot of fun to work with, and he's bilingual, too.

This one was his "holy grail" shot- he was THRILLED to get the gorgeous car and one of his favorite models (or so he says) in shot like this. I was having fun, and just thought this was a great picture. Again, WONDERFUL dude to work with.
It wasn't any surprise today when I found out that my departure from the military was delayed just a bit more (again), so at least the freak-out was minimal. My anxiety has been SUPER high these last few days, especially when dealing with anything even remotely military- and some things/people not.
I got into an argument with one of my guy friends last night after he posted something referencing something or other "whore"-related. I picked a bad time to bring up the subject, as my anxiety was already very high, but it will never not bother me when people use a term like this. I'm loud, crazy, and often angry- but judgmental is a trait I work hard to avoid- but never claim to fully manage to dodge. I'm not perfect, far from it, and I get that.
But words like "whore" and "slut" are so hateful and judgmental at their very core that I don't see how there could ever be a true purpose for their existence. One of my female friends, one of several who prides herself on being a slut and who sees freedom in living as such, pointed out that whore literally means someone who gives sexual favors in exchange for monetary gain. Good point, but I'll stick with prostitute. It gets the point across equally as well without being primarily derogatory in nature.
Another good friend of mine said, and I quote: Everyone knows that sluts are just women who do as they please, and please they do! I love her. So much. She rocks.
I will never. NEVER. NEVVVVVVVVVVEEEERRRRR call another woman a slut or whore. I refuse. It's a useless, patriarchal, judgmental attitude that comes with those words, and I refuse to allow my niece or any other young girls see me judge another woman- there's enough hate and judgment in the world, I won't add to it so far as I can help it.
As a two-time rape survivor, I don't care who you choose to sleep with, how many people you choose to sleep with, when or where you do so- so long as you're honest and respectful (including being safe!) with everyone you're involved with, I don't think it's anybody else's place to know, care or judge.
Slut-shaming is wrong.