update!

Well, ask the universe for something, and you get it, sometimes.

I am seeing someone and he, yes he, is pretty awesome. He's a cisgendered gay man. A bear, no less. And very tall! I feel like a relationship might be good for me. One of my triggers is loneliness.

I've been doing pretty well. My insurance runs out soon and I won't be able to afford therapy (but I hope to still be able to afford my antidepressants,) but I haven't been going regularly anyway. He doesn't challenge me enough. I have been drinking, but in moderation, and not often, aside from this weekend. I overdid it, it was Pride, and I don't regret it and I didn't do anything stupid and I didn't spend money, but I was hungover for the first time in a long time. I think that's enough to dissuade me from overdoing it again anytime soon. I really, really want to learn how to be able to drink socially. I thoroughly believe that while it'll be hard and a process, I can retrain myself. I think I have enough tools, at this point, and my coping skills are much better. And if I follow my rules, which I will because I really like rules, I think I'll be fine. No drinking to numb emotions. No drinking alone. No more than 3 drinks, except for on occasion. No drinking to escape anxiety.

I'm off the Campral, did I mention that? It started giving me intestinal problems and I was having cravings despite being on it, so I figured if I can save $60 a month, I might as well.

My mood has been good. I got over my most recent relationship. And then I just met this guy (actually, I've known him for a while and have had a crush on him for a while, too.) Work is going well, I am in the process of straightening out my school stuff so I can start again in the fall. My writing "career" is going well. I feel social and happy and I've been making new friends. Anxiety has been pretty ok, aside from waking up with heart palpitations the other day. That was the first time in a long time, though.

moving on

I am going to try my hand at dating again. Not drinking, at night, alone is really hard and I'm lonely and I think human touch would be therapeutic. I've also been having urges to hook up with people, and I don't want to do that because it isn't a healthy thing for me. I don't think I'll jump on the monogamy boat any time soon though. It just doesn't seem like a good idea at this time. I don't want to fall into another relationship too quickly and then have my heart broken, so I think I'll keep my heart out of things for the most part. I want pain and frustration free companionship... that's probably asking too much.

They always say in recovery groups, at least in the 12 Step model, that people trying to recover from addiction shouldn't get into relationships... but if it's more support, and if I am careful with my feelings, why would it be bad? I need all the support I can get. And I have needs, you know...

If it ends up being a bad idea, I'll end the experiment. And I'll be oh so honest with anybody I get involved with.

summer in the city

(I wrote this yesterday.)

Summer in Chicago is the best. I rode my bike downtown Monday evening to see Jonathan Richman at Millenniumm Park, and to meet one of my healthier Omaha friends and her boyfriend. I sort of fixed my brakes and I lubed up my chain so my bicycle ride was more pleasant than usual. I had a good time with them, they bought me a sandwich and we gossiped about our friends in common. I am super tired today because I drank a soda with caffeine in it last night at the concert, so I couldn't fall asleep even though I was pretty tired. No matter what I drink, I have problems!

Last Friday, I got a text from my boss that was supposed to be for her partner, saying that I smelled like beer. I don't know how I smelled like beer... I was wearing a jacket I recently got back from a friend. Maybe there was beer spilled on it? Who knows. She was really apologetic and stuff, and I totally understand her concern, but it kinda makes abstaining feel stupid, when I abstain. I have been drinking here and there, but not much, not frequently and I haven't been drinking alone. I think I am just going to go back to not drinking at all though, because yeah, I wish I could drink normally, but I can't, so even if I just have a beer, I'm obsessing about the way it makes me feel and stressing out about whether or not another one will send me over the edge. I've found this out: one or two drinks and I can stop. If I have a third, I can still stop but I'm itching to keep going. A fourth drink and I am fucked and will have two more. That's just too much to worry about. Just not drinking reduces my stress. And going out without drinking is fine, I get home at a decent hour because everybody starts to get drunk and sound stupid while they feel like they are getting smarter and smarter with each beverage, and I get annoyed and they smell bad, so I leave.

This weekend was hectic. I dogsat for a friend who lives way up off of Howard (the very north boundary of the City of Chicago) and I had odd jobs and two pieces due for the blog I'm writing for. I was running around a lot. Yesterday I ran around a lot too, running errands and then biking to and from downtown (15.2 miles round trip!) and today I expect to be pretty busy, as well. After work I'm meeting my ex somewhere in between our respective jobs to hang out and talk, and probably walk to the lake. After that I may or may not go to my roommate's presentation at DePaul for the Women's and Gender Studies program. The ex asked me if I was going, and I don't know if that was an invitation to go with her or just to see if I was going or not. I'll find out when I see her, if she doesn't cancel on me.

Tomorrow I am taking my first yoga class in about 22 years. I took it as a little kid, I think, either that or I just learned to balance my chakras. I am sort of excited and sort of full of dread.

anxious

A little more anxiety in my life right now than usual. The kid I take care of is sick and for some reason I am really worried - more so than I usually am when he gets sick. Maybe it's just because I was there when it came on, he woke up from his nap in a weird, lethargic, mood and he was very cuddly. His skin was really hot to the touch, I noticed, when I was holding him, so I got out the thermometer. It was 100, so I gave him Tylenol and over the hour, his fever continued to go up. And he didn't want any of his favorite food (macaroni and cheese) or a popsicle or to go to the park. His moms said he didn't even want to watch tv tonight. Poor kid. He's one of the few things in my life that truly makes me happy and seeing him not feel good makes my heart hurt.

Another stressor is I realized that I am going to be late with my rent. Actually, the last day I can pay it is the 5th, so I'll write them a check and I'll be able to get money in my account by the time it goes through, but that shit is nerve-racking and it makes me feel shady, like my parents. It makes me think of my mother teaching me to run a strong magnet over the magnetized part of the check, to demagnetize it so the check has to be processed by hand and it takes longer that way. I hate fucking around with money.

I am also nervous about seeing my most recent ex this coming Thursday. I had a bit of a tantrum over intention and what I felt was her lack of follow-through, so we are gonna get together to talk, but now I don't want to talk about it. It was shitty of me to say anything. She's gonna deal with things and act according to her nature, and I am not the police. I just need to accept that she doesn't care/show she cares about people/relationships the same way I do and I need to stop trying to impress my values onto other people. I just don't think straight when I feel like I've been slighted or abandoned. It's my issue, not hers. I don't need to involve her in my issues, just like I don't need to take her issues personally. I will hopefully say this to her Thursday, in person. I hate it when I get all righteous.

My reaction to anxiety is to crave alcohol. I won't drink, but I want to. I'll drink some calming tea. Watch tv. Prep myself for the tutoring session I am giving in the morning before work (at 7:30 am!!). (I love gmat test prep, unless it's for a math degree, the math is so easy.)

Priorities in check.

Gained weight.

summer

Man, I love summer. The kid and I went to the beach yesterday, and we're gonna go again today, and yesterday I met a friend for dinner and a movie and we ate outside and then killed time at the lake until the movie had to start. So nice. I need to figure something outside to do tonight... maybe I'll go for a jog and then hang out at the beach till the sun goes down and go night swimming.

Doing well with not drinking, still, but I had two glass of wine with dinner last night, and I know I'm playing with fire. Fuck this alcoholism shit. God, it's so hard to control. I can see how people see themselves as powerless over it. It's easier to say you're powerless than to muster up what little self control one has.

medication, change, sex, etc.

I think I need to try a different antidepressant or add something else to my regimen, or up my dosage, or something. There is no reason I should feel even a little bit suicidal. I shouldn't be hard on myself about that - I know a lot of it is unhealthy thinking, but the feelings are there and I shouldn't invalidate myself.

Our lease is up at the end of July. Sometimes I think a change of scenery would be really good for me, like a move to another state, but I have this love/hate relationship with Chicago and I haven't been here a decade yet (August of next year!) and I'd still be the same person, just me in a different location. Maybe being around different people would be good though? A whole new set of friends that I am not tempted to use with. Or I could go to Wyoming and live with my aunt, or to Iowa to stay with my dad, something. Somewhere where I am more or less forced to be healthy. But then, I'd be in the middle of nowhere, and as a transsexual, that kind of scares me.

I almost went out last night to this benefit for the Chicago Dyke March, but then I didn't. I had a headache and then I started getting anxious about being around alcohol even though I probably would have been fine. And it was nice having the apartment to myself. I did some cleaning yesterday so I was enjoying the space and I love being alone, so, yeah. There's that.

Going to the beach with my new friend tomorrow afternoon, with the baby. We're having a picnic. Looking forward to that, for sure! I actually don't know if the other night was a date or not, but I'm not going to worry about it. I need to keep my pants on. I think having a crush on somebody might help me get over my last relationship, but that's probably not the best idea. Though it would be nice to feel wanted. And human touch would be nice. But. I need to be focusing on loving myself instead of distracting myself.

So there's that.

date

I went on a date last night; it went well, I think. No funny business, I walked her home though. She lives less than a block from me, and I always see her around the neighborhood or at Target and stuff, so when she said something about being restless on FB last night, I asked her if she wanted to meet up. She was really excited about the idea. And she texted me and said she had a really good time, and hoped that I did, too. She wants to hang out again, soon. She's my age-ish, and in an open relationship with a main partner, so I think everything could be really casual, which is probably good. I told her about the alcoholism and stuff.

Dating might be a bad idea. I don't know. I don't know. I still really miss my ex.

Going down to the NATO protests tomorrow. Excited about that. Gonna get some good rest tonight.

selfish

I have this terrible feeling-producing thing that happens. I feel shitty when I want to save the world, because I feel like I'm projecting and I know I'm coming from the only true source I feel, which is my own self, and I feel shitty about wanting to save myself first - which would obviously save the entire human race. I know that I need to save myself first, otherwise I can't be healthy enough to save anything else. Right? That's what they (popular psychology) say and I really don't have a reason to disagree with them.

In short and maybe seemingly unrelated, I'm feeling suicidal. It happens all the time. It has happened, at its very lowest manifestation, six times a year. It's happened about every two weeks during the passed two years. And I drank tonight. I didn't tell anybody - it could be obvious to my roommates, though they aren't exactly privy to all the signs of my drunken behavior, unless I'm pretty drunk. It's fine. I wish I had somebody to talk to, maybe. Or just sit there and not talk about it.

Nothing is ok. It may never feel ok. I probably won;t ever feel "good." My goal is to live my life without taking it. That's kind of been my goal for the last 13 years. I wanted to die at 8. No joke.

tornado

Well, I went a little crazy on Monday/Tuesday. Fuck. I still have my job though.

Trying to wrangle my shit together. I can't exist in crisis mode, its terrible. I can't let stupid holidays bother me. It's just another day, the holiday is just to generate capital. I have to figure out how to stop mourning her. It's hard, because it's like she's dead, but she isn't, she's sitting somewhere in Colorado with my siblings. But nothing is going to change that. I gotta get over this. I need thicker skin. I really do.

God. Sometimes I wish I could be somebody else, or that the process of shedding old/bad/unhealthy habits didn't take so long and wasn't so hard. I mean, if I break it down, it isn't that hard - I have a tendency towards feeling sorry for myself, and it doesn't have to be this hard, I know. So much of it is attitude. I can't keep up healthy behaviors for very long. Why is that? Well, it's easier to be a fuck up. A lot easier.

I was doing so well a few weeks ago. What changed? I keep trying to pinpoint it. Something about my thinking changed before the night that my neighbor asked if she could bring wine around me, and I started craving alcohol again after that. But I refuse to believe that it's just the chemistry of a brain changed by years of alcoholism. It's gotta be something to do with my thinking, too. Well, I know that I stopped feeling good about myself again, I lost my sense of pride again, somehow. I stopped remembering to control my cyclical thinking, and somewhere my healthy coping skills just flew out the window. I must be more conscious of that! I've gotta really embrace living in the present and keep it up. It's a fucking catch 22, though. It's so easy to lose track of the now and slip into the past or project into the future. The past is what really gets me, though.

Starting over. Two days sober. After tonight, 3.

mother's day

I always get so bent out of shape on days that remind me of my mother, even though I tell myself that I won't make a big deal out of things this year. Everybody was busy yesterday, and I spent the day alone with my neck and back fucked up. So I bought a refurbished PS3 online. Looks like I'm gonna be playing a lot of Tony Hawk/The Sims/streaming Netflix.

Remember that self-control I was talking about? Ruined my run the other night. Texted my ex. Didn't hear back though, so there's that. Getting ignored is one of my biggest pet peeves, but it's probably for the best. I just wanted to put it out there, I guess. Better to try a little than not at all? I think I'm extra emotional right now because of hormones. I had terrible, horrible, no good, very bad cramps all weekend.

 Three things need to happen today/tonight: I need to finish my piece, I need to do my laundry, and I need to make plans to do something social tonight.

feeling good

It's in the 70's today and when the baby wakes up we're going to the beach or the bird sanctuary at Montrose Harbor.

I really want to get out of town and drive somewhere far away with the windows down. It's been a while since I got out of the city. Just for a day trip somewhere. Just so I can feel the warm wind in my hair, and get my left arm super tan and listen to road trip music and poke around somewhere that is new to me. I don't even care if I have a companion or where I end up. I could tent it or sleep in a crappy motel or sleep in the car. I don't care. I'm aching for a road trip. But I need to do things this weekend. I need to back up my hard drive and order a new hard drive and a new CMOS battery (let's hope the current one isn't soldered onto the motherboard - because I don't know where my soldering iron is) and I need to write a piece for the blog/salon that addresses recent homophobic comments made by the Huskers' assistant coach.

But what I really want to do is hike. And smoke joints and look at the stars. And fall asleep slightly scared of rustling leaves/fauna or the potential shoddy lock on the door of a shoddy hotel room somewhere off of I80. Actually, what I think I really want is to drive back to Nebraska for the weekend. That would be awesome. I'd probably go to Lincoln, not Omaha.

I'd like to take a second to pat myself on the back for employing self-control. Aside from the obvious, I also have refrained from initiating probably unwanted contact with my ex in the form whiny "I miss you" statements. Good job, Yoni.

33 days

I have to go to Omaha in June for a wedding. I might take my roommate/bff with me, so I have a sober buddy. It will be really hard not to drink in Omaha.

The cougar from the SMART meetings keeps posting on the Listserv about social things she's doing. Some of them sound pretty fun and I'm tempted to take her up on one of her offers. I don't think I'll be considered prey after I bring up the trans thing.

I need to keep busy at night, I've got to be engaged in things, because boredom is a tool of the devil. (I don't actually believe in the devil.) Also, because I get sad and lonely at night. Boredom+sad+lonely is not a good combination for an abstaining alcoholic. I've rented all the relatively decent movies from Redbox. Maybe there's some sort of volunteering thing I can do at night. Or maybe I should get another job. Or take a dance or boxing class. Start a book club that meets EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. I've been fantasizing about my ex and I getting back together. That'd be perfect. I'd be kept busy some nights of the week in the best way possible. I miss her.

:P

a month

I celebrated a month of sobriety on Sunday! 30 whole days!

My friends got into town Friday night and then we spent Saturday doing all kinds of things. We went to breakfast at my favorite diner, walked to the lake, walked to Andersonville, then we went down to Navy Pier to check out the Green Festival (but it was $12 to get in, so we just got coffee and then went to find a some decent french fries). After we got back north from Navy Pier, we rested for an hour at my house and then went to meet another friend for dinner, whom I haven't seen in ages, even though we live in the same city. I should hang out with her more. Anyway, then after dinner we went to a show at the Empty Bottle. We saw this band I like, Suckers, and it was a pretty good show aside from this really annoying drunk chick that kept dancing into my friend. I think I like going to shows sober better. I remember everything and don't spend as much money, and don't feel like shit the next day.

Last night I experimented, and I kind of feel bad about it, but it's done. I tried to drink a glass of wine after dinner. Shiraz, which used to be one of my favorite kinds of wine. I couldn't stand the taste of it. I thought maybe it had turned or something, but it smelled fine, and it didn't taste peppery or vinegary like turned wine, it just tasted strong... and kind of like the taste you get in your mouth if you drink orange juice right after brushing your teeth. Terrible. Makes me wonder if I ever really liked wine in the first place? How did I get started on it? Actually, I remember having to choke it down when I first started drinking it at my parents house in Dove Creek. I wasn't drinking it for the taste, I was drinking it for the desired effect. Stupid.

I'm not going to count last night's experiment as a relapse. I didn't get drunk. I didn't even finish my glass of wine. I wasn't experiencing any outlandish cravings after and I'm not having them today.

Anyway, that's that. Onward ho!

is 28 days a month?

Well, I'm at four weeks of sobriety today. Is that a month? I guess it would be if it were February. I think I'll save my big reflection piece a couple of days more.

27

I have two friends coming into town tomorrow night, old friends from Omaha. It's going to be weird hanging out with Omaha people without doing what we do best: drinking. Man. I'm wishing I could go out with them and drink some craft beers, the expensive ones that taste delicious and hoppy.

I didn't take any Campral yesterday. I wanted to see how I felt on my own. It was ok, but towards the end of the night when I was sad (I often get sad at night for some reason - I wake up happy and typically fall asleep sad). I kept thinking about how nice it would be to get drunk. So I went to bed after taking a dose of the Campral and an anxiety pill. I think I might have been a little extra sad because of the exchange my ex and I had. It was pleasant, no hard feelings, it just made me sad because I have to find closure and part of me doesn't want to. That's me clinging to hope, and it's just going to hold me back from growing the way I need to right now.

Throat hurts. I'm coming down with the cold the kid I watch has. Feeling cruddy. 

Three more days till I hit a month sober!

26/therapy today

Today in therapy I talked about the eating disorder that I recently wrote about for In Our Words. My therapist was talking about neurological effects of eating disorders, especially starvation, on the brain. Then posed the question of how much/what damage that did to my developing brain. The frontal lobe is just starting its growth toward becoming fully formed by 25. Hmm. Something to research. I wonder if the malnutrition is one of the reasons my head is so small, too. It's abnormally small.

He wondered aloud at the correlation between eating disorder and substance abuse further down the line. Anorexia is an addiction, it would make sense to have other addiction problems.

The conversation turned to the way my mother treated me during that time, and during the rest of my teenage years. She was controlling and manipulative, she wanted me to depend on her for all my emotional needs when clearly I was trying to differentiate myself from her, which is normal and healthy for a child to want (need) to do. By her not dealing with the eating disorder as an eating disorder, she was making me dependent on her by not getting me outside help. By allowing me to be sick and weak, I had nobody else to turn to but her for anything I needed for survival. She made me more isolated by taking me out of school. She didn't address the other mental health problems that I was having at that time either. I didn't mention this in the piece I wrote for the salon, but during that time I was also extremely agoraphobic, I wouldn't leave the house for weeks. And I was also extremely paranoid. I was terrified of spontaneous human combustion (that I would somehow burst into flames), and of falling into a parallel universe where I would never see my family again (ala this episode of the Twilight Zone I saw as a kid), and I was a hypochondriac. The reason I didn't want to leave my house was because if I died, I wanted to die at home. That is not the sort of shit a 14 year old should be thinking about. I was not being taken care of properly.

He told me today that he thinks I probably have PTSD from all of the things that happened. I've thought that for a long time. He also asked me how it is, dealing with my emotions, without using alcohol to numb myself. I told him that I feel like I am/my brain is waking up. It's an entirely different feeling. At first I felt like an exposed nerve, and very afraid to let myself feel a full range of emotion. But it's a lot better now, and I'm reveling in the intricacy of emotion. I feel alive. And happy to be so.

up/down

Since I quit drinking, I've been really moody. Happy one second, sad the next, and angry in between. Totally fine with everything that's happening/happened recently, resentful and rueful in the next moment.

Feeling pretty negative tonight. Sad. I went to a vigil for a transwoman that was murdered here in Chicago and that made me think about the acquaintance that killed herself last month and how both of those lives could have been spared if we were serving our community better, if we were taking care of our own. And it made me miss the people I love. Life is so fragile. People are gone, in a snap of your fingers, just like that, they can disappear. And they're gone forever. I'll never see my joyful acquaintance out and about at queer events, being her magical self. Paige Clay will never grace her friends with her beautiful smile again. 

We've got to take care of what we've got and who we love, because they could not be there the next day. Cherish your relationships, all of them. Don't fuck up love, and don't make it fucked up.. Don't push people away, even if you think it'll be easier than going through a rough patch with them. Compromise. Make things work. If something seems broken, try to fix it before giving up. Don't give up. Forgive even if you don't forget. I'm no Christian, but I understand forgiveness and how holding onto things holds us back. Even shit with my family... I forgave my mom a while ago. I'll never forget, but she's mentally ill, and even if she knew how she was hurting us, the fact that she didn't care is enough to illustrate how fucked up she is. By some weird logic, she is absolved in a way. 

I'll probably make this private in the morning, when I'm less moody and feeling dumb.

day 25/reflections

Here's the piece I wrote on anorexia. I feel embarrassed and very naked, but, I don't know, writing and sharing it also makes me feel validated. I'm saying that this happened to me; I'm admitting it as much to myself as I am to the world. Also, this is the first time I've ever really written to an audience (aside from this or my old livejournal days, or the occasional blog I intend to be for public consumption and then have to frantically try to remove all traces of it from the public because I can't not be so personal), so it's really interesting and awesome getting feedback on my writing. It makes me feel confident in myself, and I feel part of something bigger than myself when people can relate. I used to long for the feeling of being a part of something bigger than me.

I wrote in my paper journal this morning that not drinking has become a part of my life, but I still don't feel like it's part of me, yet. I'm still hanging on to that thread of hope that I can one day drink like a normal person. Last night my roommate asked if our neighbor and bff could come over with a bottle of wine, and I had to say no, because I love wine, and I really wanted some the second the form of a wine bottle entered my thoughts. I salivated. And I thought about the ritual that I participated in 4-7 nights a week for 12 years, the process of feeling my feelings and anxiety slowly fade away into the background of drunkenness. I learned how to drink just enough that I was happy and sleepy. I've never been a binge drinker in the sense that I did crazy things (except for in my late teens and early 20s,) or vomited or anything. I just kept myself comfortably numb.

Thich Nhat Hanh says something about hope that's made me think a lot recently: "When I think deeply about the nature of hope, I see something tragic. Since we cling to our hope in the future, we do not focus our energies and capabilities on the present moment... Hope becomes a kind of obstacle. If you can refrain from hoping, you can bring yourself entirely into the present moment and discover the joy that is already here." I think this is an amazing observation. And it reminds me about my expectations (which are related to my perfectionism) and how I want to live a life without expectations, how I just want to be able to accept things the way they are, at the time they are. This time in my life is about learning to live in the present. I've lived in the past, and I obsess about the future and what it will bring and what I hope it will and will not bring, in a silly attempt to exert control over outcomes. But that's not possible. I especially want to learn not to place expectations on other people, especially when my expectations aren't in tune with what they are capable of or who they are. If I love somebody, I want to accept them unconditionally, unless they really threaten my well-being.
And I can't hope that one day I'll be able to drink like a normal person. That's already setting myself up for failure because it places a future expectation on myself, and if I love myself, I want to accept myself unconditionally, unless I am really threatening my own well-being. I have to accept myself in the now, and only in the now, because the future me with my future abilities doesn't exist yet. As of now, I cannot drink like a normal person, no matter how deceptively my brain urges me to believe I can. Not right now. Not in the present.

I've been thinking about my last relationship, and the one before it. And yeah, there were some things that weren't my fault in them, things I couldn't control, but I've been so unfair to people, and I've been equally unfair to myself. That is not how people love each other. I should have relished their individuality and been more conscious of why I loved them in the first place. I wrote my most recent ex last night, thanking them for being them, essentially. Because they made me see so much beauty in the world that I had forgotten about. I got so upset about them not returning texts fast enough or paying enough attention to me when I should have trusted that they were out doing amazing things and trying to make the world a better place for everybody, myself included. And I let myself get caught up in the anxiety I was creating within myself by feeding my own insecurities healthy chunks of meat instead of remembering how seeing them erased all those feelings of insecurity and fear. To quote Dune: "Fear is the mind-killer."

I fool myself into thinking that I am incredibly self-aware, and then I realize that I've been wrong about myself all along. I guess that's part of growing and rebuilding myself. This is the biggest personal endeavor I have ever taken on, rebuilding myself. I have to go back to where I started while trying to to hold onto things I learned along the way. Because I did grow during the time I was drinking, a lot, but now I have an opportunity to thrive.
Anyway. Now to quote Gummo: "Life is beautiful. Without it, we'd be dead."

23 days

Twenty-three is my favorite number! Seven more days and I'll have been sober a month. I can't believe it, this is such a big deal.

Today was good. Only a few slight cravings for a cigarette, which I denied myself. Actually, I don't know if it was for a cigarette... it was a vague desire for something more than I have... if that makes sense. Maybe it was for alcohol. I don't know.

I went to lunch with a friend and then she dropped me off to go meet my ex. I gave them their clothes back and got my clothes back and it was nice to see them (my ex partner, not the clothes, though I am happy to have my favorite sweater back). The chemical reaction is still there; I felt a rush of what I can only assume was dopamine. My head was swimming and I didn't get to say what I wanted to say because I forgot I wanted to say it. The whole point of meeting up with them was to talk to them... gah.

My two very, very personal pieces are going to go up on the blog tomorrow. I also am going to check out a new psychiatrist tomorrow.  He's within walking distance, that's a plus.

Anyway. I feel good. And sleepy.

22/uh oh

Red flag at the SMART Recovery meeting today.

So, I get there a few minutes late, and I see this woman that I hadn't seen before sitting at the table. I immediately thought "Wow. Something about her really reminds me of an older version of The Ex I Shouldn't Talk To for some reason" before she even opened her mouth. Then she opened her mouth. Things that came out of it: "I only had two glasses of wine" (she's still using), "I didn't go manhunting this week" (she's hypersexual), and "Twenty-five year old guys are hot." (she likes younger men). Thanks, Universe. Scary. She's just the sort of hot mess that I would have gone for, before. Well, at least a few years ago. Enabling and whatnot. And older. And probably with some money to spend.

Anyway. Aside from that, the meeting was great. We talked more about goals, and things that we do in our lives that clue us in to the fact that we are on the right track. My healthy behaviors are keeping my space clean, eating right (sometimes if I'm eating at all, that's good enough), staying active, and not isolating. God, I love to isolate myself. I think it might have a lot to do with the fact that I grew up in a very isolated environment. Our family was "different" so we didn't have a lot of family friends to interact with, and we were often hundreds or thousands of miles away from relatives. And because of all the moving, it was hard for me to make friends. And I was a natural loner/introvert.

Babysitting tonight, fun! I finished both of my pieces last night, but I don't know about the masturbation one... I realized last night that I have no idea what I'm talking about aside from what I do. The eating disorder piece came out really good, I got compliments on it from the friend I sent it to for editing purposes.

Homework this week from the meeting: try to smile more (smiling isn't a problem for me) and eat healthier. That last one is a big deal. I have been eating like crap lately. Junk food. Saturated fats. And I have been drinking way too much Ensure instead of eating food like a regular person. Speaking of, I'm hungry. I better eat something before the feeling goes away.

I'm thinking about posting the eating disorder piece on here... it has to do with recovery of a sort. Maybe I'll just link to it when it goes up on the blog.

21 days

Three weeks sober!

Not much to report... I finished the first draft of one of the pieces I'm writing for the blog I write for. I'm doing two: One about anorexia (and my experience with it) and one about masturbation. Ha. Evidently I'm in full-on body-obsessing mode. I've been working through a lot of memories since I quit drinking. Things keep cropping up that I'd previously forgotten.

I don't feel very good tonight. I'm kind of dizzy and queasy. I'm not sure if its psychosomatic, because I just wrote a kind of triggering personal essay about having an eating disorder and shitty memories, or if I'm getting sick, or what. I ate enough today. Maybe I've been looking at the computer screen for too long.

I decided not to write the piece on drinking and/in the queer community quite yet. I want to be on more solid ground with being sober, I need more time. I don't feel like it's my place, yet, to criticize the queer community on its promotion of alcohol, based on a mere 3 weeks sober. Plus, shit, what if I relapse? Then I'll just be a hypocrite.

One more week makes a month without a drink. I can't believe how fast time has gone!

20

20 days sober! Two weeks out of the hospital sober, tomorrow. Fucking A, I am proud of myself. It was easy not to drink when I was in the hospital, because there was no option. I was so scared about getting out of detox, knowing I'd have to return to the real world where alcohol is everywhere. Until I quit drinking, I never noticed how alcohol is on every tv show, on huge billboards on the street, in movies, on bus ads - it's fucking everywhere. I was almost jealous of the other addicts I was with, because meth isn't advertised on the street, and you don't see heroin glamorized in tv shows.

I have social things planned this weekend! That's exciting. I need to get a run/work out in this weekend and I think I need somebody to do it with, to motivate me. I've been feeling preeeetttty lazy. I at least need to lift weights. My muscles are gone. :(

I smoked weed last night. It made me want to smoke a cigarette after, which I denied myself. For a second I wanted a beer to go with it, but that was an easy desire to squelch, as well. I'm going to get really good at denying myself stuff, after all this.

Also, I've been thinking a lot about fear and how debilitating it is. It's what's keeping me being happy... and from feeling better about my life of sobriety. It's scary to have to go through life fully experiencing everything. How will I ever date again without alcohol? I don't know how to meet people or get the nerve up to talk to people or the nerve up to make a move without being tipsy. Liquid courage. I'm probably going to be single for a really long time. Maybe it'll be good for me. Give my heart a break instead of getting a broken heart. Self-love. That shit is hard.

smoking

Also, I have not had a cigarette in days and days. I don't even know how many. No cravings. Thanks, Wellbutrin. Thanks, modern medicine.

Day 19

I'm getting closer and closer to a whole month of sobriety! Yeah!

I just got back from therapy. My therapist is great. We talked a lot about interrupting the trigger/thought/emotional response=action process, so that my action is focusing on my breathing (and not wanting to drink), eventually this should happen automatically. It takes 17 consecutively repeated actions to make something a habit, so maybe this won't take that long. He said he totally respects my decision that IOP is not for me and said he thinks it's great that I know myself and am listening to myself.

We also talked about self-love and self-soothing, since these are things that I have forgotten how to do. I'm actually not sure that I ever learned how to self-soothe. He gave me a book by one of my favorite Buddhist monks, Thich Nhat Hanh, called Peace is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life. It focuses a lot on self-soothing behavior and talk. I'll start it today while the kid is napping.

I also need to start working on the piece I pitched to one of my editors at the blog I write for about drinking in the queer community. I haven't even started it and it's due Sunday. I honestly don't know where to begin. I don't want to come off as annoying, all "hey guys!! I just quit drinking and now I'm judging and 'shoulding' you! Don't drink! Alcohol is bad!" because that's not where I'm really coming from. I realize not everybody is an alcoholic in the queer community, but I wish there were more social alternatives to the bar/party scene. Why don't we have more bowling leagues? Does anybody want to learn to play tennis? Maybe we could start a book and tea club that meets in the evenings. I miss going out. I miss having things to do at night - even though I often chose to stay in alone and drink by myself.

Since getting out of detox and stopping drinking, I've lost weight, which I didn't think would happen because I've been eating more than I used to when I was drinking. I have to pay attention to not letting myself get too skinny, because then I start obsessing over my body and trying to get skinnier. It's really unhealthy and I don't realize I'm doing it until I've been doing it for a while. So I have to be conscious but not too conscious. It's a fine line. Gah... so many fucking issues, I have. Luckily I still have my belly. I don't think that's gonna go away any time soon.

Well, it's cloudy and it's supposed to rain all day. But I slept well last night, and I had good dreams, and therapy was very productive, and I'm in a pretty good mood and looking forward to hanging out with the kiddo. He has a new bicycle and a new lawnmower that I think we'll take outside today if it isn't raining. Or we can take a walk in the rain because he loves wearing his raincoat and carrying his "yella" (umbrella).

I guess my pattern with this blog is a morning update and an evening update (more often than not). I think all the writing is good for me and for helping me to process my emotions. I write a lot anyway, because it's always helpful to see a struggle on paper (or just in text, I guess), it helps me put things into perspective.

Day 18

I emailed my therapist this morning about outpatient and how I don't wish to return to the program. Haven't heard back from him yet - I'm not sure if I'm going tonight or not.

I don't like the words "recovery," "remission," "user/using," or "addict." I don't like them referring to me, especially. I know I'm an addict and that I'm an alcoholic, but I am so much more than those words. I'm a gentle person, I'm sensitive, and yeah, I happened to drink away my 20's... but those words are so defining of something that is separate from who I am. I'm not my problem. Those words are like slaps to the face.

Today I was thinking about a life without drinking. For the rest of my life. That seems daunting, impossible even.  The rest of my life? I'll never be able to drink "normally" or in a socially acceptable manner? Probably not. When I think of drinking, I think of doing something to change my life for a short time, to change my outlook. If I drink, I want to get drunk. It's been that way my entire drinking career. And I have an emotional response to never drinking again, it makes me sad. And it makes me feel sorry for myself.

It's becoming clearer to me that I will probably never be able to drink again, if I want a life. Reality is setting in. I took this upon myself because it was just too hard to live that way, and it made me hate myself, and I don't deserve to be treated like that by anyone, including myself. And I can certainly have fun without drinking, and my life will probably be more fulfilling, rewarding, and I'll probably get further in it as a sober person, but man, I sure did love getting fucked up. It gave me an excuse to skirt responsibilities and to never grow up. I extended my adolescence well into adulthood. I wish I could get fucked up a few times a year, but I think I'd have a hard time stopping after one good drunk. And I'm not interested in just having a couple drinks, which I know is indicative of my problem.

God. Lifestyle changes are hard. I know I am going to have to make a lot more changes, still. A new apartment will be good for me, I can't wait to move. Making more friends that don't drink is another step in the right direction. Figuring out my triggers and what set me off to begin with (I am pretty sure I know that one) are important steps to take. It's funny, I don't have a commitment problem in any other areas of my life, but I am scared shitless of committing to sobriety, even though I know I'll be much happier. Why wouldn't I want to be happier?

Feeling a little defeated today. It'll pass.

Day 17/ fuck outpatient tonight

I am not going to outpatient tonight. I am getting nothing from it. I'll go tomorrow, I think, but tonight I want to do some thinking. I disagree with the 12 Step model on a very basic level, and my therapist and others have said that sometimes you have to make up different rules for the ones you don't agree with, but then that's not really "working the program", is it? I can sit and listen to other addicts' stories until the Earth stops spinning, but I've already taken what I can from those stories: I don't want to drink anymore. And I'm sorry, maybe I am full of myself, but the other people seem more like sheep than anything else. Nobody is self-aware, nobody questions anything the people in charge say, they just follow along and believe without assessing what they are believing in. I think I can do this with SMART meetings and with my private counselor, who is a specialist in substance abuse. He probably won't be too happy with my decision to quit, if I decide I want to quit for good. But it is my choice in the end. I'm a grown man.

In a great mood today, despite being exhausted. Made a new friend on OK Cupid and we've been talking via FB all day. She likes space a lot, too. And makes cool paintings of it. I'm going to see if she wants to hang out some time.

So, after doing some research, I think I might have given myself Serotonin Syndrome last night. It's just an excess of serotonin that can be caused by taking too many serotonin boosting medications, which would make sense. The Trazodone might have pushed me over the edge, and the NyQuil cap contained both an antihistamine that is also a hypnotic and alcohol, which is also classified as a hypnotic. So is Trazodone. So, I think the combination of too much serotonin and the many forms of hypnotics in my bloodstream gave me the hallucinations. I am still, of course, going to talk to my psychiatrist about it.

So, so, so tired. It'll be an early bedtime for me. Also, I think being tired affects my anxiety levels, because it took all I had in me today not to text my ex in a fit of anxiety to tell them how much I missed them.

Day 17/night hallucinations

My roommate and I went to see one of our friends' Flamenco show last night. It was amazing. So beautiful. I forgot that there are so many alternatives to going out to bars and drinking beer. Things that will culturally enrich my life are better for me!

I'm so tired today. I went to bed around 11:30 pm but I still wasn't asleep by 1 am, so I took half of a Trazodone that's prescribed to me for sleep. I still couldn't fall asleep though, because my allergies have had my sinuses all swollen, so I couldn't breathe and I hate sleeping with my mouth open. So I took half a dose of night time cold medicine that has an antihistamine and I took an ibuprofen, both of which are anti-inflammatory agents. Well, I fell asleep finally, but I woke up around 3:30 hallucinating. It was scary as shit. I thought maybe I had a fever, because it was the sort of stuff I see when I have a high fever (that's the only time I've ever hallucinated, is when I've got a high temp - I've never even hallucinated on acid), but my body temperature was oddly low, it was 97.1 F. It's usually around 97.9 (I've never been one of those 98.6 sorts of people). I saw, sitting at my desk, a hunched over shriveled sort of figure with dreadlocks, and when I sat up to get out of bed, I saw this black cat/bat-like creature trying to get up into my lap. Fuck. I guess the combination of all the drugs I'm taking, plus the half-dose of Nyquil fucked me up, and not in a good way. Campral, Wellbutrin, Trazodone, Nyquil. 

Remember that cocktail, kids, if you want to avoid waking up scared shitless of things that aren't really there. Who knows what all those things combined did to my brain chemistry. I know Campral works on the frontal lobe and helps the brain accept seretonin and dopamine, and Trazodone increases seretonin intake too. Wellbutrin causes the brain to intake more dopamine and is also known to lower the seizure  threshold. I wonder if those things, along with the Nyquil gave me a seizure? Seizures (of the non gran mal type) often cause hallucinations. I'm going to bring this up to my psychiatrist. It was really fucking scary. I was also really out of it, like I was awake and dreaming at the same time... I was under the impression until I got up and moved around, that I was in my mother's house and all I had to do was tell her I was seeing things and all would be fine. It took me a second to remember that I'm an adult and I live in my own home, let alone, that I haven't seen her in years and years (except for in my dreams, like, all the time lately).

Anyway. Aside from being exhausted, today has been fine. I don't want to go to outpatient tonight. I really don't want to go. I'll go though. But first I am going to try and take a nap.

epiphany

Wow. So, going to church really made me feel good. Not because I was worshiping God, not because I was in the presence of a lot of peaceful people, but because it took me back to a time when I felt pure. I realized that I haven't felt that way since I was a teenager, since before I took the drinking too far, since before I became a jaded adult. It was also nice because it was so familiar. Unity hasn't changed in the 13 years since I've been to church. My theological concepts have changed since I was 18, but it was a nice vacation back to that time, even so.

I miss that feeling. I miss feeling balanced and Good. I knew my life was fucked up because of family stuff, but I knew at the same time that I was Good, even if they weren't. I knew that I didn't deserve the life I had and that my soul was untarnished. I don't feel like that anymore. I feel bruised and I think I've let my wounds go untreated for too long. I want that good feeling back. I used to love myself. I used to know I was worth being loved by others. What the fuck happened to me?

This is so much more than just having a problem with alcohol, I know that. I've never really healed. I've talked about things until I'm blue in the face, but that doesn't mean I'm better, it just means I'm conscious of the fact that I'm not healthy. The root of the problem is that I've forgotten how to love myself. I left an abusive situation and instead of getting better, I began to abuse myself. I internalized all the things my mother told me about myself, that I'm an ingrate, that I can't be trusted, that I had evil in me, that all I care about is myself (which is actually healthy) and took it upon myself to make sure I got the punishment I deserved. Part of it is numbing myself to try and forget my prior life, and part of it is numbing myself so that the blows I was taking from myself couldn't be felt.

Well. Anyway. Where to go from here? I want more of that feeling, it's better than any chemical out there. What I'm going to do is examine my life and see what needs to change and rededicate myself to finding balance and putting good, positive energy out in to the world. That might be even harder than not drinking, because I have so much negativity that I've had for so long pent up in me to expel. The first step is finding a way to believe that I'm still Good. I haven't really changed that much since I was young, I've just maladjusted to life after abuse. I think I'm still Good, I just have to get the thought to make the feelings. Thinking only does so much; I think for change to happen, it's gotta be truly felt.

So... this is my hippy dippy post after church. Whatever, whatever it takes to find myself again. I deserve to be happy.

Church on day 16

For as much hemming and hawing I've been doing about spirituality, isn't it funny that I'm going to church today? I'm going to Unity with my best friend... I used to go there when I was a teenager and for a short time with my parents as a kid. But anyway, my beef with AA isn't so much about spirituality as it is about personal responsibility.

Dressed in my Sunday Finest:

Day 15

Not a bad day. I won $50 on a scratch off ticket I bought impulsively at the grocery store! I have good luck when I go with my gut. Earlier I was a little melancholy for a bit, when I realized that today would have been a 5 month anniversary, but trying to remember that things happen for a reason. I keep telling myself to move on. It's pointless to pine, and it just causes me unneeded stress and anxiety. At least I'm getting better at redirecting my thoughts! I guess it's good practice?

After I was able to shake that feeling, I felt better. I went and returned the movie I rented last night and got two more. The Craigslist Killer sucks, by the way. Now I'm watching Anonymous, which is about the theory that the Earl of Oxford actually wrote all of Shakespeare's plays. Good so far. I love historical stories about English royalty.

Kind of wanted to use again tonight, even though I didn't really want to ingest alcohol (it sounds pretty gross, actually), I just want to experiment. But that would be a bad experiment. I don't need to try drinking "just to see what happens." That's just about the dumbest excuse I've ever thought of to drink. Especially now, at this point.

Going to bed early tonight so I can get up early and run, before dawn, with hope that I can catch a few of the shooting stars of the Lyrid meteor shower. I'll probably go bed after that, and then get up and go to church with with one of my friends. Just to see what it's like. It's been a long time. And it's a church that I've been a member of, so I think there might be some comfort, even if I don't agree with the ideology.

I am using Ok Cupid to make new friends with people that aren't drinking buddies and don't want to sleep with me. I am hanging out with this couple that just moved here, soon. We haven't set up a date yet, but that will be cool! Maybe it's silly, but I'm proud of myself for trying to make new friends

Overall, I say my 15th sober day was a success. I'm glad I went to the SMART meeting, I'm glad I'm getting better at redirecting distressing thoughts instead of turning to a substance to distract me, and I'm excited about my run in the morning - I have something to look forward to tomorrow.

What can day 16 have in store for me? I hope only good things. This is actually getting easier day by day, despite any desires to use. I'm feeling good, clear-headed, happy overall, and confident in myself and my abilities.  I can totally do this. I'm believing it more every day, I don't think I'm faking it anymore, I think I'm making it.

SMART Recovery

The SMART Recovery meeting was awesome. I didn't have to hold anybody's hand or say the Lord's Prayer, or argue about my beliefs with anybody.

The goals are realistic and matter of fact, and I gained more tools from that one meeting than I've gained at ten AA meetings. Tell me how to retrain my brain and I'll do it. Tell me to give my will over to some nebulous idea? Scary. I'll definitely be back next Saturday and I'll probably attend the Friday meeting in Lakeview as well.

Funny: the facilitator is this guy that's looked at dating profile a few times. Hahahaa. I changed my status on that thing to single but only looking for friends and activity partners. As lonely as I am, I know not to start up a new relationship right now in the midst of recovery. Every time I go through a not-dating spell, I also learn a lot about myself, even though I am usually drinking more. I can't begin to imagine how much I'll learn about myself sober. And anyway, most of my loneliness is derived from the grieving process related to the end of something I really wanted to work. I need to be more exact in identifying those feelings. Am I really that lonely? Maybe not. (Although today I really would like something/someone to do something with...)

Back to feeling hopeful.

Two Week Conclusion

I'm not sure if this I should post this here or keep it to myself in my private journal, so if this disappears or gets heavily edited, it's because I've changed my mind about saying some things publicly.

Tonight, I really, really, really wanted to drink. Or smoke weed. But I didn't. I coped with my stress by paying attention to my breathing (one of the things this awesome counselor in the hospital told us was that when a person breathes shallowly all the time, their brain isn't getting enough oxygen and can't function right - whether this is factual, I don't know, but it sounds good to me) and I stopped thinking about my crappy day and my mood and thought about more positive things.

My roommate and I walked to the supermarket and got a movie from Redbox, snacks, and I got a 2 liter of Mountain Dew, because I've been drinking it like mad since I quit drinking alcohol. The caffeine doesn't even affect me anymore, and I used to not be able to have caffeine after a certain time, or I wouldn't be able to sleep. I thought about getting some non-alcoholic beer, but decided not to try and tread those waters... a) that stuff tastes like shit, and b) it might make me want real alcohol.

Tomorrow is a new day, and I think I'm making good choices. I don't feel as alone as I did earlier and I'm looking forward to dreaming. I've been having really interesting dreams lately. I've been dreaming about my genetic family a lot, and I watched Melencholia the other night, so last night's dream featured a huge planet looming on the horizon, but in my dream it turned into a spaceship that looked like a planet. I got to fly in that dream, and of course there was train-time in it. (I don't know why I always dream about trains. Almost always. It's so weird.) The dream turned out not-so-good though, because the aliens fooled us (my family) into thinking they were good but they just wanted to use us. To get away from them my dad got us tickets to some country in South America (for $150 each!), and when I woke up this morning, I was really confused about whether or not I was going to South America, and wouldn't all my friends be jealous of my travels? Ha. Actually, the flying part of the dream was before we were leaving for South America, and I was astral projecting in my dream (meaning I dreamed I was astral projecting, not that I was really astral projecting) and I was flying over these gorgeous green hills, almost mountains, with lush trees and beautiful birds and it was wonderful. From afar, it looked like mossy rocks, but when I flew closer I could see the foliage. I want to have more dreams like that.

Anyway, tomorrow I'm going to the SMART Recovery meeting at 9:15 am, then I might go to this rally thing with my roommate. I want to check out an Agnostic AA meeting, too. But I don't think the AA model is going to work for me based on my personal belief system. The other night in group, I felt like some of the group members and one of the counselors were trying to sell God to me. It felt manipulative. I said that I wanted to be responsible for my actions, and the counselor relayed this little adage they use in AA to me: Say you're digging a hole. You keep digging, and digging, and digging, and finally you get so deep that you can't get out of it. And then you have to ask somebody for help, to get you out. That person is supposed to be the Higher Power.

Do you want to know what I say to that? If I've dug a hole so deep that I can't climb out of it, knowing that there's a good chance that nobody is around to help, or I am out of their hearing range, I look around and see that I still have the tool that I dug myself down there with: the shovel. It's going to take a lot of work, but with that shovel I can create notches in the walls to climb out of the hole with. And if the Higher Power is even paying attention to tiny me, maybe it'd be proud of me for getting myself out of the jam. They argued with me last night that it's all about having faith. I have faith. I have faith that there's something bigger than me, that can't be denied. The universe is a powerful force that we don't understand... I have faith in that. I also have faith in myself. And I have faith that things always turn out just the way they should in this universe (the multiple universe theory is for another time).

It's 1 a.m. I haven't stayed up this late in weeks. I am exhausted and I can't wait to curl up with my pillow and heating pad (it's almost like cuddling with a person!) and hopefully have more cool dreams.

ha

In other alcohol related news, Conor Oberst is opening a bar in Omaha. Of course.

two weeks

Two weeks without a drink. May not seem like much, but it's a huge milestone for me. Like I keep saying, this is the longest I've gone w/o drinking (and I usually drank to get drunk) in 12 years. I should be happier for myself, prouder. I am, I mean, wow - I have been looking forward to having the strength to come even this far for the last 8 years of knowing my drinking was getting worse and worse. Instead, everything is making me cry this morning. I guess that comes with the territory of feeling feelings. Reading about parents accepting their lgbtq kids, a cute picture of the baby I watch, seeing something that triggered regret and nostalgia in my closet as I was picking out a shirt to wear, the fact that I haven't been able to shower for three days in a row because our building's hot water is off. I kind of miss being numb. But, good job, Jonah. Gold star. How does one celebrate a milestone without drinking? I wouldn't mind an ice cream cake, I guess. There's a Baskin Robins/Dunkin Donuts right down the street from me. I guess a pity party isn't the right way to celebrate such an event. (edit: I realized that I need to do my shot today, so I hope part of my slump is hormornal.)

Aside from crying jags this morning, I'm liking my new sober routine ok. Get up, start the coffee, eat something, take meds, drink the coffee and read the news, then work, then chilling out at home, or going to outpatient. It's uneventful, and I'd like to be more social because it's lonely, but it isn't the worst.

I need something to do this weekend though. Some sort of stimulation. I'm going a little crazy. Maybe I'll get a model car or airplane at Hobby Lobby, if I can't find something to do... An ex that I Shouldn't Talk To offered to drive me there the other day. Or I'll go see Hunger Games by myself, or Cabin in the Woods with a friend, if he isn't busy.

Two weeks sober.

argh

I left IOP agitated and cranky. I probably didn't need that last cup of coffee, but it was there, and Wellbutrin leaves a bad taste in my mouth, so I drank it anyway.

I still hate it. And sitting there, talking about using drugs and alcohol, is fucking triggering. Listening to people talk about their former lives definitely reinforces the fact that I no longer want to drink, but it also makes me wanna stop at the liquor store on the way home and grab a bottle of wine. Yo, alcoholics are depressing. And I feel out of place.

I am going to take one of those anxiety pills and watch tv and chill the fuck out. 12 step pisses me off. I'm checking out the SMART program this weekend, and some Atheist/Agnostic AA groups, too.

A Whiny (but not winey!) Day 13

Here I am. Another day. One of my friends emailed me last night, saying my "fierce honesty fills her with love and gratitude." That made me feel really good when I was feeling really down. Thank you. Here is some more honesty:

The loneliness is terrible. I need to seek out some friends that don't drink because the my friends (that I love very much and are family to me) are social creatures, and socializing in the queer community means drinking. I want to be social, I want to be around people that aren't at an AA meeting or outpatient group. I want to have a picnic or go to the movies, I want to hang out with more than one person at a time, and do something besides watch a movie or talk - I'm sick of talking. If you've ever played The Sims, you know that you have to give your Sim enough social interaction in order for it to thrive. Well, I am a sad Sim right now. I don't know how to deal with feeling abandoned without drinking. And I want to go dancing! But I'm not sure if I'm ready to be surrounded by alcohol or people drinking yet.

I also want comfort. I want human touch. The baby I watch is a wonderful little spirit, and I get so much love from him, but I want grown-up love too. I just feel very alone (if you haven't gathered that from this post yet). Last night I almost said yes to this Ok Cupid date, that probably would have ended in casual sex, and would have left me feeling like shit, but at least somebody would have been touching me. I didn't go though. I used to do that when I was younger - hook up with people that I didn't know, putting myself in dangerous situations. Giving myself too freely to people that didn't even know or care what kind of person I am, just letting my body be used to fulfill some twisted idea of comfort. Goddammit. This is where loving myself comes in, and where I learn all those self-soothing skills that I didn't learn as a kid/teen/young adult. All I know how to do is take hot showers when I'm anxious, and I can't do that right now because the hot water in my building is shut off.

Sorry for this mopey post. I'm sure there will be others, because this is hard, and I'm learning all new coping skills. And damn right, this is a lonely process. And I feel gutted.

I didn't go to outpatient last night because I told them that I wouldn't be there on Wednesdays or Fridays. I watched a movie I'd rented from Netflix, ordered myself a pizza and got drowsy on the couch. Falling asleep naturally is pretty nice. I am not even smoking weed right now, because I get drug tested at outpatient, and the only other times I used to fall asleep naturally were when I was staying with a person I was seeing. I always tried to keep my using out of my relationships. My most recent partner didn't have any idea how bad it was until I told them, because when I'm out, I don't drink much. And I don't make a fool of myself when I am drunk. I'm a very calm and rather collected drunk - quiet, even.

Fuck, man, it'd be nice to have the added comfort of a romantic relationship - just that extra security and safe feeling. You know? Someday. I think something I need to learn in this life is patience. I have patience, but only a certain kind. People always think I'm really patient until they get to know me. I'm an addict; I want instant gratification. I know that isn't realistic, and I think that I fuck a lot of relationships up by not having enough patience. So, I guess in retrospect, I didn't keep my alcoholism out of my relationships at all. I should probably just be alone, anyway.

I missed a dose of the Campral yesterday and didn't feel any cravings. That's pretty cool. Maybe by the time my insurance runs out, I won't need it as much. I think I need a higher dose of Wellbutrin, but I'll give it another week before I ask for it. I'm getting a new psychiatrist soon, anyway. I don't like the guy I'm seeing.

Oh! Something else that makes me feel good! One of my bosses, the one that's in academia and has never been affectionate with me, upon seeing me she RAN over and hugged the hell out of me! That was really nice. And she's helping me try to find more LGBTQ/less Christian friendly groups.

Ok. Trying to be in a better mood. I'm grateful for the people that are reaching out to me. I'm grateful for all the people rooting for me. I'm grateful for the out-pour of love I've gotten, in person and online. I'm grateful for my roommates being supportive and not having alcohol in the house, and for their love. I'm grateful for my job, and my family, and the people that are willing to call me out on my shit. I'm grateful that I started this process, because in the end, even if it is hard now and it hurts a little, I will be a better person and I'll like myself a lot more. I'm grateful that I've decided to say "fuck you" to accounting and return to psychology, when I can, if I haven't forever fucked up my financial aid at NEIU. I'm grateful for my health and the person I've turned out to be, despite trauma. I think being a good person is a choice, and I could have chosen to be a real asshole. I'm grateful that I believe I'm a good person.

Day 12

Yesterday was better than today. I woke up in poor spirits feeling defeated and sad about the fact that I can't drink the defeated and sad away. I feel like I'm going through two break-ups at the same time. At least the human relationship that ended is rational. The alcoholism is not. It's cunning, and this morning as I was taking my meds, I thought, "You know, I bet I could go out and just have a couple of drinks. I don't need to get drunk." And I wouldn't get drunk, it would probably be fine, but eventually it'd lead to me sitting on my couch alone, watching tv and getting drunker and lonelier.

I hated the first outpatient meeting last night. I had to sign a contract saying I will admit my powerlessness over alcohol and give my will over to a higher power. No matter how many people explain it to me in an atheistic or agnostic manner, I still don't get it. And I believe in some sort of higher power, too. But I don't think I or it wants me to give up my will to it. If it has feelings or opinions at all, it probably wants us to own our shit.

I own my shit, that's the thing. Some people are workaholics so they don't have to deal with their thoughts, or feelings, or their past, or the present. Some people use drugs to escape. Some people restrict themselves in some manner, to feel control. Some people escape into video games, or the internet, or something else less tangible than life. Some people are addicted to exercise (I could easily get myself addicted to running, if I wanted to replace one addiction with another) as another means of controlling something that feels out of control, some people spread themselves so thinly so that nobody can get too close to them. I drink. I drink for all those reasons that other people do things for. I drink so that I don't have to deal with my past, or the present, or my feelings, or my thoughts. I escape into the cushy feeling of inebriation, I drink to feel in control/decide what I want to feel (which is illogical), I drink to escape the realness of life, I drink so that nobody can get close to me, so that there's a barrier between me and them. And I am owning ALL of that.

My will got me to this place and my will will get me out of this place. I admit I am powerless over alcohol, but it doesn't have to be that way. I know it's a disease, and like many other diseases, it can be cured or managed. But unlike other diseases, it is partially my fault, because I knew what I was doing. I knew what I was doing from the start, and I knew that this would happen; somewhere in me, I knew. And I did it anyway. My mom always said I was strong-willed and that when I set my mind to something, it'd happen. And happen it did. I wanted to annihilate all the shit I went through as a kid, I wanted to kill all those memories and emotions, I wanted to become shallow and one-dimensional. I almost got there before I changed my mind and decided I didn't want to be a hollow shell of a person. My will will get me out of this. My higher power will not, because I am taking responsibility for this. If a higher power is indeed conscious, wouldn't it, like any respectful parent, want us to take care of ourselves? It doubt it wants us to stay as children, needing to be coddled and cared for.

Maybe I've got it all wrong. Maybe this is my ego talking. It probably is. But I still want to take responsibility for my actions that got me here. The initial actions may have been innocent, but the subsequent actions were deliberate, and I was conscious of the probable final outcome.

This is a huge struggle. I will grapple with this for a long time. Maybe I should consider myself, the ideal me actualized, as my higher power. Then I can relinquish control to that person and he can guide me along the way. I know who he is, and I'm sure he'd be willing to give me a hand; he's pretty nice. Sometimes you can see glimpses of him when you look at me from the right angle.

how it all started

Taken from my personal blog (and slightly edited for content).


I spent Easter weekend and the weekdays after in the psych ward this year. That Sunday, they served us dry ham and instant mashed potatoes for dinner. When I got there, I was pumped full of Ativan (2 mg intramuscular and 1 mg oral) and  another mg of Traxene for any withdrawal symptoms I might have been going through (I had been drinking nightly for quite some time at that point).


Yesterday was my mom's birthday and I celebrated it in therapy, talking about when my parents kidnapped me, and when my drinking all started up.


I was 19. My mother manipulated me into helping them move to a rented ranch 4 miles outside of Dove Creek, CO. She promised me they'd send me back to Omaha that weekend. It turned out to be a lie, and her ulterior motive was to pray my gay away, to send me to some camp or go to her church to be "healed". I was there for three months. And after they'd go to bed, I'd drink her box wine, or her bottle of Carlo Rossi. The supply never ended, and she had to have known I was hitting it pretty hard. Basically, I realized in therapy yesterday, they were supplying me alcohol with which to numb myself, so I would be more cooperative. Someday, I'll go into more detail about those three months.


Usually when I tell the story about getting kidnapped by my own parents, I keep myself as far away from the story as possible. I disassociate. I try to keep it light, as if it wasn't a big deal, just something that happened. But I didn't yesterday; I felt it all: I was shaking and crying. It was especially traumatic after I realized that they (my mom and stepdad) were supplying me with something to keep me controlled... and realizing fully, that 12 years later, I'm still that hurt, terrified kid, trying to escape. Feeling things completely is scary.


I got broken up with right before my hospital stay. This is the first break up I've gone through sober. It's interesting... a little less painful, but a little more painful at the same time. I feel less crazy and more in control of my actions, but my emotions, if I don't remember to step back from them, are strong and undiluted. But they are real. They're my authentic emotions - not clouded by the added depression and anxiety, and the distorted thinking that drinking brought me. My thoughts are clear and less cyclical.


I feel more hopeful than I have in years. I'm afraid of failure, of course, but all the research I've done in the last few days on the neurology of alcoholism has pretty much scared me sober. I fear alcohol, now. It was killing my brain. I think, over time, the damage will be somewhat reversed, but I may always have short-term memory problems, and my serotonin and dopamine levels may be permanently affected. They were probably already fucked up by a life of depression (my first suicidal ideation was around 8 years old) and I figure that even if it was originally situational depression, the length of the situation probably did some permanent damage to my developing brain, thus setting me up for clinical depression as a teen/adult.


Something I really need to do is to stop being so hard on myself. Almost every single person that has ever loved or cared about me (family, friends, partners, therapists) has told me this. But I don't know how not to be critical of myself. I just have no idea how to change that. I also don't know how to love myself. Or how to treat myself with respect. I only know how to do those things for other people, which doesn't make sense and is fucked up and often puts me in situations where there is an imbalance in the give/take of relationships. Got any advice? Should I stand in front of the mirror and tell myself that I'm worthy of self-love? I've tried that. My affections are hard to win over.


That's all I've got, for now.

i'm trying

I don't know what this is going to be about. Mostly to document sobriety and what that's like for someone who has been drinking pretty steadily for a really long time, with some pretty nasty binges thrown in for flavor. It's public and probably too personal because I have terrible boundaries and I like to over-share.

I'm at 11 days of sobriety as of today. That's the longest time I've ever gone without a drink since I was 19. I'm 31 now. Luckily, I have the advantage and privilege of Campral to help with cravings and to balance my damaged brain chemistry to a somewhat normal state. I'm also back on Wellbutrin and non-benzo meds for anxiety.

Tonight I start an IOP (Intenseive Outpatient Program) that is 3 hours 5 nights a week. I'll let you know how that goes.

This is going to be hard, but I'm trying.