"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.

"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

Step Nine: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

So.

To continue the ongoing, but hopefully over, drama of intimate relationships in AA....

I blocked AA guy's texts and phone calls after I made my apology to him and he flipped me off. I figured he wouldn't stop texting me. I was right because even though my phone doesn't show any text messages or phone calls (it will allow voicemails), my notification software still displays his contact image when he sends a text. I've since changed his contact image to

Just to be clear, I would never cause physical harm to anyone at any time.

But it is funny.

After his contact image showed up again after the Steelers v. Patriots game (he's a Pats fan, I'm Steelers, so I can only imagine what his message was....), I sent him a message letting him know I had blocked him and that I wasn't receiving any of his messages and that not engaging with each other is for the best and I wish him well. 

That worked because there's been no attempt at contact since.  Tho, it has only been one day.  Give him time to figure out another way to get at me.

Anywhoo, I chaired the meeting in my little hamlet yesterday morning as usual and was nervous as hell.  Because 1. I had no idea if this guy would have the balls to show up - I wouldn't have put it past him, and 2. I had decided to express my apologies to the group if I had caused any of them harm personally or if I had caused harm to the group (as he stated to me I did). 

He didn't show up, thank goodness.

I had written out what I wanted to say because if I had just spoken on the fly, I never would've gotten it all out.  I cried. Of course I cried. I felt like a fucking idiot for getting myself into this position. I was mortified. I was embarrassed. I was incredibly remorseful.

I basically apologized. I didn't use any names. I didn't go into any detail. I simply said I was sorry but that words were cheap and I hoped they would allow me the opportunity to show my true intent in walking through any door into an AA meeting - to stay sober, to be in fellowship with other alcoholics and to lend a helping hand when I can. 

I said that I knew my intentions had been questioned and even my sobriety and the length of my sobriety had been questioned.  While I would not discuss this individual because I believe in keeping people's confidences, I would be happy to share my personal story with anyone who wanted to hear it.

I'm not sure I've ever been so sorry....sober.  I don't know. I can't remember.  But I sure as hell am sorry for this.

Everybody that was there was supportive and helpful when it was their time to share and all said they would be back.  We'll see, I guess. 

I had said in order to rectify the situation, it might be best for me to step away from some meetings.  I know that I can compartmentalize things pretty easily, meaning, if he & I were both at a meeting (like last Saturday), I could pretty easily treat him like any other person in AA.  However, if he were to make any remarks or comments directed at me, I'm not sure I would have the ability to sit there and shut up.  You know me. *eye roll*  And I don't think he's able to compartmentalize like I can. So, it might be best for me to step away for a bit and let shit cool down.

I'm not in danger of drinking.  I don't think I am, anyway. I don't feel like I am. I have other meetings I can go to.  He's new-ish to the program. He needs those meetings more than I do.  He doesn't have a way to get to any other meetings. They're very important to him.  They're important to me, too, but less so.  So that seems like a way I can make a proper amends to him....by removing myself from some meetings so he's able to attend comfortably.  Not that he'll see it that way, but whatever.

I hated making that apology during a meeting, but what better time to do it than during an AA meeting, right? We're supposed to talk about what's weighing on our hearts in order to help us stay sober. We're supposed to share how we stay sober in spite of challenges. I felt a great sense of relief afterward. That makes me feel like it was a selfish thing to do.  I think most apologies are. They're difficult to make but I do them to release the anguish I feel for the mistakes I make. Carrying that guilt with me will surely send me to a drink. I don't really feel any guilt, tho. Or shame. I didn't intentionally cause harm. I didn't intentionally seek anyone out for sex (I have, don't get me wrong...just never at an AA meeting). What it comes down to is my intent. I didn't intentionally mean to do anyone wrong. I did, tho, and that's what I take responsibility for.

I've kept to myself today, tho I did go for an early morning walk just to get outside and get some exercise. I didn't feel like spending time in my basement was going to cut it this morning. I needed to breathe fresh air and enjoy the sparkle of frost on the trees and watch the sun rise. I can see how I could easily get down in the dumps if I don't keep at the things that I know work for me.  Not isolating. Staying busy. Being productive. Looking for work. Reaching out to friends. Actually spending time with them. Keeping a positive attitude. Exercise. Sleep. Eating healthy.

Yes, Christmas is going to be tough.  The folks are down south. We've already had our family Xmas. I don't have any plans except to watch holiday movies. It's just another day, right? That's how I have to look at it. It's just another day. What would I do any other Monday? Get my ass out of bed. Exercise. Get shit done. Take a nap. Get more shit done. Watch t.v. Read. Cuddle with Garfield. Enjoy the Xmas lights and decorations. Light some candles. Peace & Quiet. Bliss.

I'll have a meeting on Xmas Eve so there's that. And if shit gets really bad, the Big O has an Alcathon (a meeting every hour from 6PM Xmas Eve to 6PM Xmas Day).  If I get into a bad spot, I have plenty of people to reach out to who will help. 

I do want to give a shout out to "Amy's Friend" who texted me Saturday evening after reading my post. I appreciate anyone who can call me out on my shit...lovingly. Call me out on my shit any other way and I will fucking end you. But do it from a place of love and I am grateful to you. He did and I am.

"It is possible to be so ignorant that you do not know how ignorant you are."

If you don't know you're doing something, did you actually do it?

First off, I spoke to the AA guy Thursday. We went to a public place and talked and I left it at that. He was hopeful. I was less than. I picked him up for the meeting Thursday evening and 2 minutes before we got there, he told me he had spoken to another member about us (my older gentleman shopping friend) and boy, oh boy. Did that piss me off.

I told him that was a dick move. We had agreed not to involve AA in our "relationship". He chose that person on purpose because he knew we were friends. I didn't speak at that meeting and people could tell I was "off" and I ended up leaving that guy there. He could find his own way home.

He texted and apologized. I didn't respond. He texted last night that he was going through some shit and I told him to contact an AA man.

He was at the meeting this morning, which I felt really good during. I mean....really good. But afterward, he texted me again and said he needed to talk. I again told him to contact an AA man. He said it wasn't about AA.

Well, sort of.

I stopped at his place before coming home and he was a self-righteous asshole, telling me I "claim" to have 6 years sobriety, that I'm a massive manipulator, that I'm vindictive.  I think he just didn't like seeing me happy, to be honest. And fuck him for questioning my fucking 6 + years of sobriety. FUCK. HIM. I've worked my ass off for those 6 years. Just because I'm not like everyone else doesn't make me less sober, motherfucker.  AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! Fuck. You. Very. Much.

I'll work my program, you work yours. Keep your own side of the street clean. Asshole.

But then he said I 13th Stepped him and I know the look on my face was, "WTF?"

I had never heard of the 13th Step or "13th Stepping someone" until today and I had to come home and google that shit.

And lo & behold, I did. I 13th Stepped that guy. I could make all sorts of excuses. I didn't even know there was such a thing as a 13th Step! He was the one who gave me his number, not the other way around. I was very clear about not wanting to date a newbie. He was persistent. Yada, yada, yada.

It's all bullshit. Because I have over 6 years in sobriety. I'm the one who should have known better. I'm the one who had the "power" because of those years and because of his newness. I put him in a very vulnerable state and did I take advantage of that? I suppose I did. I wasn't aware that's what I was doing. I thought I was simply feeding a need and he was a more-than-willing participant. 

But that's like saying a drunk 14 year old girl "consents" to having sex with an older boy.  No, no she doesn't. She's incapable of giving consent because 1. She's 14! and 2. She's drunk. HE has all of the power. She has none.

I've made my apology to him. He did not accept it. I called to make the amend and left it at that. He called me back and said he doesn't accept my apology, he doesn't want anything to do with me until I....well, he's basically trying to work my program, which doesn't ever work, so I'm gonna leave it at that. He said he's still available for a booty call. 

Um, no. Never again. Not on your life.

So I texted him that I simply wanted to make my apology. I was unaware, but that's no excuse. I should've known better. I think he's right, that we should not engage with each other anymore and that I wish him all the best.

He sent me back the

Understandable. 

However, I do believe he's attempting to manipulate me. He's a massive manipulator, which is what he claims I am as well. Perhaps I am and that's why I see through his shit so easily.  

I think what's best for me (& him & the group) is to step away from the AA meetings in that particular town. Man, I'm going to fucking miss those people, but to save my reputation and to show that I am not a 13th Stepper Predator (jesus fuck), I think that's for the best. I'll continue to chair my own meeting Sunday mornings and those who choose to come will be welcome, of course. I hope to see those from the meetings I've been attending there. 

Goddamn. How did I get into this mess? My vag, that's fucking how. Stupid vag.  She's not doing the thinking for me anymore. 

"Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them." - Margaret Atwood

Well, folks, this is going to be one brutally honest post that will leave me feeling embarrassed, ashamed, loathing myself, scared....but mostly relieved as fuck to get it off my chest and out there. It's as if once I write about some distressing incident on this blog, I can move on. Or at least try to move on. And, it doesn't hurt that someone out there in the vast world knows what's going on in my life. I tend not to personally bother anyone with my stupidity because, well, it's stupid. And I would have to come face-to-face with my embarrassment through someone else's eyes and who wants to do that? No, I'm sure it's much healthier to experience this embarrassment in the comfort of my home away from prying eyes. Much healthier. 

So, to preface....

I've blogged about a guy I'd been having trouble communicating with, someone I was trying to take the time to attempt to feel a deeper connection to because it just wasn't there.  I felt like I was trying to force a square peg into a round hole. And why? For fuck's sake, why? That might be for another post, folks, but I'm sure it comes down to...I just want to feel loved and to love. It's as simple and as complicated as that. 

Anywhoo, (and here comes only a smidgen of the embarrassing part), he's the guy from AA who is fresh in sobriety but who I had reached out my hand to help. And, with all sincerity, that's all it was to me. I had absolutely no sexual or romantic intention. None whatsoever. In fact, I found him way too somber and "off" during meetings. But he's going through a criminal case and he's in limbo and he might go to prison for a very long time (70 years, I'd heard him say) and so I felt for him. What would I do in that position? Geez, I don't even want to imagine and thank my higher power, I never got caught or killed anyone or any other heinous crime while drunk.  And he was drunk (according to him) when this incident happened.  

I didn't know what the incident was.  That was for him to tell me in his own time or not at all because honestly, I'm not there to judge. I'm a member of AA. We lend a helping hand to any alcoholic in need. 

I'm also a giant fucking idiot.

So he would text me his depressing thoughts and I would push him towards his sponsor or therapist.  And then he would have these delightfully funny moments where he was relatively normal and I would think to myself, "Yeah, I would do him." Because my brain at age 42 is wired directly to my vagina. Another smidgen of the embarrassing truth. 

I like sex. I like all of it. Thoroughly. This shouldn't surprise any of you. I hit 40, got off Depo, and my libido came raging back after being dormant for 20 years. I didn't even date for 8 years in my 30's! EIGHT FUCKING YEARS. So maybe my vag is making up for lost time, I don't know. But I cannot wait for the day(s) menopause hits and my vag dries up like the fucking Sahara desert and my libido goes *poof*.  Because being distracted by lustful thoughts can be entertaining and fun but damn. It mostly sucks. 

There's a Seinfeld episode for that. There's a Seinfeld episode for every aspect of my life. This one is called "The Abstinence". George has to refrain from sex with his girlfriend because she has mono and because George's brain is no longer distracted by sex, he becomes really, really smart. Elaine stops having sex with her boyfriend to help him get as smart as George and pass his medical exam. The flip side is that poor Elaine becomes really, really stupid. Jerry explains it best:

Jerry: To a woman, sex is like the garbage man. You just take for granted the fact that any time you put some trash out on the street, a guy in a jumpsuit's gonna come along and pick it up. But now, it's like a garbage strike. The bags are piling up in your head. The sidewalk is blocked. Nothing's getting through. You're stupid.

So, yes, in a moment of lust and normalcy on his part, I expressed honestly what I was feeling. "I would like to have sex with you, but that's all it'll be. Can you handle that? I don't want to date you. I don't want a relationship outside of AA and the bed. Can. You. Handle. That?"  He said he could. He said he would happily fill the position of "fuckboy" in my life for as long as I wanted him to and for awhile there, it worked. 

Until he caught feels. 

Of course he did. How could he not? I'm fucking amazing. 

But....wait....

I didn't. I didn't catch feelings. Sure, there were rare moments of fun, of him acting normal, of superb sex, but 90% of the time, I found him incredibly, enormously annoying and irritating. So much so, I just wouldn't talk. I hate not talking. 

I said to my therapist, "I don't even know if I like him or not. I'm still deciding." 

He finally told me his crime a week and a half ago. I find it repulsive and disgusting and absolutely horrid. It fills me with shame and disgust. Because what kind of a fucktard am I that I would get involved with someone like this? I won't disclose his crime and won't disclose his name or any details about any of it, but.... damn. 

And then, I thought, I understand black out drunk (he told me he was blacked out). I am a black out drunk. I would drink to oblivion and not remember a damn thing the next morning. In my 20's I had a black out and woke up in bed, naked, next to a guy whose name I did not know. I still don't know it. Yes, that's horrible, but that's what my alcoholism was like. Detrimental to my health. It does not define me. It does not make me a horrible human being. It makes me very, very sick and thankfully, I got the help I needed through the grace of my parents and friends and today I can look back on that shit and think, "Thank my higher power I'm still alive today". Because I could've (should've) died many many times for all the poor decisions and bad situations I made and put myself in. 

Just as he did. And in AA, what do we do? Reach out the helping hand to any alcoholic in need. *eye roll*

And then he started saying he loved me and, again, in a moment of lust, I responded the same. 

I don't recall a time in my life when I retracted an "I love you" but thankfully, he opened the door for me to do so and I took full advantage. I told him that no, I didn't love him. And he didn't believe me, but whatever. I can't change what someone thinks. All I can do is be me and me is not in love.  

I kept trying. I kept thinking, Why not him? I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was about our fully-clothed interactions that irritated me so damn much. I hung out with my dude neighbor friend the other night just to make sure I was still capable of having a normal conversation with a man and not get irritated. I didn't. We had fun. We always have good conversations. Whew. Glad I didn't break that. 

So, after taking 5 days away from the AA man, texting daily but not actually speaking or seeing each other, my thought was to attempt to take my selfishness out of the equation and be in service to him.  No, not to serve and obey him, but to act selfless, put aside my irritated personality and do kind things for him. 

It didn't help. I still found him enormously irritating. 

So, yesterday, after the meeting, I told him I couldn't keep doing "this". I told him the square peg into a round hole thing. It wasn't working. It wasn't going to work. He is who he is and I am who I am and we're not meant to be (which is what I'd said from the beginning). 

He said he didn't believe that. He didn't believe me. He called me a miserable, toxic person. He said I was a pathological liar. When I asked him what I'd lied about he said "Your age."  

That still makes me laugh. I have never lied about my age. I'm damn proud of being 42. 

He also said I lied about having never slept with anyone in AA. 

That isn't what I'd said. I'd said I'd never slept with anyone from a meeting before. Of course I've slept with men in AA. AA's a huge program throughout the world. There are men everywhere in AA. The likelihood of me sleeping with one of them isn't rare. I'd met a guy online, we hit it off, we found out we're both in the program but we didn't attend any of the same meetings. I've taken him to one of mine. He's taken me to one of his. We're not dating. We both know we're not right for each other in that way, but we enjoy sharing our time together when we can and if we can hit an AA meeting in the process, all the better. 

So, no, I didn't lie. I don't think I have any secrets. I'm a pretty open book. Yes, my life is private. I don't go around airing my dirty laundry. I'm protective of myself because people are assholes. But if someone outright asks me something, I have a hard time not answering them. If I'm uncomfortable doing so, I just say so... "I'm not comfortable talking about that." Simple. 

So, I took him home after telling him it was over because, of course, he can't drive. I just let him rant on and on for 20 minutes because he obviously needed to. I was silent. When he got out of the car, I said I was sorry, he kissed me, said a few more not-so-kind words and that was that. 

Until 5 minutes later, when he started blowing up my phone and continues to this morning. No kidding. I'm not going to count every single message he has sent me from 10:40am Sunday to this morning because I don't have the time, but I have screenshot every single one and am keeping them for the police, when they find my mutilated body. Maybe it'll help them solve my murder. 

So here comes the truly embarrassing part but there isn't a way to express or show you what I mean without actually showing you. 

This is where it gets bad. 

And then back to loving. 

And then just...WTF?

Again WTF WTF WTF. Chris?!? Huh?

Let me be clear here: I love sex. I am not addicted to it. There is nothing wrong with a woman enjoying sex. But perhaps I do go about it the wrong way, lol. At least I can laugh about this shit. 

Both hateful and loving at the same time. Pick a goddamn emotion and stick with it! And then minor panic set in because did he just threaten to air my dirty laundry during an AA Meeting? 

This is where he really freaked me out and I had another minor panic attack and then thought, fuck that shit. I talked to the only person I could talk to and not feel mortified and he agreed that my "no response" was the correct response. 

My folks have given up on me finding "the one". They'd be happy if I just settled, lmao. But no, not with this guy.

Um, why am I doing this? Because THIS. 

Hate, love, manipulation and then....as if all those previous posts didn't just happen the night before. 

Oh, an apology! No. Not really. It's a "sorry not sorry". Ugh.

I have not responded to a single text. Not one. And yet, it continues. 

There's a new term for this kind of behavior: BYE FELIPE

It's when a man loses his shit after a woman politely rejects him. There's an Instagram account specifically for posting the barrage of text messages women receive after rejecting a man. It's all a bit ridiculous if you ask me....and more than a little scary. 

I'm honestly waiting for him to threaten my life and then shit gets real. Maybe he has and I just don't read it that way. I don't think so. I think he's a terribly troubled man and if he needs to spew shit at me, so be it. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I don't. I've come to terms with it over the last 24 hours and hope he finds peace somehow, someway. 

But don't for a second think that if he eludes to threatening me physically, I won't call the police. 'Cause I sure as shit will. I don't deserve to die at the hands of a psychopath. I deserve to die slipping on my kitchen rug while tossing a handful of peanut butter M&M's into my mouth as I fall onto my fat cat. 

I, of course, googled the shit out of why men get so angry when rejected (because this is by no means the first time and probably won't be the last...and other times I've gotten a response like this, it's usually been from a guy on a dating website who I'd never even met!!!) and found these articles. They're all good. 

It's the pain of male entitlement and female autonomy disregarded simultaneously.  https://www.stuffmomnevertoldyou.com/blogs/why-men-cant-handle-romantic-rejection.htm

What’s inappropriate is hounding the other person, and dominating her personal space (virtual or IRL) to the point where she is forced to acknowledge you.   https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/dear-men-women-dont-owe-you-anything_us_55d24e00e4b07addcb43c3d4

You don’t always have to catch the ball when somebody throws it at you.    The more that you ignore your ex’s “baits”, the less he will try to start conflicts with you.   Some guys would point fingers when the relationship fails, and it is usually directed to you. If you are still suffering the dilemma of “Why do guys get mad when you reject them?” don’t forget to believe in yourself and your ex’s perception of you should not define you.   https://www.enkirelations.com/why-do-guys-get-mad-when-you-reject-them.html

https://www.bolde.com/ever-said-no-guy-cant-handle-rejection/

...comes from a place of feeling powerless that is said to imply the person with more power is being immature for exercising it. It implies that saying no, saying “this is not okay with me,” or setting up a boundary is childish. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Actually, asserting what you want or what you are comfortable with is actually very mature.   http://www.thefrisky.com/2013-06-18/girl-talk-it-says-a-lot-about-a-man-if-he-cant-handle-rejection/

So, yeah, that's it. That's my shameful, embarrassing, disgusting, story for the day. 

I'd like to say I'm done with men. I'm done dating. I'm never having sex again. 

I can't say any of those things. But I can say this: I am done with this man. I am never having consensual sex with him ever again. 

I may run into him at an AA meeting. He may try to embarrass me and shame me. He may tell lies or exaggerate the truth about me. He may try. But I know in my heart of hearts what is good and true. I know I am not perfect. I made a mistake. A huge, huge mistake. I have since rectified it and learned my lesson. I apologize to the AA gods. I truly do. It won't happen again. I am humbled. 

I can't control him or what he'll do. All I can control is my reaction and my reaction is to simply not engage, to just be me, to not allow someone to make me feel less than or unworthy or as if I don't belong in AA... And if those in AA choose to believe him, that's on them. If they don't know this Dave-ism, perhaps I should share it at the next meeting...

"What Jack says about Jane says more about Jack than it does about Jane."

Yep. 

I am not going to defend myself. I will own my mistake and I will make amends for it, but I will not debate my merits. Nor will I discuss him, his behavior, actions, words, his crime, his personal life, anything he has shared with me to anyone in AA. That isn't who I want to be. I don't like gossip, I don't like people talking about me, so I won't partake in it.  

I don't know how to end this post...probably because it's not done. It isn't finished. There will be more, you can be sure of that. But as of today, I'm in a good place. I'm alive and well. I have good friends and family. I have Garfield. I have a beautiful home. I am loved and I am loving.