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 |  Sing it if you understand... |
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2Am and I'm still awake writing a song If I get it all down on paper it's no longer inside of me threaten' the life it belongs to. And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd Cause these words are my diary screamin' out aloud And I know that you'll use them however you want to. But you can't jump the track We're like cars on a cable And life's like an hourglass glued to the table, No one can find the rewind button now Sing it if you understand...and breath... ~ Anna Nalick ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This blaze was destined for you to be refined My plans for you this battle I had to require Even though, the fire is known to leave ashes behind These ashes will leave in you a God-Given Fire... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This woman prays... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ~ Isaiah 61:3 To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion to give unto them Beauty for Ashes the oil of joy for mourning the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness that they might be called trees of righteousness the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified. |
| I’ve had the alcoholic mindset all day. It started first thing this morning when instead of grabbing my written Morning Prayer, I grabbed for the mouse of my home PC, before the coffee was done brewing even. Hey! You guys are my higher power! No…truths, I think I am my own fucking higher power. I spent the first thirty minutes of my day reflecting on ME… No wonder this day was an inner hell. I’m physically sober… I’m emotionally a drunk and crazy bitch today. I felt relief during the noon meeting and especially during the five thirty meeting. I got into it with John today over a piece of damn chicken. Hurt his feelings that I gave a piece of my home cooked chicken to another truck driver instead of him and he went off on me through IM. Called me Shady… I told him it looks like Carla had him taken care of, he resonded: yeah, in more than one way… Knocked my (proverbial) dick in the dirt right there… and I swelled up and was ready to play… Fuck these jealous games. But hell yeah I played along… that alcoholic mindset kicked in and I was all for a fucking war of wits with this dude. I only made things worse. I actually let him see that he got to me… which means I lost the fucking game... well according to that fucked up mindset of mine... That crazy ass committee in my head has worked overtime today… telling me just how sorry I am and how sorry the son bitches are about me. Nothing bad happened, nothing anymore than usual. Sure, John busts a nut when he thinks I’m all for him... he gets off on it...I know this because SO DO I when I think I got him wrapped... or any man for that matter... and when I gave a piece of fucking Chicken to Bernie, it set him off… Do I care? I don’t… it’s that fighter in me… that bullshitter. I want to control this man. I want to bring him to his fucking knees... Who's your Momma? Hell yeah, I knew it would hurt his feelings to see me be sweet to another another man and give him a meal and not John, Yea I knew it wouldn't make him feel GOOD… Yeah, I wanted a reaction and I got one. I didn’t expect that reaction… I was just serving him a taste of his own medicine. He and Blondie walk around connected at the waist all fucking day... Do I feel good because of it? Fuck no… Feel worse… Selfish people are unhappy people. Today I was very unhappy. I practiced damn near every character defect I got. There’s got to be two players to every game. I’m making myself angry again thinking about this. My final blow to him… just before I walked out the door… “I guess her old man’s dick taste good to you... Best of luck with all that in MORE than one way!" She takes care of him in more than one way… { middlefinger }  He said that to get to me… and it did. No one wants to be told that shit by someone that they spent time with. It was obviously a low blow and he knows it… he intended it and loves the hell out of my response to it. I’ve been in a shitty ass mood all day… Just down and out… that old way of thinking crept in… All I can think that I did wrong was getting online instead of getting with my HP first thing this morning. I didn’t invest into my spirituality. I haven’t had these feelings this last week… I’ll do better tomorrow… Do the next right thing… Some of us tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely. Remember that we deal with alcohol, cunning, baffling and powerful --- Without help it is to much for us. But there is One who has all power--- that one is GOD. May you find him now! Half measures avail us nothing. ~ Bill Wilson, AA Big Book Today would have been a drinking day for me. Yeah! I would have “Drank at him”… Fuck with me… yeah, ok I’ll just go get drunk and show you! That makes a lot of sense huh? I’ll cascade a beast into MY body to get back at YOU… Fucking mind of a drunk… I talked to Greta about this. She said the damn Chicken Wing ain’t nothing but a thing! He’s sick … just like me… What would I do for a friend of mine that is sick? I would pray for him to get better… thus helping myself in the process. I got to go and do some studying… Tomorrow I---- not the day ---- I --- I ----- I --- will be better… I learned a valuable lesson, did I not... These fucking relapses create wreckage in our lives that last long after the fucking buzz is gone. I refuse to drown in shallow water... |
| This morning a crack addict came into the food bank for help. I knew by the look on her face she was withdrawing from crack/ cocaine. I knew because I’ve seen that same look in the mirror. I couldn’t tell at first if she was man or woman. She was bundled up in as many sweaters as one person could possibly wear. It was below 30 degrees last night here in Odessa. She told me she was living in a tent at the park a few blocks away from the food bank. John laid his gloves in the break room and she snatched them. He called her on it and asked for his gloves back after a moment of thought he handed them back to her, told her to keep them. She needed them and I was proud of him for that. I saw him look over at me for approval. I was more than pleased to offer a look of appreciation. She can’t feel right now… she can’t function, the drug has kicked her ass… it’s like a dead woman walked in the door. Oh but for the Grace of God, there go I… Some people are better at controlling their addictions than others. I just can’t do it. You give me a little bit; I want a lot… I could easily be that girl that walked into my place of business today. But for the Grace of God… and the people that allow God to work through them… she would be me. First thing this morning, He told me “You are on my shit list”… I knew he wasn’t going to be happy. I stood his ass up; I lied and said I would be there. I followed him to the coffeepot and whispered, “You know I am in recovery.” “Well, you could have just said that instead of leaving me to wait for you all night”. He’s right. I could have… but I didn’t know what I was going to do … I did… but I didn’t know for sure. He caught me off guard. I didn’t expect the call, wasn’t real sure on how to respond. I did the best I could. I stayed sober another day. That’s what matters to me. He seemed to understand. He didn’t bring it up again. We laughed, joked like we always do, while we work. I think he even appeared to respect me more. I am the only Big Book that some of the folks at my place of business have or will ever see. I’m a living example to the people around me. Not a PERFECT example but a live version right before their very eyes. I’m also growing up in public. These same people that see me now working the steps in my life also witnessed me coming to work with a bottle of vodka and orange juice in my purse, my Harley Davidson ball cap on backwards, wearing my holy jeans and Harley tank top… drunk OFF my ASS. Now, I’m wearing an AA desire chip around my neck, got scriptures taped under the keyboard on my desk, dressed in suits and skirts. AND I’m not so hungover or sick anymore that my thoughts are centered around how I feel, what I want or what the HELL is in it for me… So different than it was a year ago on this same date… My boss fired a girl today. Fired her for stealing from our warehouse. I was proud of boss lady, I really didn’t think she had it in her to let someone go like that. This girl has had it coming for a while now. Francis, I have spoke of her before… A NUTCASE… but still I hate that she has lost her job and this close to Christmas. I hope she stole some good shit and it was worth it to her. The thing is: if our conscious doesn’t teach us the difference from right and wrong, the next best teacher is consequence. Rudy tossed a pill on my desk today as he walked by… a loritab. My heart jumped… He thinks he is doing me a favor. He thinks he is taking care of me, in the past, He would have been. Today I immediately stopped what I was doing, ran to the back of the warehouse and gave the pill to John. Told him to take this from me and do it now. I can’t settle for just one. This little fucking white pill will be the beginning of a SPREE of using whatever I can to keep the high and numb the pain of it. What goes up… must come down. I don’t mind going up  Hell no! I hate coming down… coming down SUCKS and I’ll do whatever I have to do to postpone it. I talked to Greta about it. She was proud of me for getting rid of the pill. For not taking it… but she told me next time to tell Rudy I don’t want it instead of accepting it and then giving it away. Just like next time I need to be straight up with my recovery instead of leading someone on to believe I will be over and then just not showing up. Sure… It worked regardless and I’m still sober, but next time I need to do it better and get the same results. It’s very cold outside today. It’s been a great day for me. I came home for the lunch hour and I was just in so much peace. I cranked up my meditation music and read out of my big book and even some scriptures from the big big book. This lunch hour was awesome today. The serenity surrounds me. After work, I rushed home and threw a bird in the oven, soaked it in some cooking wine. My first sponsor is opposed to me cooking with alcoholic based marinades but that little bit of alcohol don’t do shit for me. It all cooks out anyway… and just adds to the flavor. I may be an alcoholic but I ain’t never drank no nasty shit like that. Not YET anyway… Went to the meeting… was in a good mood… laughing, talking, cutting up… the meeting was packed to. The topic was about living in reality and not in a fantasy world. Hey, I needed to hear that for sure. One guy said, “I use to live in a fantasy and only touch base with reality every now and again… but now I live in reality and I CHOSE when I step into a fantasy and when I step back into reality.” I thought that was cool. There was a lot of good stuff said; it was a good meeting. Justin was there, Sheree, Greta, Shelly, Steve (who had the BBQ yesterday) and I thought he was cute till I figured out he is dating Shelly and Shelly means more to me than he ever will… She is very cool and a friend of mine that I love and have great respect for… even though she is dating a guy that I think is HOT! Oh well shit… just my fucking luck anyway. Day late, dollar short… It’s been a good day. I’m eager to begin another one… |
| I talked to Greta just now over the phone. I read to her what I had written last night. She told me I am not BACK in recovery; I have always been in recovery. She told me that she doesn’t believe I relapsed, She said I slipped. A relapse is when we stay gone for a long time, a slip is within a few days we are up and back doing the do things. I thought that was interesting, I slipped… in my sponsor’s opinion, it wasn’t even a relapse. She told me to tell dude, I AM in recovery… not back in it, but I AM … I always was… I just slipped… She also made a point of telling me if we continue to SLIP it will become a relapse. WE do not justify slips… no more than we do relapses… After reading to her what I wrote, she said two words: Control and dominance. She said that I want power over men. I felt out of control when being abused by them in my early years. They controlled me… and I cultivated the sicky way of manipulating and scheming… as an attempt to gain control and to dominant them instead of them controlling and dominating me… how it was in the early years. She said I use to do these types of things, Today I’m not. Today I chose to write about what I USE to be like… I didn’t act it out… I wrote about it… I didn’t act on it, I wrote it… this is progress… this is recovery. Yeah, I repeated myself didn’t I… I’m so thankful that I passed that test… Greta said, Girl, my heart jumped when I got your call. It’s damn tough… a man called you… he’s got dick and dope… all tailored made ready for your presence, YOU made a HUGE leap in recovery… You did what many addicts would or could never do… YOU choose life… You put aside your natural instincts and you did what is supernatural. She made me feel very special… It is because of the time I have invested this last week into recovery, that I was capable of making this choice… GOD, I am so thankful I’m going to a BBQ today with some friends and I’m going to Penny’s house before the cook-out cause she has some clothes she wants to give me…. I LOVE CLOTHES! What today would have been like had I made a different choice??? I don’t even want to think about it… the fact is, today is a beautiful day because I did the do things…  |
| I got a phone call from “dude” yesterday evening. I’m going to call him “Dude” for anonymity purposes. I was sitting on my living room floor, had the contents of my AA book bag spread before me. Law & Order on the TV in front of me. The caller ID read “payphone”… there was a fleeting thought that it was dude, but I couldn’t just NOT answer. I have had many phone calls this last week from my friends in AA. I have also given my phone number to a few girls this week in the group. One is living in a protection center for battered women; it could have been her. So I answered it, and it was dude… My friend Shelly suggested I do… Automatic writing…I edit even when I blog, even though I’m still telling it like I see it, feel it, or desire it… I got that writer in me that want’s to make it sound good. And well, make me LOOK good… I know blogging is not going to work for me when I need to pour out the bullshit in me, but at times I will come back and share what I wrote, This is what I wrote in my notebook after his call, in handwriting I can barely read myself… Dec. 8th Dude called – said waiting on his partner- wanted to get out of his place and come to mine- told him I MAY swing by- explained I’m tapped for cash- he said he has some, said he is waiting on me. I called Greta. – not showing up at dude’s place. Greta wants me to tell him at next contact that I’m back in recovery and working the program. I dialed Greta’s number the SECOND I hung up with dude. Without her I would have gone for him. WHY? I’m not like this with all men, only the one’s I feel I have to work for… to WIN. I considered going because I wanted the attention from him. He doesn’t give his love freely, so if I can WIN it then I’m proving in a twisted fucked up way… that I’m worthy. He is an emotionally unavailable man thus I am SICKLY attracted to him. I didn’t go because I am full of AA, been making a meeting everyday. My sponsor saved me from this relapse. God working through people got me through another 24 hours in recovery. In my sickness I’ll go to any length to prove to someone that I am worthy. I am desirable. Sometimes just to prove it to myself. I’m wanted even if for the wrong reasons, it fuels my fire and I think I’m winning the game. I’m deceiving myself. I don’t want him but I want him to want me. It gives me validation. If I can make an unemotional man feel emotions, I’m getting from him what I tried so hard to get from the man that conceived and raised me into the woman I am. Truth is, it matters not… this isn’t about him, it’s about me. It’s selfish, self-seeking and egocentric. When I do finally win this man’s approval… and I will it’s only a matter of time. I’ve spent many years learning how to manipulate men and getting from them what I lack inside. But the fact is, once he does succumb to my desires, the thrill will be gone. I will trash him like yesterday’s newspaper and forget he even existed. Moving on to the next unemotional man…How can I bring him to his knees like a wounded grisly bear? Shall I use my sweetness or my strength? I analyze, I scheme, and I manipulate… I use my personality, my wits; I don’t have the super model looks that some women have… I can attract a man but it’s the manipulation that makes him stay. I figure out what he wants ME to be and I become it. As I have laughed and joked about before, when a man asks me what my name is? I bat my eyes and grin naughtily, what do you want it to be? Here, I’m joking but it’s the TRUTH. I’m not like this with all men, no it’s just the one’s that disregard me, that don’t fall at my feet from the beginning. The one’s that are emotionally shut off, that I can’t seem to get to without using the tools that I have developed through the years. Tools that I thought I needed for survival. I’m like a predator but you would never know it by looking at me. I prey on emotionally unavailable men. I DESIRE to make them FEEL and I’m not picky about it, I’ll settle for love, confusion, obsession, anger, sorrow, and/or pain… Hey, I’m adjustable! I am addicted to making unemotional men feel emotions. I am addicted to making unemotional men want, need and desire me even for wrong motives. Unemotional is the key here… it’s not all men… it’s only a select few, the one’s that treat me like shit and who are feelingless! They fuel my fire; I strike a pose and start investing everything I got into bringing them to their knees. I’ll sometimes go to any length to do this. ANY LENGTH… I’ll forget who I am in order to get the high that comes from being who they want me to be. I like the high from men more than I do dope or drink. The dope and drink are actually just one of my many tools. You know what… I am powerless over making men love me. GOD will make the ONE man love me that is suppose too. I am powerless over unemotional men. MEN…PERIOD. It’s obvious by dude’s first words to me, “I’m waiting on my partner to come by”… He was only calling me to do dope. He knows me well enough from last relapse, he knows I’ll go to any LENGTH to get what I want. All I need is that FIRST ONE… and the allergy will kick in, I’ll do anything…Even if it means… lying to the people I love, selling my possessions and possibly even selling myself. He witnessed this last time. He knows I’m a full-blown SICKY and alcohol and dope is but a symptom of it. So the fact is, dude don’t give a shit about me… but that isn’t what stopped me, cause with time I’m dead set that I can change that…you see… truth is, I never will because dude is not capable of it but I will kill myself trying…. Literally. What stopped me from this relapse? The hours spent listening to others talk about how they face each day and live with this obsessive disease, the 1000-pound phone that I could never pick up before… I used it this time and I called Greta. I wouldn’t have called Sheree… I don’t know why, maybe I feel like she is to busy for me, but I know this sponsor change is God inspired. Greta and I have so many similarities that it could only be a God thing that brought us together. We just click… She had her family over and was willing to drop it all and come to my house. No..No.. I told her, If I wanted this relapse I wouldn’t have called you. I was proud of myself for making that call and I saw just how REAL Greta is with this. She reminded me of her story and asked if that’s really what I wanted out of life. Seven years of walking and working the streets of St. Louis Missouri, doing ANYTHING to get a high, being raped, beaten, guns put in her mouth… She is raising the bottom for me… like the big book of AA says: Step one requires an admission that our lives have become unmanageable, how could a functioning alcoholic/addict take this step? It was obviously necessary to raise the bottom that the rest of us had to hit to the point where it would hit them. By going back in our drinking histories, we could show that years before we realized it we were out of control, that our drinking even then was no mere habit, that it was indeed the beginning of a fatal progression. Because of THIS…Alcoholics, who still had their health, families, jobs, and even two cars in the garage, began to recognize their alcoholism. They were spared the last ten or fifteen years of literal hell the rest of us had gone through. You see, I haven’t had HUGE consequences because of my drinking. Sure, I’ve hit an emotional bottom so many times… and that’s fucking hell… but as far as my health, my home, my job… I’ve been a functioning user and I’ve managed somehow to hold on to these things. However, if I CONTINUE down this path of self-destruction… the time will come when it will all be gone. There is absolutely no doubt about it. This is why good sponsorship is so important in the program of AA. Our sponsors raise the bottom for us… just so happens I got a hardcore sponsor now and she uses her story to tell me exactly what mine will be if I don’t do something NOW to change my path. When dude called last night, I was actually working on the assignments she has given me. There’s no doubt that God working through her is what saved me from partaking in this relapse. The assignments she has given me: 1. List the five worst things you have ever done 2. Write how you feel about yourself now and then 3. Make a list of ten things that are unmanageable in my life today 4. Write what you really believe about God, other people and yourself 5. Look up the words, Rigorous, Admitted, Powerless, and Unmanageable, find the definition that fits best for you, keep note of them always. GOD! I am so thankful I woke up this morning after a good nights rest… I’m here drinking coffee, cuddled up in a warm blanket, drug free… Thank you GOD! |
My computer froze and I had to shut down the hard way.  I was just wrapping up a big long entry! Well, maybe I wasn’t suppose to be writing what I was writing, so I’m starting brand new. Even though you guys didn’t read what I wrote, I still wrote it, thus got it out of me and onto the screen. Mission accomplished. I have been cracking myself up! Playing with my answering machine, leaving all these crazy sounding announcements. Finally I settled on one… I wasn’t intending on leaving it but It just made me bust out laughing so much that I left it. I get home tonight and my step-dad had called. He left a message for me. “Roses are red, violets are blue, You’re full of bullshit and maybe I am too”. My mom left a message to: “Uh Sis… you been drinking?”  No, I’m just having some fun! I was tripping the other night on my name. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I dropped my antidepressants… Just cold turkey... I know this is not good. But Fuck it, I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. I want to FEEL… I’ve been comfortably numb for quite sometime. I’m tired of living like that. Anyway, I was lying up in bed trying to nod off and I was thinking about my name. I have a pretty name… Jennifer. That’s a cool name! My mother did well. Actually, I imagine I was thinking about my name because there was another Jennifer in yesterdays meeting. Everyone made a big deal about us having the same name and when she introduced herself I responded by blurting out across the room at her, “Nice name!” I bet that’s why I was tripping on the name thing. Many people have told me I look like a Jennifer. I guess this is a good thing since I am ONE! In 1977 (the year I was born) my name was the most popular baby girl name. I read that online somewhere. I spent time with Greta today over at her apartment. She has a dog that doesn’t bark! He has not the voice box to bark! Is that a trip or what!? I did not know there were dogs that could not bark! I can’t remember what breed she said he is, like from Egypt or something. But the cutest, sweetest little puppy! Just was all over me, Animals like me. I got a good smell or something but it never fails when I walk in the animal’s flock to me. This one was extra precious. I wanted to steal him. I think Greta would have kicked my ass though so I scratched that idea. I forced myself out of my rut this week. I have spent very little time online. I haven’t been home and at work I have been busting a move all week. It’s a madhouse up there. We are all so stressed! I’m really behind on blog reading, There are emails I haven’t responded too! I plan on doing so but I needed to purge first. I don’t know that I am capable of any deep blogging at this point. I just want to shoot the shit. I’m exhausted still. My body is aching and I’m forcing myself to sit up at the computer and I honestly am not feeling the blog thing. My nose is clogged. I can’t breathe. I keep rubbing my eye and all I’m doing is smearing my makeup into it and thus making it burn. I just brewed a pot of coffee and it tastes yummy but I don’t think I’ll make it through but a few cups. Coffee doesn’t keep me awake by the way… I can drink several pots of it and go pass out! I paid my mother her money today. Now, I am a broke bitch! But I got what I need… I have groceries in the frig, cigs to smoke, fuel in the car. Meowster has some bites to last her through the week. It’s a damn good thing I spent all that money last payday on groceries, Remember? I bought all kinds of meats and shit …so I’m really not hurting for anything I need. So I can’t go out and shop on this payday… but really… I don’t NEED anything. I am truly a blessed girl. I haven’t come clean with my mom yet. I talked to my sponsor about it today. But a little bit ago… it came to me… I paid Mom the money; she hasn’t asked any questions so I haven’t had to lie… Do I really have to tell her that I relapsed? My mother is not an alcoholic. She does not understand the disease. She will be angry. She will be hurt. She will think she did something to bring this on. She just doesn’t get it. Will it cause her more pain to know? Step 9 of Alcoholics Anonymous: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. Would it injure her to know I went back out? Probably so … My mother is an enabler. My mother is very soft hearted. She loves me a lot and it breaks her heart when I go out and drink and use. Does she really need to know? I don’t know what I want to do, but I do know that if she asks me about the money, about any of it, I do not want to lie. I will not lie to her anymore. Should I offer to tell her? Or wait till she asks… if she asks? I’ll talk to Greta about it in the morning and see what she thinks. I thought of this AFTER I had talked to her earlier. An Angel says: The secret to contentment is to realize that life is a gift, not a right. I talked a lot with Greta today at her place. I learned a lot of her story and damn it is so much like mine. Men who played different roles in our lives sexually abused us both. Both had emotionally unavailable fathers who physically and emotionally abused us. Both of us have mothers that are enablers. Both of us are intelligent and fairly educated. We both come from money. I mean the similarities are endless. Greta is strong, beautiful, bold, and independent. She has gone above and beyond me in the drug world. She lived on the streets for seven years and hustled everyday for dope. My biggest demon is alcohol but let me tell you Crack/Cocaine is the DEVIL himself. Nothing but pure fucking evil rocked up in a crack pipe… I’ve only indulged for the last two years in the shit and not continuously… but I’ve done shit I never said I would do because of that drug and my bottom will fall lower and in a short amount of time if I don’t do what I know I have to do to stay sober. As much as I love WDC and all the fine people I have meet through this site, Unfortunately, sitting here isolated in my apartment and pouring my heart out on this screen isn’t going to keep me sober. What is it about me that attracts black guys? Blonde hair? Big Butt? Thick body? I swear on my big book of AA, everywhere I go a black man hits on me. I got one big ol’ buff dude damn near stalking me… He seems like a nice guy, he is huge! Makes me look like a little girl standing next to him and he smells so good… Men’s cologne gets me all kinds of fuzzy feeling on the inside … but it just trips me out that it never fails… NEVER… almost every black guy I encounter hits on me! It is flattering… and it is making me feel better about myself. I have let myself go to shit lately. I put on my good bra today and got decked out for the birthday meeting tonight. I looked down at my chest … Damn! I got cleavage! I don’t remember the last time I showed my cleavage! I have been wearing baggy t-shirts and stretchy pants for the last three months. I just haven’t felt good… I feel that all-changing now and I’m eager to get this party started! |
| Yesterday was a hard day. I walked out of a restaurant 10 minutes after I got there and left my AA friends dazed and confused. I just wasn’t feeling the whole ‘eat and be merry’ thing. I just couldn’t hang. Tears poured down my face as I drove myself home. I just don’t belong… I sat in my car after parking and I violently cried. After 15 minutes of sitting in the dark parking lot, I cried my way up the stairs to my home. Paced the floors… crying… I don’t belong anywhere but in this room all by myself It was a hard day… bottom line. Nothing bad happened… nothing that was so terrible to send me into an emotion outburst. It’s just all I could do… cry… it ain’t pretty when I cry… then I look in the mirror at my mascara smeared down my chubby cheeks, my blood shot eyes, medusa hair, swollen eye sockets… and I cry even harder cause of how I look! GIrl, You UgLy! Greta called after she had her meal and left the restaurant, I was crying mad. Told her this fake nicey bullshit ain’t my bag. The nerve of that woman asking me how I am doing… I don’t even know her name! All those people up there laughing and talking… uh… Shouldn’t they be catering to my every fucking need? I’m a newcomer DAMMIT! I was not good… Greta told me real quick “The woman you are badmouthing didn’t do a thing to you. No one did a thing to you. The problem is IN you…” “I just don’t fucking belong no where!” “The way you’re feeling and acting right now CONFIRMS that you belong in Alcoholics Anonymous!” She got me good with that response… Today… was a good day. Weeeeeeeeee----- From one extreme to the next… I was a ball of sunshine all day… bouncing around the office, got organized, got a lot of work done, cleaned the front office… Weeeeeeee…. The world is beautiful… I love my job. I love my people. I’m all smiles. I’m going out of my way to help somebody. It’s been a good day. I mean… for real… not everything went like I would have liked … but I was capable of just ‘being’ OK. What made the difference? Hell if I know. Maybe I just needed a good cry. I’ve always felt like an outsider looking in. In recovery, I think it has become less and less but yesterday I had a flashback and I was sitting there with a bunch of sober people acting like they was drunk. I wanted to be there but I didn’t. I was uncomfortable. It was just a bad day… My solution: accepted even though not understood. I’m entitled to a bad day… if it must be. Don’t have to like it… don’t even have to understand WHY… just accept life on life’s terms. Even Non-Alcoholics have bad days, right? Well, it happened to me… Today, Dawn, from work…who by the way is extremely blunt and straight forward, she is not liked by many because of it, I have never really minded it but what I don’t like is she appears to have a negative outlook and pessimistic sarcastic character at times. Well, she shocked the hell out of me, She pulled me to the side and said, “I just want to say something to you. I don’t know what is going on in your life but I have noticed so much difference in you, your attitude, your demeanor, your work, everything… in the last few months. I don’t know what you’re doing but keep it up…” That was really cool… Our sponsors declared that we were the victims of a mental obsession so subtly powerful that no amount of human will power could break it. The tyrant alcohol wielded a double-edged sword over us: first we were smitten by an INSANE URGE that condemned us to go on drinking, and then by an ALLERGY of the body that insured we would ultimately destroy ourselves in the process. We perceive that only through utter defeat are we able to take our first steps toward liberation and strength. Our admissions of personal powerlessness finally turn out to be firm bedrock upon which happy and purposeful lives may be built. When you lay hold of AA principles with all the fervor with which the drowning seize life preserves, you will almost invariably get well. This is why the first edition of the book “Alcoholics Anonymous”, published when our membership was small, dealt with low bottom cases only. Many less desperate alcoholics tried AA but did not succeed because they could NOT make the admission of hopelessness. ~ Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of AA My life is out of control. My emotions are out of control. Drugs and alcohol have kicked my ass, beaten me into a state of reasonableness. I am an alcoholic. I am a drug addict. I am powerless over my addictions; I am powerless over EVERYTHING! Sometimes even myself… THERE I admitted it!! but do I really believe it? Fuck ya! When I use ANY mind-altering substance, I do not know what the outcome will be. I break out in SPOTS… I never know what kind of spot I’ll be in when the ride stops. Hey! I haven't forgot about my online buds... I've just been picking my ass up... I'll be around to see you all very soon, don't count me out. |
Dear Santa. This year, I want more of the same. Nothing new, please. I already have so much of everything, that I already don't seem to find time to appreciate it all. Why, just yesterday I made use of refrigeration in my home -- in fact, several times! - and I did not take the time to appreciate it. And I put on several articles of clothing for both indoor and outdoor applications, and again I failed to really appreciate them...despite the wonderful comfort they accorded me. And the can opener was quite useful - don't know what I would have done without it - but I just did not appreciate it. So this year please don't bring me anything more to not appreciate. Instead, I'll try to focus over the next year on appreciation. Thanks Santa! ~ The Happy Guy |
Dr. William D. Silkworth – AKA – Dr. Silky – AKA - The Little Doctor that loved drunks… Gave to Alcoholics Anonymous his Medical Stamp of Approval… The Doctor’s Opinion --- Beginning pages of AA’s Big Book ~ We believe, and so suggested a few years ago, that the action of alcohol on these chronic alcoholics is a manifestation of an allergy; that the phenomenon of craving is limited to this class and never occurs in the average temperate drinker. These allergic types can NEVER safely use alcohol in any form at all; and once having formed the habit and found they cannot break it, once having lost their self confidence, their reliance upon things human, their problems pile up on them and become astonishingly difficult to solve. This day for me has been another balls to wall day in the life of this Texas Party girl. I’m feeling much better tonight. I just spent the last hour talking to Greta over the phone. She had me read, The Doctor’s Opinion, to her over the phone. We talked about our thoughts on different paragraphs. She explained some things to me. I’ve gotten Dr. Bob and Dr. Silky confused in the past. Dr. Bob is co-founder of AA. Dr. Silky was Bill Wilson’s doctor when he was institutionalized; Bill Wilson is the Founder of AA. Dr Silky’s medical practices specialized in Alcoholism. After many years of researching, studying, desperately trying to find a cure for alcoholism, Dr. Silky witnessed Bill Wilson’s recovery, thus, became a believer in the program Bill Wilson created through divine inspiration, known today as the program of Alcoholics Anonymous The inspector showed up this morning. She is from Chicago, IL and boy did she ever look and act like an inspector. I only got two smiles out of her all day and I can normally make anyone feel comfortable. She looked like a female erection walking around, getting all up in all our shit! Haha… but she has a job to do so what shall I expect… She’ll be here tomorrow too. I heard rumor that she made comment about our second (storage) warehouse being filthy. It hurt the warehouse manager’s feelings as well as most of the warehouse staff. We have all busted our ass to get both our warehouses cleaned up… John told her, “This is West Texas, The dust is just going to be there!” He really had a point, for real… This TOWN is a dirtball! But anyway, I hope things turn out OK and we get a good grade. Shit, we pop into our agencies and do inspections such as this; it will look real bad if we don’t pass an inspection from the big wigs! I know we will pass… So it’s been kind of a somber day. I couldn’t crank the tunes at work cause she was right there sniffing around my office. I did cook a meal for the inmates that came to volunteer today but didn’t stick around to eat, I bolted to a noon meeting, then made a 5:30 meeting. Frank is an old man that goes to meetings with me, I called him the other day to get Justin’s phone number so my number came up on his caller ID… Well, I went to school with Frank’s son. Well… his son is just getting out of prison and is living in a halfway house. Frank told him about me, Frank told me today that his son would like my phone number. HELL NO! Damn… let me get some sobriety before bombarding my ass with mind-altering men… especially ones that are not freely choosing to go the direction I want to go! Frank got offended… My son is doing good… he is this and he is that… on and on…well, tell him to come to AA meetings… This is where I’ll be… but I don’t want him calling me up and expecting me to be all for him. I know he is just getting out of prison, What does every man got on his mind when he is fresh out of prison? FUCKING… I have no idea why I’m writing about this but it bothered me that Frank would push his son off on me like that. Just let me be sober for a freaking MINUTE! Damn, the bruises ain’t even healed from my body from last relapse! I still got wounds! Your son is not on my ‘to do’ list old man!  I told Sheree yesterday that I would be working with Greta through the steps. She said she felt it was a good idea. I think it stung her a bit. I tend to be over sensitive at times. Typical alcoholic! Like I heard someone say in a meeting. A normal person’s feeling level is about three inches deep, OUR feeling level is three foot deep… it hits the core… this is why we tend to drawn it. Still I think it hurt her pride a bit, but the fact is… my recovery is about me. I need someone that can create a friendship. Sheree has a husband, kids… she is going to school, and she volunteers all over town. She rents out homes, she’s a landlady to many…her life is BUSY! I need someone that can sit on the phone with me for hours. I need someone that I can go crash on her couch if need be. Someone that can go to meeting with me, go out to eat, go to dances and events with me. Sheree has a NON-alcoholic husband. He is not active in the program since he is not an Alkie. She reminds me of one of those jugglers with all those balls flying every direction. She also is more like a mother figure to me. Just like yesterday when I talked to her about this last relapse, it was as if she was talking down to me. She would never want it to appear that way but after 18 years sobriety, It’s easy to forget how hard it is in the beginning. Sheree is still my sponsor but Greta is my active sponsor at this point in time. Greta has 2 years of recovery. She is ON FIRE with the program. She is single, No kids, and lives alone with her little puppy. She is a survivor of sexual abuse. She’s a writer! She has done hard dope as to Sheree never did, she was only a pot smoker, never got into the hard shit. Greta can understand where I’m a lot more so… she’s been there, she knows what it’s like to tweak and geek over a rock. We are really hitting it off. I’m am so excited about teaming up with her and chasing this sobriety high again. Another thing I like, Greta shares more of the same spiritual beliefs as me. Sheree was raised in a hard core Catholic religious home. That tends to turn people away from God. I have never had God or religious doctrine shoved down my throat from someone that I held much regard too. My mother let me believe, as I wanted to… she never pushed God on me. So I think it’s easier for me now, I don’t have all the old stuff to unlearn. I get to form my own idea’s of God and It was my complete choice to believe in the God I have chosen. The only one there is… Jesus Christ. Greta’s beliefs are more in line with mine. This I like… My Faith, My God, My beliefs are very important to me. This is one area that I can not be convinced otherwise. Not that Sheree ever once disrespected my Faith, in fact, she always supported it… but she just doesn’t talk about her Faith as much as I would like her to. I want to know that the person guiding me to where I need to be… is being guided by what I believe to be the one true source. I am so rambling and not even editing! This is good…I need to spew! Penny gave me a sack full of new clothes today. She cleaned out her closet yesterday. These are some nice outfits too! She gave me a blue jean dress that I’m going to wear tomorrow. I’m all ready and prepared for a new day. Came home after the meeting and did the few dishes I had, vacuumed, got my coffee pot set for in the morning, made the bed… why? I’m just going to get right back in it… BUT I like to be all snuggly under the SHEET and the Blanket… not just the blanket. Greta is a morning person like me. She and I have spent at least thirty minutes on the phone in the mornings before I go to work. We read the daily reflection and talk about God and the promises of AA and just shoot the shit. I find myself looking forward to calling her. She is so real… she is strong, she don’t bullshit, she holds me accountable, but she does it all with love without babying me. Cause damn it I like being babied! And I will let someone do it if they will! But she doesn’t have that motherly nature like Sheree does. She is more like a BUD… a hard core, this is the fucking fact about it… bud. She’s been where I am! And not so long ago… Greta is absolutely beautiful too. She has just the prettiest face features. She is real girly like me, always has her makeup on and her nails looking nice… We have much common ground. She has requested of me to write a gratitude list. She has also told me to start thinking about what I can do to be more responsible. Like… hint hint… get to work on time… since I’m always freaking LATE! She has also told me to make a list of ten. Ten options that I have when the road starts getting bumpy… and Lord knows it WILL! Life is just fucking LIFE… The rain pours on the sober just like it does the drunk… on the just … just as it does the unjust. She told me to put, take a drink, at the very bottom of the list. And when I get giddy… bust out my list and start the process of elimination. Example: 1. Pray 2. Call my sponsor 3. Go to a meeting 4. Go for a walk 5. Meditate 6. Cuss the cat 7. Write it out 8. Take a shower 9. Reach out for ANYONE that is sober 10. Take a fucking drink *** Just an example… not my real list… I don’t think, maybe it is! What else to I have to say? Damn it! I’m suppose to be in bed by now… I’m going to change my bedtime so that I can get up earlier and get into meditation and prayer in the mornings before work. I’m sick of hitting the floor running in the mornings… and Greta says this is not good… we need our time especially in the mornings. So, I won’t be around Bloggsville as much. I got to make some drastic changes and I’m MOVING ON… like the song that I got through email from Dee. Dr. Silky wrote this following paragraph about me… I swear to it! Men and women drink essentially because the like the effect produced by alcohol. The sensation is so elusive that, while they admit it is injurious, they cannot after a time differentiate the true from the false. To them, their alcoholic life seems the only normal one. They are restless, irritable and discontented unless they can again experience the sense of ease and comfort which comes at once by taking a few drinks ---- drinks which they see others taking with impunity. Hey! Those that know me… tell me if this next paragraph doesn’t sound familiar… After they have succumbed to the desire as so many do, and the phenomenon of craving develops, they pass through the well-known stages of a spree, emerging remorseful, with a firm resolution not to drink again. This is repeated over and over, and unless this person can experience an entire psychic change there is very little hope for recovery. I gotta GO! Bust a move with me!!!! Come on… Click it… and let’s dance… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WUrdluIdaU |
| I came home to an inbox full of support… many of the messages just heart wrenching. How do you say thank you… there are no words that I’ve learned so far which would allow me to express how grateful I am to those of you who love unconditionally. Deelyte- Chillin'   sent me a song I have heard but only a few times but never listened like I did today… I’ve claimed it now! I felt myself standing a little taller as I listened to it through the link in her email to me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZITvtotBbzI bugzy is baaaccck!! sent me a beautiful card! I wish we could save those and put them in our port! Is there a way? Cause I want to keep this one, it means so much. So many of you sent supporting emails and comments… I’m very grateful. All of you are answers to a prayer I’ve whispered in the dark … one of divine connections. Yes… YOU are. I haven’t had time to respond to all… but I most certainly will. My friend, Kenneth AKA – Skittles, came by my work this morning left me the keys to his truck and took my car. He brought it back to me at lunch time… he had taken it down and got it detailed from top to bottom, inside and out. Then he took me to lunch. I’m still exhausted today. The shit we addicts put ourselves through, it’s like a suicide attempt disguised as a good time. Like I said yesterday, it began with a Loritab, one not prescribed to me… I see many faces throughout my workday. People come and people go… A volunteer had a prescription of tabs and offered me one… just out of the blue. I was bitchy, grumpy… PMSing… which has always been a weak time for me. In the beginning of my sobriety, EVERY one of my relapses happened when I was PMSing… I have hormone problems. There are ways of treating and caring for such things… other than self-medication. I see now I took the chicken shit way out of my self-pity. “You want one?” He said to me as he swept the tile floor in front of my desk. I knew exactly what he was referring to. There was no need to play stupid. I thought about it for less than a second and responded without hesitation, “Yeah.” The big white pill with little blue specks… went from my hand to my mouth and down my throat in .01 seconds… The physical obsession automatically kicked in within in 15 minutes and my only thoughts centered on how am I going to keep this high. Loritabs effect people differently. Some people, even alcoholics can take them as prescribed… and only when prescribed and never have a problem… but I’m not one of them people. They are like speed to me. My body takes them differently. Loritabs is what my friend, Shafter Cosper, OD’d and died from back in July. I took ten of them in less than eight hours. I didn’t think of his death, not once… maybe I need to superglue his obituary to the back of my arm instead of leaving it folded up inside of my AA Big Book. I have been down this road before. I knew in my heart of hearts, that I handed over my ability to make choices with that gulp … but for some reason I believed that I could do the same thing but get different results this time. My physical pain was numbed; I was flying around my place of business like a kid in the playground. I was bouncing off the walls. I went from bitch to good time gal in a short amount of time. My outlook on life was instantly changed. Physically, emotionally, mentally… I won’t lie and say that I don’t like the high cause baby I do! What I don’t like are the consequences. Using was already an option for me. Relapse begins in the mind long before it actually takes place. I’ve been sitting still… dry… not sober of mind for the last ninety days or longer. I’m still hurting over Sarah and the choices I made with her. I can’t tell myself what to feel; sometimes I can’t even feel what I’m REALLY feeling. It’s buried under layers and layers of self-denial on top of more layers of self-denial. Towards the close of the Thursday workday, I was invited to watch the Cowboys game. I don’t like football. I like the Cowboys cause I’m a Texan! But… football… not my bag. My first question to the invitation giver “What kind of party favors will be there?” “What kind do you want?” I was at the bank and back in 10 minutes… when my money ran out, I dived into someone else’s… Mommy’s money … impressive huh… I heard a man say in a meeting yesterday… the easiest way to get sober is to slap a cop. Then the good ol’ State of Texas will lock you up and force you to get sober. I haven’t had huge consequences because of my addictions… YET… I haven’t been in trouble with the law. I haven’t been homeless or unemployable because of my addictions. You see… I’m so damn intelligent about it all…I straighten up long enough to fool those around me and well myself… then when I think it’s safe again… I TwIsT AwAy! I think I’m in control because of this. I think I have the upper hand… I’m just digging my own fucking grave. I haven’t been physically ill because of my addictions… not serious anyway… YET… My new sponsor, Greta, is DYING because of liver failure due to years of hard core drinking. I’m in the prime of my life… What the hell is going to keep me sober? It damn sure ain’t going to be a man, tried that already. It’s not because I don’t LIKE the high cause I fucking do! FEAR? I’m a fighter, not a flightier. I don’t even think that FEAR of what could be… is going to keep me sober. A desire to be a good person? I’m a caring person when I’m using… My hearts the same… stoned or straight… So?? So what is? Why do you want to be sober JENNIFER? I mean, even God can use a cracked pot to benefit his kingdom… So why… Maybe because I’m worth it. Maybe because I’ve got better things to do than waste my potential. Maybe because I’m selling myself short by wasting away day after day… Maybe I just think there really IS a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Maybe because I want to live it up, take this life for what’s it worth… instead of committing a slow and agonizing suicide… Maybe I want to see just what I’m made of… I’m so damn tired. I’m still not thinking real clear. It’s been a busy day at work, inspector will be here in the morning, I was cleaning out closets, scrubbing floors… No time to really even think, I’m thinking that’s not a bad thing. It’s passed my bedtime… Peace out! An Angel says… If you are on the right path and moving along—you will reach your goal, but if you are on the right path you will be run over if you just sit still.  you till the very end… |
| It’s late. I’m exhausted. I have bruises all over my body. I tend to run into shit when I lose control. I have a toothache, a sinus headache… pulled a muscle in my left thigh… been screwed up the ass… I’m just beat to hell… inside and out. Started with a painkiller. Just a little pill… 48 hours later, I’m standing amidst empty wine and whisky bottles, got a crack pipe stuck in my mouth, an empty pocket book… and a mind eating guilty conscious. I do what I’m accustomed to doing, I shower, I clean up … I call my mom just to tell her I love her and I log on to the computer. I start pouring my shame into words the best that I can through tear blinded eyes. Hopeless… that’s the only word to describe my state of being. I reach out to someone through IM, I’m gifted bullshittless mercy… I’m weak, I’m vulnerable. I don’t even know what the next right thing to do is. I can’t think straight. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to be alive, but death isn’t my call. I can’t handle this… I’m afraid. I’m lost. I’m just hopeless. I’ve relapsed. I call my sponsor, no answer. I call her again, no answer. I call Skittles, No answer. I call Greta, no answer. I call Frank; he gives me Justin’s phone number. I call Justin, we bullshit for a while. I just can’t be alone with myself right now. I’m running from me… My sponsor calls me back, I let Justin go and talk to her, she is out of town, traveling through San Antonio as we speak. I tell her what I’ve done, she tells me to double up in my efforts. She doesn’t have time to talk, but tells me to call again if I need her. I get in the shower and try to calm myself. Greta returns my call. I hear her voice through the answering machine and through the sounds of the shower. I call her back when I get out and ask that she sponsor me. I’m missing something… I’m not doing something right. Something has got to give… I’m willing to go to any lengths to stop this insanity. Greta is strong. She cuts to the quick. She immediately took charge, demanded that I be dressed and ready for a meeting in 30 minutes. I whimper out a simple, “okay”… You tell me what to do… what I’ve been doing is not fucking working. I’m at a loss… I give. Skittles returns my call. I tell him about the relapse. He shows up at my home group. I stood up for a desire chip, cried my eyes out through the entire meeting. I never cry. I’ve been crying all day today… I even let other people see me cry. Tears poured down my face the entire hour. The topic was ME… it was admitting powerlessness. Without that… we can’t stay sober. Lucy gave me some Lilly’s. They are beautiful and have made my whole apartment smell sweet. Skittles filled up my gas tank, gave me some quarters for laundry. I have only pennies to my name, I spent everything I had … I got real close to trading my TV for dope, only reason I still have it is cause the dealer declined at the last minute, wasn’t new enough for him. I’m really lucky to have the people I do that stand by me no matter what. No one is perfect, we all got our personality quirks… the same folk that I’ve dogged and disregarded are the one’s that are here for me now. Skittles, Justin, even Greta… I thought she was too harsh, I thought I could never get along with her… Now, I see she is exactly what I need. My sobriety is my responsibility. I’m not holding anything against Sheree, but I need someone that has time for me. I need someone that can build a bond and not just be Mother Hen to me. I’m keeping Sheree, I’m not letting her go, but I will be working the steps with Greta this round. I’m starting at Step One, December 2, 2007… Greta gave me a list of what she expects: I will be here for you as long as you are serious about the directions from the Big Book. In order for us to pass on the message, it is important that we do not waste anyone’s time. I am here to share my experience, strength and hope. To many people are sick and dying because they cannot or will not make an honest commitment to themselves to give the steps time to work in their lives. I will expect to see you at meetings, I want to see your face at lease once a week. You will call me at least once a day. We will meet on a weekly basis to see where you are on your steps. If you have not finished your homework, call me and reschedule. Do not show up without your completed assignments. I do not have time if you have not done what I have requested of you. You will be required to go out on 12 step calls and you will speak at meetings when you are asked. We have a disease that can kill us; working with you is a privilege yet at the same time it helps me to stay sober. Looks like I won’t be wondering what she is thinking or expecting of me? … I think this is what I need… God I hope so. I have much more to say, but I have got to get some sleep. I don’t want to face him tomorrow, but I have no choice. I’m trying not to be resentful… he didn’t do anything to me, I did it to myself. |
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