How shitty was it?!
...if your dog barfed, then ate that barf, then barfed the barf, then ate the barfed barf, then shit it out, that would come pretty close to how shitty last night became.
I drove home screaming, screaming because I wanted to drink but couldn't. Screaming because the bars were closed. Screaming because I thought last summer's drama was over but I was horribly mistaken. Screaming because all I wanted to do was go home.
In the torrential downpour of my pity party, I hugged the one blanket on my bed while leaving my legs free to feel the artificial breeze of the air conditioner and had one hell of an ugly cry. The one thing I've noticed about my absence from drinking is that when I'm struggling in the wee hours of the morning, I don't want to bother other people, either because of the present time or time zones. I panicked. All I wanted to do was go home where I was safe from the onslaught of immaturity I've encountered. Who do I talk to?
I know. The "Front Page of the Internet" is surely why my insomnia is so rampant. For the last few years, Reddit was a source of entertainment while I was working or trying to pass the time in the airport or the car. But last night, I needed the reassurance from strangers across the globe that everything was going to be okay, and that drinking isn't worth it and will not solve my problems. I posted my conflict of experiencing anxiety and really wanting to drink, and within mere minutes, anonymous friends responded:
"Recovery teaches us not to rent space in our heads to others, especially toxic people."
"Some people don't like me. That's ok, I don't like a lot of people too but I never had a problem with that because it was what I wanted and I had to learn to be less selfish and more tolerant. Including the people I did not care for. It sounds trite and almost like being a pushover but it's true and it took a while to start to be okay with that. Drinking has never made anyone accept me but my actions when drunk have without fail had a negative impact on my relationships with others. Sobriety however has helped mend some broken relationships and given me the clarity to realize some things aren't worth the energy and I have to let them pass. Hang in there, this is just a blip on the recovery radar. It will pass."
"Feelings can't make you drink. They can be shitty as all getup, but anger won't kill you. It will pass."
And it will pass. I'm amazed by the 20-something responses I've received. Each response was a reminder that I'm still early in my sobriety and that I still have a lot of learning to do. Inpatient provided me with a particular set of skills to use in the outside world to help me in sobriety and keep track of my kidnapped daughter. I've been letting someone else control my happiness for too long. I'm not sure how I became that weak or overly sensitive. For years I've let people sneak under my skin and rattle my bones until I was nothing but a naked windchime. I need to be strong and remember that others don't control my sobriety: I do.
Do I need to tag "barf" in this post? Hmm.
I made the decision to leave sooner rather than later, yet again. All I really want to do is go home, so I'll be leaving a week from today. Home is the best thing for me right now, and that's where I want to be. I'll be leaving next Monday and hopefully arriving in Seattle on Friday. My car and I both have doctor appointments before we shove off into the western abyss, and I'll have my last therapy appointment on Friday. I'm going to miss my therapist, kind and gentle Margaret. I'll be very lucky if I ever have the pleasure of meeting someone like her again.
There's a few people in Minneapolis I'm really going to miss, people who have made me question whether or not moving home is the right decision for me. People who are on my team, people who stood by me when times were toughest, people who see me for who I really am. Undoubtedly, moving home is the right decision. But there's the dangling "what if" in the back of my brain that feeds on anxiety, early morning rumination, and lack of sleep. Moving home is the opportunity I can control, an opportunity that won't give up on me or lie to me. I need to be excited and strong on this path. If something is conjured in the future, so be it. But for now, all of my roads lead to home.
I am in desperate need of a mom hug. I miss my mom's smell. She smells like a mix of fabric softener, powdered foundation, and good blankets. I only saw her last week and I miss her. She's been my Number 1 supporter of everything I've accomplished in the last five months. She's the best cheerleader, the warrior for love and kindness. A little over five months ago, I was sitting in a hospital bed with blood matted in my hair and bruises across my chest and back. I called my mom between fluttering nurses and caseworkers.
Me: I think I need help.
My mom: I'm so glad you asked.
I had never felt closer to my mom than in that moment. The adult child, admitting to faults and weaknesses, reaching out to a listening mother. I really can't thank her enough for everything she's done to help me. Having a strong family has enlightened me to how fortunate I am in my sobriety. I'm not battling extensive legal fees, losing my offspring to the system, or sitting in a jail cell while my prison wife calls me "Chica" and eats my sandwiches without my permission. I am incredibly grateful for the people who support me.
I saw Trainwreck this evening. I saw a lot of myself in Amy Schumer during the movie and being able to relate to her character made me like it that much more. The movie is definitely a comedy, and every comedy movie has it's sad, dramatic, heartbreaking, nostalgic parts to it that tug at all the feelings you were trying to escape from by seeing a comedy in the first place. Also, Lebron James is a great actor and his future is bright in cinema. The cast had some notable names from comedy speckled through it, making each scene enjoyable and exciting. I recommend it. I haven't exactly been following the latest or hottest gossip on Amy's career choices, but I think she's owning it so she can do whatever the fuck she wants.
You know what? Fuck it, I'm tagging "barf."