"Sometimes the things we can't change end up changing us."

I had therapy yesterday and she pointed out to me that I never give myself any credit. I downplay everything because I think normal people do "life" on a regular basis, every day, like it's nothing. So what if I can do it for a day or a week or a month? Big whoop dee do.

There's been a lot of..... upheaval.... in my life recently.

I didn't get the job I truly thought I was going to get. I didn't realize how much I deep down thought it was mine. And to not get it for an incredibly stupid reason... *sigh*.  I've just accepted it. It is what it is. They made their decision and I have to move on. Because anything else would lead to resentment and anger and bitterness and, eventually, drinking. So, yah. Let that shit go.

My brother is living with me for who knows how long. All of you know, I would do anything for him. I love living with him. His dog, not so much, but it's easier because Ben is here to deal with him, too. He isn't all my responsibility. And yes, my house is now covered in cat AND dog fur (man, I need to get Garfield shaved!) and my house now smells like dog and my new furniture is covered in sheets because of dog.... but I can deal with all of that to help my brother. He's the only person on the planet for which I would move a dead body.

But.... it's an adjustment. It's easier than I thought it would be. And this is when my therapist would say, "you're not giving yourself enough credit... there have been times you wouldn't be handling this at all. Look at all you're doing". 

Eh. So what?

And lastly, my friend who I've spent so much time with over the past 6 months is sitting in jail awaiting sentencing. We texted each other all day every day. We spoke on the phone if we didn't see each other. We saw each other at least twice a week. We went junk store shopping, Walmart shopping, watched movies together, made meals, went fishing, etc, etc, etc.  And while he drove me nuts mostly all the damn time, there's now a gaping hole where he used to be. Again, I'm handling it just fine, probably because we had spent a lot of time together his last week and I was ready for a break.... which sounds horrible, I know. Who would welcome someone going to jail just so they could get a break from them, lol? Me, that's who. I'm a horrible person. If you haven't figured that out by now, I don't know who you think I am.

But.... it's an adjustment.

And I'm working on Step Four: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

Again.

It's been almost 7 years since I did my first Step Four and things appear clearer today than they did then. I'm much more open to listening to my sponsor, but realize I don't have to accept or agree or put into action anything she says.  She's wise beyond her years and most of what she says, I am in awe of, but there are still times when I'm like, "No, that's not true. No, that isn't right. No, I'm not like that."  AA-ers tend to lump everyone together. We are very similar, true. But we are not all the same.

My Step Four this go 'round is more difficult. It isn't about berating myself. That's easy to do. It's about looking at those things in me, in my life, that I want to change. And I realized what those big things were re-reading my journals awhile back. 

Change is fucking hard and scary. So I'm looking at me and my life and realizing the hurtful things I've done to people that I never realized were hurtful until now (think "sex conduct") and having to face an Amy I don't like to face. The real Amy. The Amy who is selfish and self-seeking and subconsciously trying to fill a void in her she doesn't even realize she has. This is the Amy who is stubborn and unforgiving and hurtful and who pushes people away who get too close to the real Amy. This is the Amy who hides who she is. This is the Amy full of bravado and false confidence.... who doesn't see her value or worth and doesn't respect herself enough. This is the Amy who has an acid tongue and lacks empathy and will cut you down to get her way. 

She's an ugly Amy.

But... it has to be done. Nothing is going to change unless I go through this process.  I don't want to be the same person next year that I am today. There's been enough.  Enough of that. It's time to let go of old patterns and begin new, healthy ones. I'm ready. Or,  at least, I tell myself I am. The process isn't pretty and a lot of people drink at Step Four because they judge themselves throughout.  I'm attempting not to judge. I'm attempting to deliberately and without persecution, openly look at my errors and let them go. Let that person go.

As my sponsor would say, there are two types of change: the butterfly and the snake. The butterfly changes abruptly and dramatically from a caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly. Dramatic. Like, an AA-er has this epiphany or spiritual awakening and is never the same again. 

A snake sheds its skin. It's the same snake, but when the layer of skin gets uncomfortable and tight, it sheds it.... And then it's slimy and raw in its fresh skin... and it's a continuous process.

That's me. I'm the snake. I'm not going to have a dramatic epiphany. I'm not suddenly overnight going to become a new and different person. It's going to be a long process that I will continually have to work at.... but it'll be worth it.

Right?

So, yes, there has been a lot going on over the past few weeks - some of it good, most of it bad - and yet, here I am, still functioning.  I credit Lamictal.  My therapist would chastise me for that.

Give me time. I'm a work in progress. 

"In the Spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt."

I don't recall ever having such Spring Fever as I have this year. There's something about seeing the fruits of your labor grow and bloom in all their glory.

I had the idea to find different "window boxes" or in my case "porch boxes" at various thrift stores. I made some wonderful finds, with the help of a friend, and have been potting different flowers and plants in them for the past couple of weeks.  It took a lot of spray paint and patience, but today I was finally ready to hang them all.  Dad helped, of course, because without him, I'm not sure I'd get anything accomplished. Thanks Dad!

Front porch:

Small green box in the center of the railing. Bleeding Hearts at the foundation. LOVE!

Coral box on left. Yellow mailbox right center. Pallet box bottom right. Hydrangea bottom right at foundation. LOVE!!

Side (south) porch:

Back (fence) area:

Found these rubber boots at Salvation Army, poked holes in the bottom, filled with dirt and Voila! 

I found everything but the plants at thrift stores. OH! And then there's this:

It's a newspaper roller for fireplaces. There's a handle, which I had to remove, that will roll newspapers nicely to use when making fires. Best find with the help of my friend. 

I'm working on a new paint project for a neighbor friend up the street. I haven't gotten any farther than transferring the letters to the painted wood, but my goal is to have it done by the Antique Walk, which is fast approaching. So maybe not...

The Whyte house

And now, as I type "The Whyte house" I think the H in house should be capitalized. Damn. I had it that way and then thought, Nope, I need smaller case letters. But now. Yah. Capital it is. Sometimes all it takes is a step away to realize what looks right and what doesn't. 

I have my job interview with the City today for the Deputy City Clerk position. It's a job I've wanted ever since finding out the City Clerk was retiring July 2018, the deputy would presumably become the clerk and the deputy position would be open. I'm happy I got an interview (11 people applied, whittled down to 4). I'm generally not too nervous during interviews, but this one feels different. Maybe because I actually want it. Maybe because these people "think" they know me already so it's a bit different atmosphere than going in cold. Maybe because I really, really, really don't want to come across as a dumbass and fear that I will. Maybe because I don't feel "good" enough. 

I'm just doing what I always do, which is read through the job description, my resume, cover letter and application, my answered interview questions and various recommendations I've received previously. I realized today, I should read those recommendations daily because they're glowing and I actually believe those people thought those things about me and so they're a nice boost to my ever-declining-self-esteem. 

My interview isn't until 6PM this evening so I have all day to not think about it. :)

"Sometimes you don't realize the weight of something you've been carrying until you feel the weight of its release."

Ugh, where to start?

I went back to work April 23rd. Everybody was welcoming and nobody asked me a damn thing, which was good. My buyer was fantastic. The HR woman did everything right. But by Tuesday, the very goddamn next day, I was riding the struggle bus. I went to work but only because I knew I had Wednesday off. I had worked that out with the HR woman....to have Wednesday's off for a month to ease me back into it. Thursday rolled around and I was the same. Struggling to force myself to go. Friday was fine because, well, it was Friday. The next week wasn't good at all. I cried Monday for no fucking reason. Started in the a.m., continued through lunch. I don't know why. Who the fuck knows why. I did and it sucked. But I worked and that was good, right? I texted a friend to help boost me the next day because I knew I would need it. He did and it worked. Wednesday was a good day. Went to my CB AA meeting and ran errands.

Finally, after 5 years of living here, replaced the light above the kitchen sink, with Dad's help of course.

I love it and my dad is a rock star. It was not an easy task to accomplish, but he did it and it works and it's awesome and I love it.

So Wednesday was good. However, I woke up Thursday and called in. Said I was nauseous. I honestly have no recollection of whether or not I actually was. Maybe I was, but probably because I made myself that way by worrying myself to it. I don't know why. Why do I have this wall I can't break through when it comes to work? When did all this shit start? Why do I allow it to continue?

I fought with myself again Friday a.m. and finally came to "Fuck it. I fucking give up. I cannot fight this goddamn battle anymore." And I called HR and quit for good. She understood. I cried all damn day.

A friend of mine who has been around me the past couple of months said to me, "Amy, you haven't been right for 2 months. Your sleep is all jacked up. You're up one minute, down the next. Something isn't right." And it hit me. How did I not see it before? Because I get in my own head and just think I'm a worthless piece of shit who should just die and release everybody in my life from having to deal with this big fucking burden that I feel I am. But having someone say to me, "You're not okay" makes me realize I'm not. You're right. I'm not. I am not okay. This isn't okay. This isn't me.

This shirt didn't work. At all.

And so I finally got with my med check lady and said as much as I hate anti-psychotics, I would take anything she thought would help. Anti-psychotics fuck up my body and make me suicidal, but if they even me out, then so be it. It's a give & take. She found something that isn't an anti-psychotic but is simply a mood stabilizer and I've been taking it since this past Tuesday. I've also been on a high dose antibiotic which is fucking up my body. My mouth tastes like....sour milk. I don't know. It's disgusting. But today was my final day of it so from here on out, I should be able to tell how the new mood stabilizer is effecting me, good or bad. It has the potential to cause blisters around the mouth and nose (mucus membranes) so that's fun! *eye roll* It's unlikely, but why can't a side effect be spontaneous orgasms or something exciting like that? *sigh*

So I'm unemployed and feel like a loser and I'm still crying sporadically for various reasons, but I don't want to end my life and I see that as an improvement. Obviously.

This new drug....I knew I'd been on it before so I went back through my old journals and found when I was on it before and how it effected me. 03-04 and I didn't write anything bad about it, so there's that. However, I was drinking pretty heavily so I'm sure it didn't work as well as it could have. Hopefully this time is better.

It was hard reading those journals. I'm glad I keep them for the above reason because I've been on numerous medications throughout the past 20 years and need those journals as references. But damn. I wish I could burn every fucking one of them. And I may.

Here's what I realized.

I am no goddamn different than I was 17 years ago. I'm the same fucked up goddamn idiot I was then. The only difference is I'm not drinking.

Now, my therapist would remind me.... I am absolutely not the same person. I've grown in those 17 years. I have a greater understanding of myself and others in my life.

But....

My journals were a lot about my relationships with men. And with Mom. And my life today is a lot of the same. Men and Mom.

I feel free to write about Mom here because I'm pretty sure she doesn't read this shit ever. It's too goddamn depressing and I don't blame her one bit.

So here goes.

What I read in the journals was a lot of "Poor me. Why doesn't my family reach out to me? Why don't they check on me? Do they care at all? Hell, I could be dead and they wouldn't know for months because nobody checks in." I still feel that way today, lol. I live a block away from my parents and I'm pretty sure it'd be a good week before someone realized, "Hm, haven't seen or heard from Amy in awhile. Maybe we should check on her." And then it'd probably be another week before they actually did and by that time, Garfield would have eaten my bloated, gassy body and my neighbors would wonder what the smell is emanating from my house. Yep. That's how I envision it happening. I'll choke on some stupid food and lie here for weeks rotting before anybody noticed.

And isn't that sad & depressing? Yep, it sure is.

But here's what.... It would be my own goddamn fault.

That's what I realized reading those journals. It was all "Why don't THEY...." Hell, why don't I? ME. The phone works both ways. I hear my own mother say that all the time about her mother. Grandma complains no one calls her. Well, guess what? You have a telephone too. So here I am, perpetuating the cycle of "poor me", "you take care of me". And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of my behavior and my attitude and my part in relationships and, and, and.

Step Four anyone? "Made a searching and fearless inventory of ourselves." This is my start.

How am I responsible? How have my actions played a part in my relationships with others and myself?

Take men, for example. This is where the rubber hits the road for me. Fearless inventory. OK, here goes.

I use men to feel a semblance of love. While, yes, I enjoy sex, honestly, I use sex to feel close to another human being. I feel unlovable. I don't feel worthy of anyone's love. And so in order for me to feel some form of "love", I use sex. And then I dismiss them. Your services are no longer needed or wanted. You're getting too close for comfort. You may actually see the real Amy so I'm gonna kick you to the curb before you can kick me to the curb. I will hurt you before you can hurt me. Or if you hurt me first, that's it. My level of trust in you is gone and I may try, but our life will never be the same. I will always hold myself back and protect my being at all costs. Because it hurts too damn much to feel and I can't drink that shit away anymore so I've found another way to protect myself. Build a goddamn wall around me of defenses.

You have no idea how hard that is for me to admit. Because when I say I use men for sex, that's all you're gonna see. You're not going to see that I honestly do enjoy sex and my libido has been raging for 2 years. You're not going to see the real work I've done trying to be in 2 loving relationships in that time. All you're going to see is "She uses men for sex. I knew it." And that's where my fear comes in. People thinking less of me or interpreting my honest assessment as something other than what I mean it to be.

Just because I have and continue to use men for sex does not mean I haven't loved and been loved in the past. I have and I do to this day love. As much as I am capable of loving anyone, I have loved Chris and Ricky. And if I'm fucking honest with myself, I fucking love Phil and I hate him for it. *eye roll* There's obviously still work to be done, but reading those journals and realizing my apparent lack of growth was a very rude awakening for this almost 43 year old woman.

Jesus.

When I did Step Four before, it was pretty easy. It's easy, because as a woman, we're good at finding our faults. We feel guilty about everything. We feel (& are made to feel by society) shame for simply being female.

But this time.... this time is different. I still want to do it. I'm actually looking forward to it, in a way. I want to change. I want growth. I do not want to come out of this the same person I was yesterday. I want more. I deserve more. We all do. However, it makes me very anxious to fearlessly look at the deep down core shit that I've clung to for decades and it scares me to think of releasing those defenses. As shitty as they are, they've brought me to this point. Good or bad. They've made me who I am today. I thank them for that. But I don't want to be this person anymore. I want to be more. I want to be better.

And I can be.

"You fall in love with the people who make you love the person you are when you're around them."

YES! Exactly! If I'm dating someone and I constantly feel like a giant piece of shit around them or every time I'm with them, I struggle not to...ya know...throat punch them, then yah, I probably don't love you because I don't want to feel like that! I want to feel good when I'm with another person. Not like I might end up in jail.

And I've started telling men, "My solitary life is pretty damn good. I don't need a man. I want a companion. So you've gotta be pretty damn impressive for me to want to change my life. If you're not, or if you're just here for games, keep steppin'. I don't have time to waste on your sorry ass."

It's working well for me so far.


So, yah. I've been incommunicado for awhile, haven't I? It's been a struggle, but I think I've finally discovered the medication combination and time of day in which to swallow my copious drugs in order to feel like a somewhat sane person. I wasn't sleeping for quite awhile but I got a lot of shit decorated around the house.

Dining Room- Finally, an actual dining room

Dining Room wall

 A friend of mine from the church, ages ago, had gifted me a quilt she made with Maxine. I'm sure I've posted a picture of it here before. I had my desk against the newly decorated wall. I moved it upstairs awhile ago but needed to redecorate the wall for a more "dining room-like" feel instead of an office feel.

I got the window and shutters from Ben, repainted them, got the arrow & "&" sign from Target on clearance for $3.00 total and redecorated them for me, made the pineapple out of cardboard and fabric and made the "but first...coffee" sign.  Oh, and made the wreath to hang on one of the doors in the living room. Repurposed here. The dining room looks nice.

Redecorated doors & the accent chair arrived.

I redecorated the doors with a picture frame and a metal envelope hangy-thing I found at a thrift store. I didn't like the look of the 3 wreaths together so I moved one to my main entrance door and one to the dining room wall (mentioned above). The accent chair arrived.  My living room also feels like a lived-in room and also looks nice.  I did have to put industrial strength velcro on the bottom of the couch cushions to keep them from sliding out a bit and it's working great. The blanket's on the couch because Garfield's a shit and I'm not yet to the point where I don't care if she vomits on the new furniture.


My brother, Ben, sent me a picture of a sign he thought was funny and jokingly asked me if I'd make it for him. Of course I said yes. I also thought it was funny. He didn't think his fiance would go for it, but hey, I'm his sister. If I give him a gift, he (& she) would feel obligated to hang it.

One of the best signs I've made thus far!

I love it. I had a light piece of wood (don't ask me what kind of wood, no idea). I slapped on one coat of white, let it dry, slapped on a coat of a sage-green-kinda-color, let it dry and then slapped on a coat of an aqua color.  Then I lightly sanded the whole thing. Then added the decoration. I freaking love the color and how that turned out. I found the mandala's online, tweaked them to fit the board and went with it. Neat.


I had been wanting to find a couple of rocks to paint of god & goddess images and while a friend was putting steel mesh on 3 roof vents (to prevent bat intruders), I searched around my house for the perfect rocks and found them.

Me patting myself on the back, lol.

Who knew painting on rocks was so easy? Why haven't I been doing this the whole time? The only problem was, I had to free-hand sketch the images and I absolutely suck at drawing. However, these turned out pretty good for my lack of artistry skills, if I do say so myself!


I'm still working out at least 3 x's a week and I'm still doing the HIIT cardio & strength training and it's still kicking my ass. I love it. Tho, I now have to wear wraps on both knees to keep them from popping and locking and no, I'm not talking about the dance.

My ankles give out when I'm doing butt kickers, but once I'm through with those, they seem fine.

I'm just getting old and it sucks ass. But I've got the ass of a 20 year old.

Ok, maybe a 30 year old.

Alright, probably a 40 year old. But whatever. I've got an ass and I know I've got an ass because my clothes are fitting differently. I finally understand other women's complaint of finding jeans that are too big in the waist because they have to buy them big for their asses. Not that mine's large, by any means (at least I don't think it is), but it's certainly rounder than it has been. And I noticed the other day, formation of my trapezius muscles. I feel like I'm bulking up a bit without noticing the cut of muscle.  Because I have a layer of fat overlaying everything, lol. Put down the damn ice cream & peanut butter, Amy!


My AA meeting is progressing.  I asked the group last week what they thought about someone different volunteering to chair the meeting each week. They all agreed. It's uncommon for a chair of a meeting to relinquish control of that meeting, but I welcome it. I don't want it to be "my" meeting. I want it to be "our" meeting. I'll still be responsible for getting the key, opening the library, making coffee, etc, etc, etc....but someone else can take the reigns and lead the topic for the morning. This morning went well this way and I was more relaxed. I could just be "member Amy" instead of "leader Amy".

I'm not attending the local meetings as regularly as I had been. I realized what the difference between my city meetings and the small town meetings is.  At my city meetings, there's this expectation that "of course you're gonna make it! Of course you're gonna stay sober! No question about it!" but at the small town meetings, there's this "you're gonna die" mentality.  I don't need downers. I need uppers. I'm easily down enough on my own. I need to surround myself with people who make me love me, not who make me feel as if I'm going to die.  Yah. So I've been limiting my time around those sorts of people.

I've also been limiting my time around those who irritate the fucking hell out of me for whatever reason. It isn't healthy for me and it isn't healthy for them.  And why would I want to be around someone I don't like? Not everybody likes everybody, ya know? And that's okay! It's perfectly natural to connect with some people better than with others. Again, I want (& need) to be around people who make me feel good about myself, not like the giant piece of shit I think I am on a regular basis.

Speaking of, Mom & Dad have returned from their winter-long vacay South. They came back to cold, bitter winds, hail, rain, snow.  I'm sure they were thrilled. I wouldn't really know because I think we've seen each other two or three times since they returned 3 weeks ago, which I'm fine with. I tend to feel like I'm just an anchor around their necks so the less they have to see me to be reminded what a shit I am, the better for them and the better for me. I can pretend I'm a good person when I'm not around those who know better.

And on that note, I'm returning to work tomorrow. I'm just not thinking about it...but in preparation for an anxiety-filled week, I've done this:

My motivation wall

I decided I needed something I could see as soon as I wake up each morning that will remind me I'm a strong, kick-ass, do-anything, no fear, bad ass woman.

I've had the "Amy Dr" sign since my boyfriend stole it as a gift to me when I was 16. I've hauled it with me through 6 moves and 26 years of my life and it's mostly just sat around in odd places. It didn't even have holes in it to hang!  I bought the Stop sign at the Antique Walk a few years ago (as a rehab reminder to STOP thinking) and it has also sat around for those few years. The rest, I bought shitty frames at thrift stores for a few bucks, re-painted them and made the signs to insert.  Each sign makes me smile and reminds me why I started in the first place.

"Let go of that which no longer serves you." One of my most important thoughts the past couple of months.
"Go with a happy heart."
"You are Glorious."  I forget this way more than I remember it.
"Just fucking do it." Yep. Sums up everything.
"Nothing is going to change unless you make different choices." TRUE DAT.
"You Can Do This!"  I can. I really can.
"The universe gave you this gift. Do no squander it."  The universe did give me this gift. I asked and I received. Don't look a fucking gift horse in the mouth, you damn bitch. Accept what has been given to you!
"One small positive thought in the morning can change your whole day."  I believe in the power of thought.
"Don't think. Just do."  Thinking is my problem. Larry, who chaired my Wednesday meeting & has since passed on, used to point at the AA "Think, think, think" sign and tell me, "Amy, see that sign? That one is not for you."  I'll always remember Larry for that...and many other things.

My employer's HR woman has been incredibly empathetic and understanding and compassionate and supportive.  She wants me in that position. Gods knows why, but, again, don't look a damn gift horse in the mouth.  Do it. Don't think about it. Just do. I did ask her what she thought about me being part-time for awhile until I get back in the groove of things. I honestly think it'll help me transition to this thing people call "work" and do on a daily basis for the rest of their lives, lol.  She spoke to the merchandising head and they agreed I could work Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday until 5/21/18 and then go to full-time. It'll allow me to have Wednesday's off smack-dab in the middle of my work week to break up the drudgery and I'll be able to go to CB for my weekly meeting and to run errands and to just be.

I'm hopeful. For the first time in a long time, I'm hopeful. 

Sweet dreams and happy trails,
Me.

"When she was down, she was very, very down. But when she was high, she could fly."

I am so exhausted, I start to think I'm going crazy-er. Crazier. I think I've slept 5 hours in the past 48. At this morning's meeting, I read the topic and then was just at a loss. Like, for once, I have nothing to say. How odd is that? I'm in a fog. Yet, I can't lay down and when I collapse onto the sofa, I only sleep for a little bit. I haven't slept in my bed the past 2 or 3 nights. I just can't. I don't know why. It's the oddest thing and I can't explain it at all except to say that it's insanity.

Yesterday was an okay day. I went to the meeting and did share...bawling, of course, like an idiot. I shared not the personal private stuff going on but just that this is the most dangerous place for me to be and if I call, please answer. I haven't had to call anyone, but I have. I've spoken to Aunt Hope. What a lifeline she is. I talked to Dad this morning but not about me. He's too sick to worry or think about me, according to me. He has enough stress with both him and Mom being ill, I didn't want to add to it. Plus, I'm afraid to talk to them about what's going on. I'm afraid they're going to tell me what a burden I am on them, emotionally and financially. I'm afraid they're going to tell me they're just going to stay South until I get my poop in a group. I'm afraid they'll turn their backs on me. And why wouldn't they?

I'm getting negative. Sorry.

Back to yesterday - I spoke first during the meeting. And then several people who spoke after basically said the same thing - "If you don't do (insert AA shit here), you'll die." If I don't have a spiritual experience, I'll die. If I don't turn it over to my higher power, I'll die. If I don't talk to others in recovery, I'll die. If I don't work the Steps, I'll die.

I listened politely. I smiled at them. And then I went about my day. I can't recall a single thing said yesterday that was actually helpful.

I helped Ben with some stuff and then hauled 4 old doors, 2 pallets and 2 old windows home with me. I'm sick of hauling stuff, but thank Dad, we have his truck!  Here's what I did with 3 of the old doors.

I'm going to hang a wreath on the center door. Something Spring-y. And maybe some of Mom's quilts from the others. I don't know. I like it. It works for me. 

I worked out last night which was awesome. I hadn't in a few days. It felt good. And I had a revelation during the cool down period. 

Religion and AA are very, very similar.  I realized that they both use fire & brimstone to make their members toe the line. Religion says you must invite and welcome Jesus Christ into your heart in order to have life everlasting. AA says you must invite and welcome your higher power into your heart in order to stay sober & live. Religion says if you don't, you will burn in hell for life everlasting. AA says if you don't, you'll die. Religion says we are all born in sin. We're all full of sin. In order to cleanse ourselves, we must be baptized and, again, accept JC as our savior. AA says we're all totally and completely flawed. We're full of resentment, anger, bitterness, self-centeredness, self-will-run-riot is their favorite saying. We're basically just shit in religion and AA. And both of them say we will suffer the severest of consequences if we don't just do what they tell us to do! 

It's all so ridiculous and unhelpful. 

“And what do we get for our faith? For the centuries we’ve given this church or that one our gifts of blood and treasure? The assurance that heaven is waiting for us at the end of it all, and when we get there, the punchline will be explained and we’ll say, ‘Oh yeah! Now I get it.’ That’s the big payoff. It’s dinned into our ears from our earliest days: heaven, heaven, heaven! We will see our lost children, our dear mothers will take us in their arms! That’s the carrot. The stick we’re beaten with is hell, hell, hell! A Sheol of eternal damnation and torment. We tell children as young as my dear lost son that they stand in danger of eternal fire if they steal a piece of penny candy or lie about how they got their new shoes wet.

There’s no proof of these after-life destinations; no backbone of science; there is only the bald assurance, coupled with our powerful need to believe that it all makes sense. But as I stood in the back room of Peabody’s [Funeral Home] and looked down at the mangled remains of my boy, who wanted to go to Disneyland much more than he wanted to go to heaven, I have a revelation. Religion is the theological equivalent of a quick-buck insurance scam, where you pay in your premium year after year, and then, when you need the benefits you paid for so –pardon the pun- so religiously, you discover the company that took your money does not, in fact, exist.” King, Stephen, Revival, pgs 72-73.

Couldn't have said it better myself. 

I don't believe in a higher power. I don't believe in a diety. I believe in my goddamn determination to stay sober, which is the only fucking thing that has kept me so the past 5 days. All I have to do is play the tape through...if I took a drink, I wouldn't stop. I'd drink to oblivion. And it wouldn't be one time. It would be ALL THE TIME. I'd ruin what relationships I have. I'd hurt my family and friends and AA. I'd drink until I died....or worse. Because, to me, there are worse things than death. Loss of everything, loss of family & friends, loss of home, loss of security, loss of love...and having to live with that. 

Drinking doesn't solve anything; it only makes it worse. And staying sober is a helluva lot easier than getting sober. Damn skippy.

So, yah, if I didn't work all the tools in my toolbox, with my own self-will & determination, I'd be drinking right now. Instead, I called friends & family. I went to meetings. I did yoga & meditated. I've stayed busy (I better since I have all these goddamn hours to fill in my day), I called my sponsor and texted her. Am I perfect? No. Definitely not. Obviously not. But I don't consider myself born in sin, nor want or need to focus on my flaws. What I need is focus on positives, because that's the hardest thing for me to do.

This may be the beginning of the end for me & AA. I want to go back to my AA, where I'm not judged, I'm not told I have to do this or that or I'll die, where people accept me and embrace me and aren't so closed-minded, where AA isn't the end-all, be-all, where there are other resources to use to continue this life of sobriety. I want that more than anything. However, I won't make any decision regarding AA in this current mental state. I will take my time and let life flow and see where I end up. I'm okay with that.

I'm still not sleeping and my body is wearing down and my brain isn't working as great as it used to and I feel like I'm not the same person I was last week or even 3 days ago. And maybe that's okay...maybe it's not. I don't know much of anything today. I'm full of hope that I will sleep tonight and I will wake up tomorrow morning refreshed and full of vigor. But if not, I have a plan to call my med-check nurse and get this shit taken care of. A person can't continue like this for very long.

With that, dear friends, I'll bid you good day and peaceful night.

Love you more,
Me

"It is hard to leave something when you are told you will die as a consequence. I can see why some people call it a cult." https://www.recoveringfromrecovery.com/leaving-aa/

I've been trying to figure life out in my head and it's getting all jumbled up so I figured, why not blog about it? Write it out. See if the picture gets any clearer.

I've been struggling the last 2 weeks. Goddamn March. Fuck you and your Irish clover and the color green and that stupid leprechaun!

I really have nothing against leprechauns or rainbows or the color green or clovers & certainly not gold. But come on, March.... Work with me here!

I missed several days last week due to being physically unwell. I wrote about that in the previous post. Catch up if you choose. The weekend was better. Saturday, I went back to a different doctor because mine wasn't in and this doctor I'm not fond of at all, but she said "You're fine" and so I was. Right? Right?!? *eye roll*

Sooooo not right.

Tho folks in AA said I was very different from Saturday to Sunday. Saturday I was much more subdued and down. Sunday I was much more up and perky. Well, sure I was. I'd been on Rexulti for 4 days. I was feeling pretty damn good. Almost too good. Like, uh-oh, is this turning into mania? Um, yeah.

Let me tell you something. Mania feels fucking great. Best feeling in the goddamn world. I can conquer anything and anybody. To do list? Fuck. How about To-Done list?! Sleep? Who fucking needs sleep? Not me! There are too many things I want to do! What can I get done next? Should I build a new house? Write a novel in one night? Scrub every motherfucking floor in my house?

Jesus.

It is not great.

In fact, mania is a far more dangerous place for me to reside than depression.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

So Saturday to Sunday, I took a turn. But not necessarily a turn for the better. I went to bed Sunday with every intention of going to work Monday morning and being a good Stepford employee. However, I woke up Monday and the first thought in my head was, "I'm not going" and when I have even an inkling of that thought, it burrows into my goddamn brain and I am incapable of turning it around. I haven't figured out how yet, and not because I'm sitting around doing nothing. I'm trying to figure it out. Goddamn, am I ever.

So, yah, Monday morning. Do you know how I got to work Monday? Because I was going to quit. That is the only reason I made it to the office. I was going to walk in, not even clock in because how rude to expect to be paid for the 10 minutes it's going to take me to quit?  I walked in and had to search for the HR woman, eventually found her and said, "I don't know what to do". I explained what was going on with me (depression, anxiety, sick) and get this. She understood. She was empathetic. She wants to work with me to get through this. She said very complimentary things about me, like, "I see such potential in you as a buyer. We need somebody stable."  STABLE. Can you believe that? As I'm sitting in her office, crying, telling her I suck at being an adult, I don't know what to do, I think the best thing is for me to quit. (AVOIDANCE much?)  I laughed at her.

She allowed me to take this past week off (unpaid, of course) to work out the problem and she said even if I come back on Monday and tell her I still want to quit, then no hard feelings. That was a relief, to One, have someone understand and Two, not have the guilt, anxiety and fear of calling in, stressing about going or not going, etc, etc, etc.

I grabbed my shit and, after telling my boss I needed the week off to deal with a personal family issue and that HR approved it, I booked it the fuck out of there and went home...and crashed.

Now, I could have stayed in bed all week, not doing jack shit and just wallowing in my misery....but  Rexulti wouldn't allow that and I guess I should be thankful for that much. At this point, I had taken .5 mg Wed, Thurs, Friday and 1 mg Saturday and Sunday (evenings).  Monday, after I crashed, I went for a walk with a friend to get out into the sunshine and get some exercise. I went to Salvation Army and bought some stupid shit and then I went to a meeting, where another member said, "I got a real problem with atheists".  I could have sat there and not shared, but, come on. How could I allow that? So, I very lovingly, kindly, politely and with a smile on my face and a lot of laughter, said "I'm an agnostic atheist. I don't have any knowledge of gods and I lack a belief in gods. But this is what I love about AA. We can all be so very diverse and respectful of each other's beliefs, even if we totally disagree." 

Yah right. Dude wouldn't even look at me the rest of the night. Whatever. I guess you got it all figured out, huh?

But I digress.

(You could almost skip this entire section because I basically give you my agenda for each day, which you probably don't give 2 shits about, but I need to do this for my own record. So skip ahead if you like. I'll tell you when it's safe to read again. :)  ) 

Monday evening, I took .5 mg because I could feel myself ramping up. Tuesday, I tackled a bunch of shit at home, made phone calls to get in to the med-check lady and my therapist and was just busy all damn day. Didn't even nap. Nor did I sleep much Tuesday night... a few hours, at best.  My alarm went off at 4 Wednesday morning, I shut it off, but still woke up 20 minutes later. I needed to wake up and get ready to go to the CB AA meeting at 7AM. I went. It was good. I was rather perky and for the first time ever in that meeting, chose the reading. I'd never done that in that particular meeting before. Odd. Almost 7 years later and I did. Better late than never, right?

I then went to NFM with a friend and bought a new living room set. Because I'm practically jobless, so that seemed like a good idea. *eye roll* I bought a loveseat outright, so at least there's that. I put the rest on credit with 0% interest for 2 years so at least I'm not a total fucking idiot. But still. Come on, Amy! You have to have a job to pay off even 0% interest! So maybe I am a total fucking idiot. I was excited. I didn't stop moving. Ever. My body is so goddamn tired, I can't even explain it.

I met with my med-check lady after NFM and she said, "Whoa. I was expecting crying, sobbing, catatonic Amy. But this isn't good...." At least she got it. I couldn't shut up. I just talk, talk, talk. How annoying am I? So, even though I was high, presumably because of the Rexulti, she thinks we just need to find the balance. The right combination. Maybe every other day. Maybe every 2 days. Maybe .5 one night and 1 mg the next and so on and so forth. It's just finding the right combination.

My insurance won't cover it. Of course not. And it's $1200.00.  Luckily, my provider has a plethora of samples which they're giving me. They're my dealer.

After med-check, I went back to Salvation Army and bought more shit I don't need  (at least I'm shopping thrift stores and not Kohl's). I got home around 4. I did not nap. I went to bed that night after 9 and was awake at 11. Wide awake. I painted. Until 4AM. I slept for a couple more hours and then back at it.

Thursday, I got a massage (I love this masseuse and the massages she gives), went to therapy where Tausha pointed out my behavior pattern of AVOIDANCE. No shit, Sherlock. How do I fucking stop it is the question!!  So she suggested doing yoga, meditating (I already do every morning, work or not...hasn't helped, tho); Going for a walk with a friend. Um, yah, who exactly is going to get up at 5AM to go walking with me? I don't have a good enough friend who would do that for me, nor am I ballsy enough to even ask. Tausha suggested making a PRO's list. I don't needs a CONS list. I've got that down pat. I need a PRO's list to remind me of why I wanted this job in the first place.

And that was pretty much it. All very good suggestions.

New furniture. Accent chair is on backorder.

After therapy, I borrowed Dad's truck and drove to NFM to get my new furniture because I was too antsy to wait 2 weeks for it to be delivered. I hauled it home, a friend & I unloaded it. I hauled my old couch to a friend and almost died carrying it up his stairs, so after that, I wasn't in the mood to be around him any longer....without throat punching him.

It boggles my mind how few people know how to pack and move shit. Like, obviously your father was nothing like mine because mine taught me the proper way to pack the bed of a truck, tie shit down and carry stuff up stairs and how to properly get it through the doorway. Thank you Dad! But it so irritated me that I knew if I hung around, I'd do, if not physical harm, certainly verbal harm. So I left.

And I went to bed at 9 and finally slept. Jesus I slept hard. I woke up at 6 this morning feeling like I could sleep another 9 hours....but I didn't. I got up. I meditated. I yoga'd. I bathed. I went to lunch with Shan, tho didn't really get to talk about what's going on. *sigh* Stopped by the library, got the key, got some movies and ran errands downtown. I came home, in a food coma, and napped on my new loveseat. I got up and intended to write this post then, but got distracted by going through family pictures on my computer and moving them to my phone and I got sad and cried and then I saw a picture of Chris (the ex, not the brother) & I and felt like I was going to vomit. Goddamn, I loved that fucking asshole and even now, I want to message him. What the fuck is wrong with me? I just turned my phone off to make it more difficult to do so. I don't trust myself.

(You can resume reading now, if you took the break you so richly deserve from reading this crazy fucking madness.) 

Then a guy friend came over and he was his typical self which just annoys the fuck out of me and I'm just not in the mood to cater to anyone's needs right now, nor is he helpful at all, so I reached out to my sponsor....who I had not spoken to since last weekend.

I forget I have one! I really do. It's odd. I'm not really the type of person to call on people when I'm in need, unless it's my mom & dad, and even then, I'm less likely at this age to call them for talk-therapy because that's just not who they are and I know that so rather than expecting something different from them and then being disappointed because I didn't receive what I needed in that moment, I just don't expect that from them. They support me in so many other ways....let's give them a break from crazy Amy, shall we?

I'm just not one to call people when I need. Am I? Maybe I am. I don't know. Right now, I'm not. I try. I do! I tried to get with Shan all damn week but it never worked out because of life and then today it did work out, and I tried to share with her my struggle, but it wasn't really being received (distractions), so.... yah. One person. I reached out to one person. Tho I did go to med-check lady and I did go to therapy. I'm doing what I'm supposed to do....but I guess it's not enough.

I should've called my sponsor much earlier than this evening.

And here's my problem with AA.

After sharing with her everything....literally everything.... she did what a sponsor does. She asked how we can work the steps through this problem...and that I should think of the steps in terms of alcoholism, not alcohol, because it seems to her that my problems are alcoholism.

Hm.

So my depression and anxiety and mania and craziness are alcoholism? They're all a result of my alcoholism? They're not stand-alone? Or maybe, just maybe, they're what brought on or caused the alcoholism. How about that? Because that's what I think. I don't think the depression, etc are a result of alcoholism. I think alcoholism is a result of those things. But what I took away from her was that, I clearly have issues with my mood, but that alcoholism is the core.

Is it? Am I just too stubborn to see that? Or is this just shit?

I do just fine with AA as long as I don't delve too deeply into it. Do you understand what I mean? If I don't look too closely at it, if I only look at it peripherally, then it's fine. I can make do. But when I start to go deeper into AA, I see such religious, AA-righteous, "do this or you'll die", ambiguous teachings, antiquated teachings, Steps that aren't effective (3%, folks. 3-fucking-% success rate). I see gossip and hurtful things. I've read the Big Book much  more recently because of the meeting I started and think, "How have I stayed in AA so fucking long? This is really a religious program." I read the Daily Reflections every morning. It's 95% of the time about God and God with a capital "G". They don't even try to pretend it isn't about GOD. If they did, they wouldn't capitalize G. If it wasn't religious, why do we say the Serenity Prayer and the Lord's Prayer? Why do I need a higher power to pray to? I don't believe in prayer. I believe in the power of thought. Is that all they mean? I think not. I believe in nature. Does that mean I should pray to it?

*sigh* It's all so frustrating to me.

My sponsor is funny and smart and lovely and I would love to be her friend in real life (outside of AA), but this is my problem. She wants me to look at AA a little too closely and ya know what? I wanted to work the fucking steps. I did. And maybe I still can....just in a different way. Hm. That's a new realization. Maybe I can rewrite the steps. Keep the basis the same, but remove all religiousness. I think I shall at least try. I know there are secular AA meetings that have probably already gone though the process. I can pilfer from them.

Back to my sponsor phone call. She also questioned my med check lady and how my Rexulti is dispensed and the terms in which I take them. My med-check lady basically left it up to me. "As needed". She just said to call her when I need her. I'm capable of that. Clearly. Yet, my sponsor said that's a dangerous place for an addict to be.

I've never abused drugs, except to try to harm myself, lol, so I guess I have. But not in an addict-sort-of-way. Never. It just doesn't appeal to me. I don't enjoy the effect of drugs. Hell, I don't even enjoy the effects of alcohol at this point. I honestly think if I were to go to a bar or buy alcohol at the store, it'd be shocking for me to do so without having a major catastrophic crisis of conscience. But say I did. Say I went to a bar. Imagine that glass of beer (or whatever) sitting in front of me. Do you think I would be able to pick it up and drink it?

Writing that, as I was writing it, I thought, "Oh god, yes I would. I would guzzle that beer so fucking fast, I can almost taste it."  I would. And god, I can taste it.

(pause)

I took a 1.5 hour break from this post. After I wrote that last bit, I freaked out and immediately texted Shan and got my ass down to her house and cried and laughed and talked and listened. And now I'm finally hungry and tired so rather than finish all of my thoughts on this tonight or even wait to finish it tomorrow, I'm going to post what I have and hope to get back to it tomorrow. But if I don't.... I was going to say "Don't worry" but that's ridiculous. My sponsor said one good thing tonight that I'll take with me: There's good selfish and bad selfish. Right now, I'm in need so being selfish is good. Think of the stewardesses speech at the beginning of each flight. Put the mask on yourself first and then help the person next to you....because if you're dead, you can't help a damn soul.

"Hello darkness my old friend." "I ain't your friend."

I think I figured something out today and I can't believe it's taken me this long to figure it out.

Did I write about March being a bad month for me, traditionally, throughout my life? And how I found several websites about Reverse SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) and how I thought, "Finally! A reason!" 

Yeah, well, now I think there's a strong correlation between seasonal allergies and depression. I'm not saying everybody with allergies gets depressed and I'm certainly not saying depression causes allergies. That'd be ridiculous, right?

I am saying, however, that having allergies (if that's what this is, which I assume so) makes me fatigued and sleepy and sick with a headache, body aches, coughing, runny nose, stuffy nose, sneezing...and that all of that leads to feeling mentally unwell - somehow "less than" normal people, worthless, hopeless. I want to crawl into bed and stay there. I contemplate ending my life because what's the point if I'm never going to make it as an adult? What am I doing, exactly? Who am I benefiting by existing? Why would any employer hire me? Why do my friends even care about me? I'm nothing. I'm nobody.

See how quickly that all happens? Jesus. It's no wonder I've been in therapy most of my adult life.

BUT! There is hope. 

Somehow, even though I know when I get physically ill, my mental health quickly follows suit, reading a bunch of scientific studies on-line about the relationship between allergies and depression made me feel....better. 

Now, do I feel better because it's Friday and I don't have to worry about going to work or not going to work for 2 days? Do I feel better because I can breathe even though my head hurts and my chest hurts and I'm still coughing...being able to breathe through my nose makes me feel like I'm returning to "normal"? Do I feel better because I literally slept all day? Do I feel better because I took a bath with epsom salt & essential oils? Do I feel better because I rubbed said essential oils on my chest to release the tightness? Do I feel better because I did some peaceful yoga? Do I feel better because Pysch is on t.v.?

Maybe it's all of those things. Maybe it's none of those things. Who the fuck knows?

I'm not saying my thoughts have suddenly cleared and I'm all "happy, happy, joy, joy" because I'm not. But for tonight, at least, I don't feel like I'm going to have any more suicidal thoughts. I'm focusing my thoughts on the positive and am grateful for this day, as shitty as its been. I'm especially grateful for this blog and the ability to share without actually having to speak and for all of you who help bring me back to sanity. I'm grateful for this beautiful house and for Garfield and for all of my friends & family and for a job I don't deserve and for exercise and yoga and meditation and candles and incense and Spring and the sound of birds and for early mornings and for late nights...

And now my boss just texted me asking if I went back to the doctor today which I did consider but did not do, tho I did call my shrink and left a message to call me back because I need to get a handle on this depression and didn't hear anything back from her, so..... now the anxiety is back and I'm feeling like the shittiest person on earth and I don't want to lie to my boss but I don't necessarily want to tell her exactly what I'm going through either. 

Why do I have to make everything so damn hard?

Here are some articles I read about allergies & depression:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/12/health/12really.html

https://www.achooallergy.com/learning/the-link-between-allergies-depression/

http://www.cnn.com/2011/HEALTH/04/20/allergies.depression.moods/index.html

"I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure a Nyquil margarita will solve all your problems."

Yes, I'm sick.

In more ways than one, though.

You well know that if my physical health takes a nosedive - and not even a very steep nosedive, at that- it's a very small step to the deterioration of my mental health.

I started to get sick Saturday with a dry persistent cough. Sunday, sore throat, dry cough. My sinuses felt fine. My throat hurt. Monday I woke up and thought, "I really do not want to go to work" and that's all it took. One stupid simple negative thought and my brain wouldn't let it go. Obsess much? I ended up going to work, but left early to go to the doctor to see if it was flu.

It wasn't. Of course not. It's a goddamn cold which can't be treated with any antibiotics so I'm stuck with OTC shit that makes me loopier than if I didn't take them. I decided to try Alka Seltzer Cold & Cough because that worked for me ONE TIME, 10 YEARS AGO.

Jesus.

It made me sick. So guess what? No more of that.

I did not go to work Tuesday or Wednesday. I slept the majority of those 2 days and went to work Thursday. Why, I don't know, because I wasn't any better and in fact, I think it did me more harm than good. By the end of the work day, the cough that had dissipated, came back phlegmy.

Yum.

Last night was by far the worst. I could at least sleep before. Last night, the stuffy nose and head full of snot began. I tried to sleep with a Breathe Right strip, to no avail. I got out of bed this morning and thought, "Fuck no, I'm staying right here".

And so I did.

It's too early in this new job to miss so many days in one goddamn week. I haven't been there nearly long enough to not want to go already.

Yes, I'm sick and here's how I know I'm sick. I haven't sang since Sunday. I sing every damn day, every time I get a chance, in the tub, in the car, while I'm cooking, while I'm working out, every chance I get, I sing. Not a peep since Sunday and I'm not even sure I sang that day. I just know I haven't sang in my car or at home all week. It didn't hit me until last night. I never realized how often I sing and how much I enjoy it, until I can't.

But so what? So I have a sore throat? So my head is full of snot? So I've slept a shit-ton this week? So I'm still so tired I can't keep my hands at 10 & 2 on the steering wheel? So. What. I could go to work. I proved that yesterday by going and suffering through it all day. Other adults go to work sick all the time. Hell, people with cancer and chemo treatments still go to work..... So why can't I?

I've beat myself up every damn day this week because 1. I'm sick 2. I'm weak 3. I'm not normal 4. I can't figure out what my deal is.

I talked to my sponsor about it last night and she laughed and said it's an alcoholic thing.

Really? Because all my life I thought it was just me, sucking at life, sucking at adulting, sucking at normal. It's good to know it isn't just me, that there are plenty of other sick-o's out there who behave the same way I do. It doesn't make it okay, by any means, but it does give me a little bit of validation. Like, maybe I'm not the one person in all of humanity who sucks at life in this particular respect.

I still don't understand it and I still think there is something inherently wrong with me and I honestly don't know how to change it....but maybe once my head clears, I'll be able to think it all through.


On another note, I don't know how this keeps happening but my roles in relationships tend to be whatever male role from my immediate previous relationship. 

For example, after Chris, I dated Ricky. Suddenly, Ricky was me and I was Chris (from my previous relationship).  And now I'm not in a relationship because I flat-out refuse to be, but I sort-of am and suddenly I'm Ricky and this new guy is me from that previous relationship. It's weird.

When I was with Ricky, I was insecure and untrusting and needy and way clingy (like Chris was with me) and Ricky was much more secure, more mature, more independent, not needy in the least (as I was with Chris before).  Now, I wouldn't say I'm any of those positive attributes Ricky exhibited, but I'm certainly not needy and more like anti-needy: "I don't need you. You can go away at any time and I'd be just fine with that. I don't even like you." That's how I felt Ricky thought when we were together, like he must not really want me because he's not behaving in the way I've learned shows "like", "want", "need" or "love". I realize now, he was simply behaving as a healthy male adult should behave.

I remember when Ricky was sick and I couldn't see him. Ugh. It made me uncertain and scared and needy and behave poorly. And now I'm sick and I don't really want to see anyone or be around anyone and everyone can just fuck off...but this guy is needy and demanding and pouty and whiny and so fucking annoying. So here I am reflecting on my behavior when I was with Ricky and his behavior towards me and my current behavior with this dude and wondering if it's Karma that I switch roles every relationship or if it's all just learned behavior.

Well! This was very apropos.

I don't know.... and because I don't care if this guy stays or goes, I feel almost compelled to be my most straight-forward self and say "This is what I need. If you can't give me that, there's the door." And while it's incredibly rude, it's also very freeing to finally be able to say whatever the fuck I want to say and not worry about another person's feelings...because mine are totally protected.

If this pattern continues, that means the next relationship I'm going to be in, I'll be needy (again), whiny, clingy, annoying, a regular sap and he'll be rude and disrespectful and for some inane reason, I'll stick around and take it.

It's a fucked-up world I create.

I don't know...

But I do know, I'm not in a receptive place so any comments you feel like sharing will not be received from a place of gratitude. Probably more from a place of "fuck off, you don't know me" which is totally irrational because only you people "know" me.

And now I'm exhausted from typing and thinking and feeling shitty about myself so I'm gonna go back to bed and just lay there.

"Someone asked me 'Would you be friends with people who spoke to you the way you speak to yourself?' and I was fucked up for 30 minutes."

WORK

It's been a (relatively) good week. I missed 2 days because of the weather and thank the gods today is Saturday because if it was a work day, I most definitely would not have ventured outside my house. I love winter. You know I do. But man, I am terrified of driving in it. When did I become such a wuss? I watch way too much weather. As soon as I wake up, I'm watching Ryan McPike on Channel 3 and flipping to the other two stations plus the Weather Channel to try to figure out which one is right. I pull up the weather radar on my phone. I look at Iowa 511 to see how the roads are and where the plow trucks are....and if there are cameras on them, I look at the pictures.

It's too damn much.

I spoke to someone the other night and she said, "I'm a weather denier" because it doesn't do her any good so she just doesn't watch.

I can't go to that extreme. I mean, I like to know how to dress, at least.

Work was surprisingly understanding. It's such a different atmosphere as compared to my last employer. Sure, there's still gossip but I'm not a part of it nor will I be. Sure, everyone feigns the "get along" attitude but I hear so & so bitching about so & so. But there's also laughter and a lot of hard work and I just keep my head down and plug away at my work. Which I enjoy. So there's that.

But to be honest, my anxiety is out of control most mornings, my stomach has been a wreck since even before I got the job offer and hasn't gotten any better....but once I start my morning routine, I'm good to go. Tho I wish I had a dose of Xanax to ease the transition.

AA

I went to my first AA meeting in about a month in the next town over Saturday morning (before the freezing drizzle started to get bad). I haven't missed it, really. It was getting so dramatic and gossipy and judgmental which isn't helpful at all. But, I'm not able to get to my City meetings since I'm working, and running a meeting is a different feeling than attending a meeting so my meeting is more leading than sharing, and the meetings in the town I'm working in aren't until 8PM so that isn't happening. 

I needed the Saturday morning meeting. Not because I fear I'm going to drink but because it's like a check-up, a reminder. It's good to be around people who've lived my life and understand better than anyone else and can laugh when I say "In the beginning Lois said she was grateful to be sober and I would just stare at her & think 'you're so full of shit because this fucking sucks'".  And everybody laughs because they understand or they felt exactly the same way....and today I can say honestly I am truly grateful to be sober and it no longer sucks and it's no longer torment. I can say that in the beginning I had to go through a mourning phase. It was as if I had lost my best friend. I was losing this thing that had been with me for 23 years. I was losing my crutch. I was losing my escape. I had to mourn & grieve....and then see how shitty a best friend alcohol always was, and be okay to let it go. It was a good meeting, all around, and I'm looking forward to leading tomorrow's.

And some momentous news..... I got a sponsor.

Funny

She's attended meetings in the next town over and when she's free, attends the Sunday morning meeting. Her husband is almost always there. She has a lot of years in, she's funny and I just walked up to her last Sunday and asked if she'd help me walk through the steps. Because I've only done through Step 4 with the sponsor I had the first 3 months of sobriety (& then dumped) and haven't worked them since. It's been 6 1/2 years. I'm in a much better place now than I was in early sobriety. I was a gigantic mess. I'm still a mess, just not a gigantic one. I'm hopeful.... & reticent at the same time. I'm confident in my beliefs so if anyone says I "have" to believe this or I "have" to do that in order to stay sober, I'm going to take what they said into consideration, either incorporate it into my life or, more likely, thank them for their time and move on. 

Reading through the AA literature more lately because of my meeting has reminded me why I'm not an AA traditionalist. I don't believe that AA is the only way to stay sober. I don't believe that AA is the only way to become a better person. I'm not a hardcore AA person. I don't believe in God and my higher power isn't a deity. One of the readings today basically said that atheists are "unmoral" (isn't the word "immoral?) and material.  I strongly disagree. Strongly. A person doesn't need God or religion to be moral or compassionate or selfless or forgiving. 

We are not born with a belief in God. It's taught to us. 

A lot of AA is about faith and God...or a Higher Power (tho what Bill W. and Dr. Bob originally meant was, in fact, religion and God).  But if my higher power isn't the same as anyone else's higher power, then guess what? Mine is wrong and I should believe what they believe or I'm going to drink. 

I haven't drank in this long and I have no intention to drink and the tools I use to counteract any thought of drinking work for me. And that's the point. Take what works for you and leave the rest. 

Ugh. See? I'm already combative. I'm going to stop looking for trouble where there is none...yet. 

LOW CARB & LOVIN' IT

Visit if you haven't already!  I'm enjoying writing it so far and love thinking of "What's next?" or what I should write about long-term. I needed something fresh to write about.  It's helpful to me and hopefully helpful to just one other person.  I'm looking forward to writing about my workouts and the one I'm doing now & have been the past 3 weeks - HIIT Total Body Strength & Cardio workout. HIIT is High Intensity Interval Training. It kicks my ass. Literally. I do butt kickers for warm up. But seriously, I'm sore. My ass hurts. My thighs hurt. My triceps hurt. My stomach even hurts. 

Yep

I worked out 4 days last week. I'm aiming for 3 this week and 4 the next.  I have yet to break the 120 lb barrier on my scale but I tell myself "It's because you're building muscle and muscle weighs more!" *eye roll* I'd really like to see 119 lbs....if only to make sure my scale is capable of dropping below 120. 

And now I'm hungry and tired and want some really shitty food for lunch followed by reading (I'm on "Wolves of Calla" the fifth book in Stephen King's "The Dark Tower" series....so good!), and a nap. 

Life is good. It really, really is. 

Love you more,

Me