~~> I “graduated” from Townsend last night, <~~
~~> and tonight’s my last night of required Group sessions. <~~
with the above opening alone, there’s so many directions into which I could go:
- I gained a lot of valuable lessons from my 10 weeks in the program.
- I gained insight from things that were said to me last night from other patients.
- I’ve decided upon my future approach to alcohol: <insert decision here>.
- I’ve still yet to decide as to what the fuck I’m going to do about my drinking.
- I respect myself more for getting into the program.
- I respect myself more for enduring the extension.
- I respect myself less for allowing myself to be persuaded into the extension.
- this was overall a beneficial experience.
- this was overall utter bullshit and a complete waste of time.
I mean, not only are there many options, but numerous of them even contradict others. I guess what I can say I’ve definitely gleamed from this is: I’m not really sure about anything.
things I can say are probably true are that I overvalue the opinions of others, that I’m not as strongly in Control of myself as I would otherwise like to be, that I had a serious drinking problem, and that I’m impressive on the shore front.
I don’t know if I’ll never be able to control it, I don’t know if I will work on not drinking at all, I don’t know if I’ll stay in “recovery”, I don’t know wtf “recovery” even means to me.
I spent a lot of years trying to outrun or outsmart vulnerability by making things certain and definite, black and white, good and bad. My inability to lean into the discomfort of vulnerability limited the fullness of those important experiences that are wrought with uncertainty — love, belonging, trust, joy, and creativity, to name a few.
~ Brene Brown ~
part of me says the trick is to journal when I am in each of the three main forms: anti-drinking (never drink again), moderate-drinking (or controlled drinking), and fuck-it-all (ready to Quit at everything).
at the moment, for example, I would be in the moderate category: I don’t need or even really want a drink right now, nor any of my other addictions (over- or under-eating, self-injury, pills, speeding, etc.), but I don’t think that I need to give it up for all times forever and ever; moreover, I’m not running through my Suicide Plan in my mind at the moment. I’m just kinda … hanging loose. I mean hell, I’m even coherent and motivated enough to write a blog entry. this is an improvement!
but conversely, not being in the pits of despair, I’m not sure just how far I’ll go in a given situation to stop Hurting — how much I’ll drink, how deep I’ll cut, how many I’ll swallow, how fast I’ll go…. but does any of us ever really know how far we’ll go until we’re actually pushed there? and even then, how do we know that’s our limits? aren’t there times that we think, “oh man, this is the worst!”, only to later admit to ourselves, “ahp, we were wrong; this is the worst!”?
there’s a seedling in me that says I should be making this decision about drinking now, while I’m moderately level. because when I’m sad, I’m distraught; when I’m happy, I’m manic — we Crazy blokes have no middle ground.
similarly, though, that means the rare middle ground is very foreign. I’m not commonly here; so why would I make a decision about Situation C when it so rarely occurs? that’s like saying, “we’ll always keep a bucket of water in the library for fires, because it’s the safe thing to do, even though there’s so rarely any fires here.” …okay, so that was a shitty simile. but you get my drift?
so then here we are. back at the starting line of the What the Fuck Do I Do Now race. and even though I’m the key competitor and judge, I still feel like I’m going to lose….