The Irrationality of Alcoholics Anonymous

so thanks for one of the blokes who’s done the best at keeping me alive for the longest, I’ve read an AMAZING article about how AA is not the be-all-end-all cure for alcoholism. it’s rather long, so here are some quotes that are relevant to me. but really, the whole damn thing is great and worth a read.

and while reviewing my highlights, note that I’m not knocking AA. it’s a great program that has helped many people (some of whom I even know) get control of their lives again. but what gets me is that 1] it’s too religious/faoth-based, and 2] it doesn’t necessarily work for everyone.

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word vomit update

dude, so much has been going on lately.  I’ll guess I’ll do a brief, list-formed summary, as I’ve much to do.

 

to start it off….

I had a seizure a little over two weeks ago.  5am, I go to the bathroom to fill my water bottle.  I get dizzy en route, nothing major at first.  but by the time I’m at the sink, I can tell it’s going to be a big one.  so I put the toilet lid down and sit.  next thing I know, I’m balled up on the floor in Brian’s arms with him distantly calling out to me.  I can’t speak; my tongue is heavy.  I can’t hug or tap him to let him know I’m fine, because neither my arms nor legs will move.  and I’m still dizzy, so my head is heavy and wobbly.  and now suddenly, I’m nauseous (which, by the way, is one of the most difficult words to ever have to spell).

I finally respond, just barely, that I need to puke.  so he helps me lean over the toilet, and I let go.  by the time I’m done vomiting, I can actually communicate.  “what the fuck?” was, of course, my first words.

“I think you had a seizure.”

“…a … I what?”

“a seizure.  I think you just had a seizure.”  apparently, when I sat down on the toilet, I passed out and collapsed between it and the tub.  the sound woke up, but he figured I just had a slight fall.  then he hears a repeating thumping noise.  he goes to see and finds me between the tub and toilet.  when he finally pulls me out, my eyes were rolling in the back of my head and I was convulsing (thus the repeated thumping).  he said it was a good 30-45 minutes between his calling out to me and my actually responding.

he called into work for me, telling what happened, and that I’d be in when I could.  my boss said stay home all day, lol.  so I did.  and I slept on the bathroom until 1pm or so because everytime I sat up, I got so dizzy I threw up again.  even while lying on the floor, I was dizzy.

everyone finally convinces me to go to the doctor.  well, he wants to send me to a neurologist.  when he asked if I’d been to one before, I answered, “not really.  I got an MRI done a week after a stroke I had about six years ago.  but never a neurologist.”  that was apparently the wrong thing to say, because he then insisted I see a head doc.  that appointment is in two weeks now.  in the meantime, he put me (back) on anti-seizure medication, which are also mood stabilizers.

yet still meanwhile, this past Monday, I had all the dizzy and nauseous symptoms again.  though this time, there was no severe passing out or convulsions.  so I guess that’s an improvement.

and just think: this is only the first fucking topic of my oh-so wonderful Life Updates.

….ugh.

 

DUI

talked to a real lawyer today (not a public defender who blows you off and doesn’t give a fuck about you but takes your money anyway).  he said things are going to be bad, but possible not as bad as we thought.

said lawyer had me get all kinds of paperwork and write up several reports.  I’ve gotten lots of that done already.

apparently, “this is going to cost,” he said.  “but not money; don’t worry about that.  since you work at a library, I’ll have you do some volunteer work for a non-profit I’m involved in.  you’ll work in archives with newspapers and stuff.”  dude, this guy has no idea that this is one of the things I actually want to do for the rest of my life??

anyway.  another thing I learned from him is the interpretation of the license paperwork.  apparently I will not be able to drive a vehicle as of March 15th (that’s not this Sunday, but the next).  I can apply for a Restricted License, which will probably allow me to go to work, selected medical appointments (like my monthly visit you’ll soon read about), and maybe even the grocery store.  but otherwise, that’ll be it.

I’m not sure how terribly upset I am about that.  everytime I’ve gotten into the driver’s seat lately, I’ve wanted to take it off a bridge, into high-speed on-coming traffic, into a concrete wall, etc.  so I’m thinking I really shouldn’t be behind the driver’s wheel too much anyway.  (and also, it’s not like I go anywhere or do anything anymore anyhow. (and that was a lot of “any-“s….) )

 

medication

as per my psychiatrist’s and Brian’s request (the latter of which was not shared with me until my psych pulled it out with a few teeth), I contacted Townsend about going back to just the doctor, not the bullshit therapy too.

they said it’s been too long, but I could look into seeing a clinic that adopts the Townsend perspective.  so I contacted them.

$250 per visit (usually monthly), and they don’t take insurance.  I can, however, make the claim myself.  apparently most people get at least something back.

mind you, this excludes the medication itself.  O_o  if you recall, they had me on seven different meds, most of which I was taking twice a day and two even three times a day.  one of which, additionally so, was over $150 for only 30 days.  O_O

so yeah, all of the fucking money — which I don’t fucking have.

 

jobs

Brian got his first substitution job yesterday.  so he’s teaching three hours at UL on Thursday nights and will work with 8th graders for about two weeks while the teacher is out on maternity leave.

as of right now, I still have a job.  however, in a two-week period, six people at SLCC were let go (one of which was a coworker here in the library!).  we’re not technically in a layoffs, but I think they’re preparing for it.

I had my mid-year review with Katherine, and she’s very pleased with my improvements.  I also had a chance to explain myself (regarding my boredom), and she agreed to give me back a few of my old duties, plus help out Bill with a bunch of his.  so I’ve been extra busy at work, and I’m fucking loving it.

while helping Bill out, he mentioned how I could probably grow into a great technical writer.  so I’m looking into free technical writing classes.  sure, it won’t really be able to go on my resume.  but I could honestly say I have knowledge and practice of it.  ::shrugs::  it’s a direction.

I’m also considering trying out for the Cracked.com writing team.  I’m just not sure I’d ever find the correct tone of humour they want.  but hey, maybe the editors could direct me some in that….  anyway, just researching right now — nothing too serious.

 

moolah

I’ve filed for a determent in paying back my student loans.  I sent in my paychecks, my hospital bills, my credit bills, etc.  all the different reasons as to why I’m poor as fuck (other than evidence of my not being able to balance my income with Brian’s lifestyle).  so yeah, crossing my fingers on that.

meanwhile, I created a nice little spreadsheet to better track my finances.  I think, because of my situation, it will work better for me than those most people create.  this is not a budget, but more like a log.  it focuses more on what I currently have than on what I spent where — which is what I need currently.

 

electronics

I don’t know what the righteous fuck is going on, but everything that plugs into the wall and/or runs on batteries around me has been committing suicide — my car battery dies at least once very other week; the phone my dad is letting me borrow won’t hold a charge, no matter the battery (he bought extra) nor charger combinations I’ve used; my PC can’t play most of my games anymore; Brians’ computer has been randomly shutting down recently; the internet has been unusually slow; even my iPod is trying to give out.  I mean, fuck, IT came to look at my work computer, and now even that fucker is on the fritz!!  BAH.

I’m ready to just go live in the woods — no cars, no bikes, no liquor, no people, etc.

 

Bad Habits

so guess who’s eating disorder is coming back pretty strong?  oh yeah, this girl.  I’m restricting, though not terribly so yet.  but the fear and guilt and obsession are over-powering.  when Brian and I went to dinner for Date Nite Tuesday, I just stared at my food for a while before I could eat.  “oh, I’m just letting it cool down, is all,” I told him when he inquired.  in reality, I was preparing myself for the barrage of self-hate I was about to both experience and inflict.

I’ve returned to one of my homey ED sites.  I’m posting regularly, participating in challenges, etc.  hell, I even hosted my own mini challenge at one point.

I try to keep my caloric intake between 500 and 1000 — so I’m not actually starving myself, but also so I can minimize the self-hate.

I’m checking the scale every morning for sure, and typically everytime I use my home bathroom, and most nights.  I only record the morning one, though, as I know food and exercise influence weight and body fat.

when I was sick Monday, I got excited Tuesday morning at how low the scale read.  I knew it wasn’t going to last; but I basked in the joy I felt for the day.

it’s no secret: I’m overweight.  I’m not “fat” in the medical sense; but I am overweight.  I’ve and average of 34% body fat and 25.7 BMI.  so I’m not medically fat, but I’m bigger than both what is healthy and what I want.

anyway.  I’ve started obsessing with that.  I’m checking my ED forums and chats at work on my iPod every often.

meanwhile, today, I packed some extra bandages and a second razor to work.  I keep a little blade in my wallet all times, for “emergencies”.  a few smaller bandaids too.  in those cases, just a knick or two will siffice.  however, today was a Wound day, as in I snatched some of the larger bandage pads from my bathroom and snuck them along with me, just in case.

yeah, my SI hasn’t really officially returned (I’ve only just once or twice in the last few months, and only one session of hair-pulling).  but it’s teasing it.

 

so the good news!

fuck, this is all depressing.  so what good things have been going on?

well, as stated, I’ve picked up extra assignments at work.  and I’ve really impressed Bill with my timeliness, my skills, and products’ outputs.  of course, there’s a few tweaks to be made along the way so that they fit his overall picture better.  but typically, he’s greatly pleased with what I bring him.

I’ve updated my resume.  I also cleaned it up some.  I had the same boring style from back when I started college.  it was time for something fresh and more executive-like.  I’m still tweaking it, as the style is forcing the font to be small (or maybe I’m still including too much shit on it — which is actually what I think is going on).  anyway, if anyone wants to be a sweetheart and review it for me to provide suggestions, I’d fucking adore you for it!!  I think this link will take you to it: Parker-James-Christine_337-349-3009 .  that one specifically is for a generic office manager job.  like I said, I have a lot in it I can remove.  and then I’m going to edit it further for the technical writing jobs.  I’ll hit up people again to review that one.  (also, please let me know if the formatting open fonky for you!!)

ugh, and then I need to create a portfolio.  I need a collection of shit I’ve done — papers I’ve written, instruction manuals I’ve designed, projects I’ve completed, ideas I’ve birthed, stats I’ve achieves, etc.  any suggestions?? 😀

another good thing is getting my cat back.  :3   Zero had been at my parents’ place for over three weeks.  well, last weekend, I finally found the time and umph to snag him back home.  and OMG, was that cat fucking glued to me.  XD  I loved it, but at the same time it was like, “kitteh, I haz werk to do.”  so yeah, having my little butthead back has been nice.

Sean’s still crashing at our place.  without sharing too much of his personal life, his job is dragging their ass on paying him, so he’s in a tight spot.  between my falling apart and him having no money, it behooves us both to keep him here, lol.  but the lack of money really has him both depressed and concerned at the moment.  so in order to distract each of us, we watch various movies and shows together sometimes.  one such movie was Under the Skin.  if you’re going to look into it, do it as home as this is movie is amazing but sooooo NSFW, lol!!  all of the nekked Scarlett Johansson.  I mean, sexalicious.  but totally not something you want your boss to see you checking out while on the clock, lol.  (though if you do ever watch it without reading the spoilers first, let me know what your theory/take on the movie is.  :D)

I can’t find my Manifesto — the file in which I wrote up my short- and long-term goals, daily plans, virtues of life, etc.  I’m not sure this is a bad thing.  maybe it’s signifying a need to start over.  so I am.  a new file, a new outlook, etc.  and real goals too — such as get the fuck outta Louisiana….

ah, speaking of Louisiana — the recent weather.  it was finally warming up some.  until today, wherein it sneauxed.  ugh.  I suppose this is what most would actually just call a flurry or something.  but whatever, ice solidified and fell from the sky.  sneaux in Louisiana is so fucking uncommon, there’s even a gaddamn Wikipedia article about it!  XDDDD

 

so I guess that’s basically all that’s going on in my life.  sorry for the word vomit, but y’all know by now that’s kinda my style.

petrified

I thought things would get better once rehab was over.  I’d have a social life again; I’d have better control over and understanding of my drinking habits; I might even be lucky enough to be on medication that would help with the depression and mood swings.

but here I am at work, fighting off tears.

yes, I have a social life.  but I have nigh no money.  twice since the beginning of the year I had two NSF fees applied against me, and I currently only have just over $100 to last me until next Friday (the paycheck out of which most of my monthly bills will be paid).

Brian wants me to keep going to the rehab doctor and weekly meetings.  he wants me to go to AA meetings too.  I’ve got such resentment again Townsend that I doubt I’d let them in enough to help me.  moreover, staying with that doctor will require 100% sobriety — that includes my pain pills for my back; that includes the occasional beer with a friend at dinner; it includes everything.

and honestly, I don’t know that I can do that.

but I guess I have to.  at least, that’s where I was at first this morning.

but then I noticed a $150 charge on my card from them that I never approved.  I called to find out why.  it was a no-show fee from last week.  now, I called 24 hours ahead of time to cancel a doctor’s appointment with Townsend last week.  however, they’re telling me I never left a voicemail; and that even if I did, it should have been left 48 hours in advance.  so they charged me a $150 no-show fee.

I was already upset with them.  but this just pushed me over the limit.

Brian wants me to stop drinking for a while.  fine.  go to AA meetings.  whatever.  he even wants me to find a Sponsor and work the steps.  fuck it, I don’t care.  but I’m not giving that horrible facility a penny more.  fuck them royally.

I’m so discouraged right now.  I was really thinking things were going to get better.

but now?  now I just want to cry.  I am so fucking distraught and hopeless.

 

my court date is Feb 10th.  I’ve requested to meet with a Public Defender before then to talk about the medications that caused my blackout.  it’s a $40 charge, and that doesn’t even guarantee me a meeting.

 

I’m spiraling.  I can feel it.  I feel my brain starting to play all those old tapes about how inferior and incompetent I am.  I’m reliving every mistake and error, which just fuels the bursts of regret I’m already enduring.

 

I don’t know what to do.  I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive this.

 

I need someone to sit down with me and help me make a plan.  I need to step-by-step approach to surviving the next few months.  I don’t think I can do this.  I’m getting scared all over again.  like, actual fucking FEAR.

 

I don’t know what the fuck to do.  I’m terrified.

quitting the game, surrendering in war

I remember when I went to the mental hospital back in April 2004. I remember my mom talking about now they have no idea how to scold me (I was 17 years old then), for fear of causing me to have an attack or to cut. she was frightened to even approach me sometimes; I could see it.

Loneliness leads to nothing good, only detachment. And sometimes the people who most need to reach out are the people least capable of it. ~ Adelle DeWitt

 

and my dad? he told me that until I got out, until things got “back to normal”, everything would have to be about me.

he said it again when I started rehab. that lots of the plans and goals he had for the family and even for his own life, they were going to have to be postponed because everything was going to be about me … again.

say something; I’m giving up on you.
I’ll be the one, if you want me to.
anywhere, I
would’ve followed you.
say something; I’m giving up on you.

I don’t like reaching out. I’m capable of it, but it usually leads to negative effects in the end. and I’m tired of being the cause of bad shit in people’s lives. and in my own life, in regard to depending on others.

and I
am feeling so small.
it was over my head;
I know nothing at all.
and I
will stumble and fall.
I’m still learning to love,
just starting to crawl.

I also remember when Brian turned it off. when he decided it was time to stop fighting against me. and honestly, truly, I don’t blame him. I long wondered why he put up with it for so long anyway.

say something, I’m giving up on you.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you.
anywhere, I
would’ve followed you.
say something; I’m giving up on you.

I remember him being in tears, telling me that — for now — he was done. he was done with it. Brian had decided that he wasn’t going to try to discourage my drinking, because the battle was too exhausting for him; he was tired of fighting.

and I
will swallow my pride.
you’re the one
that I love,
and I’m saying goodbye.

there was a boy many years ago who stole my heart. he helped me in so many ways, and he helped me at the time create myself into who and what I wanted to be. he put me on the right path. everyone considered us to be boyfriend and girlfriend, to be dating — we were carrying out all the dating rituals, even. but it wasn’t technically “official”.

I finally found the nerve to ask him, to make it official. and he said no. my Depression was too strong for him. when I hurt, he hurt. and he was tired of hurting.

say something; I’m giving up on you.
and I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you.
and anywhere, I would have followed you!
say something; I’m giving up on you.

well so the fuck am I. why does everyone else get to quit, everyone else gets to run away. but for them, I have to stay and fight. I have to take on this beast alone. because when I ask for help, when I start to lean, I break them.

hell, an unnamed friend of mine who I’ve known since middle school, she occasionally comments on how she’s impressed that I haven’t broken Brian yet or at least haven’t forced him to flee — because, she points out, one or other has happened to every other guy I bot officially and unofficially dated.

say something; I’m giving up on you.
say something…

if everyone else gets to quit, I do too.

I’ve been cold with Brian the last few days, distant. it’s because I’m tired of being hurt too, I’m tired of fighting. and because of my illnesses, that’s what this is turning into — constant pain and battles.

now note, I do realise the issue isn’t with these other people, but rather with me. I recognize that I’m the broken one, that I’m the damaged one. I get that if I were actually better, I’d hurt others less, and therein they’d hurt me less. but that’s not who I am, and I’m starting to realize that’s not someone I can be. rather, I’m going to be forever Damaged.

Brian said I couldn’t quit dating him for his own good. I made a promise to that.  well, we’ll just have him break up with me for his own good.  I’ll continue to be distant from him — from everyone but this blog and possibly Twitter, honestly –, and I’ll let our relationship fall apart.  then not only will he be able to leave, but then maybe he’ll leave with less guilt — because I’ll be the one who things.  as always.

I realize this is counter to “recovery”.  but it’s apparent that it’s what needs to be done.  because I don’t want to be hurt again. and because I’m tired of fighting too.

AA: Step One

Step One:  We admitted we were powerless over alcohol and that our lives had become unmanageable.

 

Alcoholics Anonymous – Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions

“Few indeed were those who, so assailed, had ever won through in singlehanded combat.”   ~ p22

 

Joe McQ – The Steps We Took

“When I’m trying to put something together, I may be trying to drive a tapered be into a hole wrong end first.  I keep hammering and hammering, but the thing won’t go.  I drive and force and maybe I’ll finally look at the peg and say, ‘This peg won’t go that way.’  Then I’ll turn it around.  But I can’t turn it around until I admit that I’ve been trying to do it the wrong way.”   ~ p20

“We humans are not meant to depend on our individual selves; we are meant to rely on each other.”   ~ p20

“[…] we will never be everything or know everything.  When we realize our powerlessness, we can seek a source of Power.”   ~ p22

“We’ve got to learn the value of saying ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I made a mistake’ or ‘what I’ve been trying doesn’t work.'”   ~ p23

 

Joe McQ – Carry This Message

“Bill Wilson reminds us in the Big Book that suffering alcoholics are very sick people.  We are dealing with very sick, undisciplined people.”   ~ p27

“Step 1 is the foundation of the principles.  The second Step is believing, the third Step is deciding, and Steps 4 through 11 are action.”   ~ p32

“In Step 1 we don’t really know what we are going to do next.  We just have to say, ‘What I’m doing is not working.  I give up.'”   ~ p33

 

Marya Hornbacher – Sane: Mental Illness, Addiction, and the 12 Steps

“To the practicing addict with mental illness, a life up there in the light seems almost as frightening as a life down her in her own private hell.”   ~ p2

“When I first came into the program, I found the idea of admitting defeat insane.  I already felt defeated, by my illness, by my addiction, by my entire life.”   ~ p2

“[…] we aren’t admitting powerlessness as an end in itself.”   ~ p4

“Sobriety is not something that can be found alone; we need the help and company of our fellows.”   ~ p7

“Neither mental illness nor addiction can be willed away; they both require serious action proportionate to the  seriousness of the disease.”   ~ p8

“Step One does not tell us we are failures; it shows us that the way we have been doing things has failed.”   ~ p9

 

Marya Hornbacher – Waiting

“That uncertainty may be the most painful part of not knowing a God; no one is there to reassure us that a God will take the pain and confusion away.”   ~ p6-7

“The notion that we are powerless is powerful, and for many of us painful.  We have suffered under the delusion that we were in control of our addiction for a long time, and the realization that are under its control is very hard to accept.”   ~ p7

 

What I’ve Learned

I’ve tried all sorts of things to control my Addictions — only one drink per hour, not drinking alone, no cutting when I drink, speed no more than 15 mph over the limit, call Brian before I cut, must eat at least 400 calories a day, only speed during the day, only speed during the night, can’t eat more than 2000 calories a day, drink only beer, etc.

I have addiction.  it is a disease, a mental illness just like depression or OCD.  and just like those, I can’t control it based solely on willpower.

I will start with my alcoholism, as that is the most severe; it is my MER — most effective reward, or drug of choice.  but as I work through this program, I will keep in mind everything.

I really do think I want to get better.  at least, for now.  maybe down the road, I can learn to manage it again.  but for right now, I can’t.  right now, I have become powerless against alcohol and addiction, and my life has become unmanageable.

chat with a friend

I was talking with one of my buddies from high school.  we keep in touch well.  he kept me alive back in those days, and he keeps me going these days.

anyway,  he was asking about how I was doing.  prior to this morning, last we talked was first week of November.  back when things were still really bad — as in I was drinking more often than I wasn’t.  he and I actually spoke just days after my arrest.

so here’s the convo.  it was good to be honest with someone about the advancements I’ve made in the last six days or so.

friend
Hey
How’s it going?

moi
s’aight, I suppose.
rehab is getting old.

friend
I’m sure

moi
I’ve been sober since Friday night, though.
I relapsed big time because of Thanksgiving. the food anxiety got the best of me.

friend
so other than the relapse, are things going well?
you should be close to finished with rehab right?

moi
I’m half-way through the seven weeks. but because of the many relapses, they’re probably going to keep me longer.
things are … well, they are.
due to several conversations last week, I’m actually determined to stop drinking. for a while, at least. even after I get out of rehab, I think.
however, that’s if I stay alive long enough.
I’m tired every day, and I’m having suicidal thoughts again.
no plans yet.
just … ideations.
more than usual, and with stronger.

friend
That’s tough
not drinking would be good
but i know that isn’t easy

moi
yeah.
well, drinking used to make me blind to how much I didn’t want to be alive.
now that I’m spending time more awake and coherent, it’s hurting all over again.
I’m also having to face the stupid and sometimes wrongful things I did while drinking and/or drunk. no more ignoring it, ya know?

friend
yeah
but there isn’t anything you can do about the past
and I get ignoring it will always be easier

moi
yeah, I know.

friend
Has rehab been helpful?

moi
only in the last week.
prior to that, I wasn’t letting it help me, ya know?

friend
Yup
And are you feeling more motivated now?

moi
yeah.

friend
That’s a start

moi
I realised that I can’t drink moderately at this point in my life. so until I sort that out, I can’t drink at all. I’m not saying I’ll stay sober for the rest of my life. but for the current time period, I’m abstaining.
I’m not “stopping” drinking, I’m just taking a break.
that break may be a month, a year, three decades, no clue. but if I look at it that way, I can approach it more easily and probably more successfully.
it’s a mere mind trick, I know.
but it’s worked the past few days.

friend
Yeah it is
But it works

moi
I mean, since Friday after Thanksgiving, I was getting trashed almost every night.

friend
The fact that you’ve changed your mindset is big

moi
but once I came to this “temporary” approach, I’ve stayed sober.
yeah, I agree.

friend
You gotta take things one day at a time.
I’m sure you’ve been told that plenty
But its totally true
Just get through one day.

 

I mean, the Thanksgiving relapse was bad. I was drinking before I was going to my rehab meetings even. what. the righteous. fuck.

so I don’t know where I’m at now. I mean, I want to stop drinking. for a small time at least.

but I want to die.  I don’t want to wake up tomorrow.  I don’t want to face my Monsters and Demons, my past and my flaws and my mistakes.  I don’t want to make amends, and I don’t want to keep fighting.

Brian tells me often that he doesn’t know of anyone who works as hard as I do to get and be Better — whether health, drinking, school, job, hobbies, with family, etc.  and that’s flattering and all.  but I’m fucking sick of trying.  why can’t I just fuck away my life like so many others?  why can’t I just be happy with being fat or weak or poor or insufficient or mediocre?  why do I always have to fucking try to be Better?  it’s getting fucking exhausting.

Control

Group last night was, I suppose … progressive? productive?  actually, let’s go with just “not a waste of time”.

we talked about our barriers to Recovery.  some people said friends or situations or family, some said reluctant to find and trust a sponsor, some (including myself) said a hesitant of reaching out to others when in need.  but my biggest barrier, the one I really discussed, was a lack of Control.

those who know me understand my need for Control.  not over you or a given situation, mind you.  fuck all that; I couldn’t care less.  but me, and my life.  I never went to rehab before because I thought I could do it on my own.  I value willpower, personal control, and independence.  but when it comes to my Addictions, I apparently have none of that.

but what I talked about yesterday was how I have no control, no say-so, in my life anymore.

I was an A student, member of a trillion clubs, volunteered for everything, the mediator in my family, the pillar for my friends, and the leader of all my groups.  I was always what others needed me to be.  not because I needed to please them or for them to like me; that’s no more of an issue for me than the average bloke.  rather, it’s because I always thought it was my duty.  I mean, that’s how I was raised.

Mum:  “how did X did on her test?”
moi:  “she got a C.”
Mum:  “a C?  why didn’t you help her study?”
because suddenly my friends’ grades are my responsibility.

I still remember one of the things that made me cut the most back in high school during The Incident: Mother expressed how I didn’t do a sufficient job during the Spring Fling fundraiser for a club of which I was the president.  I didn’t do a good enough job; I was insufficient; my efforts were unacceptable.

so having my own life was never really a thing I considered, never something I felt.  sure, I chose the clubs I was in.  but I always felt I was obligated to not only be in them, but to also lead them.

eventually, I become an adult.  often times I was working two jobs, helping different people along the way with whatever, and still dabbling as the family mediator, even though I was no longer living there.  over the years, I’ve let a lot of those responsibilities go, sure — and with great effort and some resistance.  but still, I’m the leader; I’m responsible.

and then comes alcohol.  around 8pm some nights, it’s my time.  I can drink.  I can forget my responsibilities, my duties, my obligations.  I can just be me.  if I’m sad, I can cry.  if I’m pissed, I can be angry.  I don’t have to front for anyone, because no one (except recently Brian) was even around during these periods.

drinking was mine.  I didn’t have to share it with anyone if I didn’t want to.

and now?  now I have nothing.  I spend my entire day at work five of seven days, and I have to go to Group for the whole evening.  once I finally get home, I barely have time to even workout for an hour before it’s bedtime.  and now my rehab center is telling me I have to go to at least two additional outside meetings on top of the five with them.  fucking when??  I have two goddamn jobs.  I go to church with my dad on Sundays.  I’m already going to an AA meeting Saturday night.  I have shit I have to do over the weekend — grade essays, create lesson plans, work on my car, cook, go grocery shopping, exercise, etc.  I’ve cancelled all my plans for the next two months, because I know I won’t have any fucking time to really see anyone.

I have no Control in my life.

———

except my eating.  my EDNOS has come back strong.  on my NerdFitness forum, I pretended to be … erm, disgruntled?…. with the fact that yesterday I ate less than 900kcal.  but honestly, I’m proud; I’m pleased; I did great.  you can take my alcohol, you can take my cutting, you can take my fucking evenings and weekend and money and license — but I’ll be damned if you’re going to take away my eating habits.

it’s not about being skinny (though that would be nice).  it’s about Control.  it’s about knowing that somewhere in these 28 years, my life is still at least somewhat mine.  it’s about knowing I can still exert self-control and willpower.  it’s about knowing that I’m strong and capable and independent.

———

I’m somewhat angry at those who want me to dry up.  because they’re taking simply another thing away from me, in a life where I already feel like I have so little to claim as my own.

I’d rather not even be alive.  yet still I wake every morning.  for them.  the least they could do is let me have my alcohol, let me have my skin and blades, let me have my own eating habits.

but no.  I have a feeling soon even my ED will be attacked.  and then I’ll have nothing.

and when I have nothing, I may Depart…..