Hell's Laundry Chute

2010-09-30T16:17:00.001-04:00

This is an incredibly powerful essay!

http://www.danoah.com/2010/09/disease-called-perfection.html?ref=nf

2010-08-31T15:38:00.004-04:00

So, like I do everytime I start to hate AA, I started going every day again. I had the time to do it, and Lord knows I was in enough pain to try it. And of course, it worked. I did some extra service, showed up early, stayed late to talk to newcomers. And I did it for about a month. And voila, much less crazy. Good thing, too, because after laying that solid foundation I went on a very serenity-stripping two week vacation!

It was an amends vacation, really. I haven't been much in contact with my grandparents, and my daughter (who now lives overseas) hasn't seen them since she was four. (She's ten.) With my grandmother making a miraculous recovery this summer, I decided that it was time for me to begin reinforcing the importance of family connection. So I started writing to them, and when blessed with a little extra money this year, decided to bring my daughter to Canada to meet her grandparents. While on the trip we would also scatter my fathers ashes, as his desired final resting place was nearby them.

So it was a very spiritual vacation, but a very stressful vacation. Lots of driving, lots of time in airports, lots of trying really hard to speak respectfully and lovingly to my daughter at all times. Lots of failing at that.

You can swing back six years ago in this blog if you want to read what my life was like when my father died. I was still active in my addictions, and I had no idea how to grieve. And I still don't, really. I was able to make my amends to my father in front of my daughter. I mean, I saved the really big stuff for a private chat in the car with his urn, but aloud, to God and another person, I got to really do some hard Step 9.

Living amends to my grandparents, whom I've really hidden from for most of my life. I never really understood why people went to visit their families. Especially with all the bitching and complaining about it. Why go? If it makes you miserable? Well, you go because it makes THEM happy. My grandparents were delighted to see me, and they were even more delighted to see my daughter. And she was delighted to see them. The only person who was miserable was me - and to be fair, I'm miserable in most situations, so that's not a big deal. It was a hard visit - without dragging my family through the muck, they - like me - can be difficult people when their routines are upset. So it was like they WANTED us there, but didn't really LIKE us in their space. But we got through it. More step 9!

Learning a lot of things that I didn't pick up on in my last 5,6,7 - or wasn't ready to pick up on. I've got huge issues around money - yes, we all do, I know - but I've got a real selfish relationship with it. I'm struggling to learn how to be generous with my resources. I have a hoarding mentality that no longer serves me well. It was necessary to be stingy when I needed all my money for coke, but now that I have extra, why is it so hard for me to give some of it away? Maybe hoarding isn't the right word - because I don't SAVE money (I do have some savings, but only a prudent reserve) I just have trouble offering it up. I don't know how to fix this. With other things I've been able to fake it 'til you make it, but how do you develop a reasonable and healthy streak of generosity?

I'm also struggling with "unenforceable rules". The "How come I have to if no one else is going to" stuff. Traffic. People going off topic at meetings. People talking at the movies. All that "socially unacceptable behavior is a form of insanity" detail stuff. I feel like if no one else (noooo one else, riiiiight) is going to do it, I shouldn't have to either. I liked being a boor. I thought following the rules was for suckas. Waiting in line? Sucka! Just go right up to the front! Who are you going to piss off, except that idiot who's too stupid to jump the queue himself? Who cares about him? I caught myself telling my daughter that she should pretend she feels sick on the plane, because they'll move her into first class to keep an eye on her and she'll have a better seat. Am I really going to teach my daughter how to lie to get things? Probably not the best parenting moment I've ever had. So I'm wrestling with this sort of stuff today.

I would never want to go back to drinking. But I miss being oblivious sometimes. Every time it's time for me to change something, God presents more and more opportunities for me to try new ways of behaving. And I generally ignore them until they become such big lessons that I need to learn them or really suffer the consequences. More will be revealed.

Life is good, though. Really good. Like some days I can't even imagine that this is my life good. Amen to that.

2010-07-02T23:31:00.003-04:00

They say that anything you put in front of your sobriety you will lose. Work, relationship, family, etc. I don't feel like I'm putting things in front of my sobriety. I just feel totally disinterested in the program. I'm going to meetings, albeit sporadically. And I'm resentful about it more often than not - like if I hadn't been so "scared" into not quitting AA, I'd be gone by now. Dangerous thinking. I've been unhappy at church lately, too. I need a spiritual overhaul. I know the only way to get over the meeting issue is to just go to meetings. It's sort of like when you start skipping the gym -- the longer you stay away, the easier it is not go. I like routine. But I get home and I just want to be at home. I know, or at least I think I know, that I've got a daily reprieve that is contingent on my spiritual condition.

My sponsor and I talked about isolating tonight, and my refusal to make plans with people because I don't like to commit in case I don't feel like doing whatever it is that we're planning on the day we're supposed to do it. She says it's selfish.

I'd love to hear from others who struggled or are struggling with their commitment and interest in the program.

2010-06-27T18:27:00.002-04:00

Argh. Did you ever just wake up one day as a grown up? Ridiculous, I know. All of a sudden, real life is in full swing. Got a job, bought a house, Grandmother has a heart attack, need a new car, planning full family trip to Disneyland, so on and so forth. Yes, poor me. But I'm honestly just overwhelmed. Much of it came from somehow having given up my family role as the one who always messes everything up - the torch has been passed on that one, and I'm a little resentful that all of a sudden that I'm All Growed Up and Reliable. And really, a little scared that it will all get yanked out from under me when I'm not looking.

2010-05-18T15:59:00.003-04:00

Watching someone you love struggle with their addiction is hard. Alcoholism is a family disease. My family got more than their fair share. Drinking killed my father, he never found our solution. My Mom found Al-Anon, I want to say eighteen years ago-ish. She had a black belt in loving detachment by the time I hit bottom. My sister spent some time in Al-Anon, and she has her own stuff. And my brother? Well, I'm saving a seat for him.

Talking about the past with my Mom is hard - she makes living amends all the time, though. She's been a huge part of my sobriety.

Not talking about far, far back...the far past was a mess I'd rather not relive over and over again. It sucked. Like all alcoholic family stories, it was bad. But go just as far back as my mom having program and me not having program...I know now how hard it was for her to watch me go through hitting bottom.

And now I'm watching someone else do it. Same as my Mom had to. From a distance, hoping for the miracle. We talk about it. He's not ready. I hope he's ready before he's dead.

2010-04-07T08:50:00.003-04:00

I wanted to make a list of the things that I've done since God removed my obsession to drink and use cocaine...just for anyone who wonders what happens after...

1. I got my personal training and group fitness teaching certifications, and have worked and do work at several gyms doing something I love - it ensures that no matter what else I have going on, and no matter what I'm doing for work, I have a free membership at a gym. And the extra blessing for me is that I currently work at a very high end gym where I get squash privileges and discounted lessons. Huzzah.
2. I became a Muay Thai fighter, and traveled to Thailand, New York and Boston to train with amazing coaches. My record is 1-2-0. I have stopped fighting now, but I teach and train for fitness.
3. My daughter moved to another country with her dad, and I have been able to travel overseas to visit her, and have her visit me. I can stay WITH my ex husband and his family in their home when I visit there, and currently I am staying in my ex's wife's parents condo for a visit on my end of the world. I find this amazing because I spent last year in a job that paid 11 dollars an hour, and was still able - between saving carefully and friends with airmiles - see my daughter several times. And I manage to maintain relationships. I was very blessed. I married a man that loves parenting, and his new family loves my daughter as much as I do. She's thriving in school overseas, moved ahead a few years, in fact. Well-mannered and lovely. And never seen her Mother have a drink. Or a cigarette.
4. I got tattooed by Paul Booth. Twice. I have six tattoos now.
5. I went to school for community and disability support, paid for by my employers - I spent a year working with people with special needs - it was a life changing experience.
6. I've become halfway fluent in American Sign Language - started taking courses last year. I've wanted to learn since I saw a signer at church. Pre-sobriety I would have registered and not gone, or registered and dropped out, or just not registered at all. I got hired part time to work with the deaf community after my first course, and now my employer covers my ASL courses. Another blessing, considering I'm pretty broke these days!
7. I moved to another city, mostly because I was crazy, but also because I felt like it was where God wanted me to be - and in that city I really found my higher power - I was baptized a year ago, and through the church met some people who are changing my life! I volunteer at an inner city day program and a food bank now. You think you've got it rough? Come spend a couple of hours in the midwestern prairie projects. There's a cycle of addiction and poverty out here that seems almost hopeless. I mean, getting sober isn't easy for anyone, but when it's all you've ever seen and all you've ever known? I have sponsees who were prostituting themselves for crack by the age of fourteen. Can you imagine? Yeah, I made some bad decisions, and I certainly traded in sex much of my adult life - but at fourteen I was still playing with Barbies. Sure, things were messy at my house, but I was usually physically safe there - and to this date, I have only seen two people use crack cocaine...I didn't even see anyone use powder cocaine until I was in my 20s - and I didn't touch it more than a couple of times before my spiral into my bottom. So, the point? Oh, yes. I moved to another city, where I got the opportunity to be of real service, in a real way.
8. I fell in love. Yes, a few times. But as I grew and changed in the program, my idea of what love looks like changed. I fell in love with a couple of program guys, and I still love them all. And I fell in love with a man who isn't in the program (yet), and we just moved in together. If I was running down the checklist of my ideal mate, he's it. Super smart. Super fit. Funny. Attentive. Sweet. Interested in the world around him. Hot. (I feel superficial adding that one, but it was a factor, sorry!) Accepting. And I learned from program how to be a good partner. And most of the time, I am a good partner. I don't keep secrets from him, and I didn't from day one. I put everything on the table and said, here's who I am. And he said that's cool by me. And I think he may propose any day now ;)

If I'm honest - and I look at my fourth steps and 'fess up - most of what I've done in my life was to be loved by someone - anyone. And most of my issues start at "No one could possibly love me, I'm unlovable!". Exploring my relationship with God taught me a lot about forgiveness and love. God helped me find AA, and AA helped me find God. And here we are, four and a half years later - five years since I first tried to stop - and I'm amazed at the opportunities I've had access to.

Being back in my home town this month, back where I got sober, with the people who loved me sober, has been a real blessing. I was foundering a bit out west...back in that place where everyone and everything is wrong, wrong, wrong, and why won't anyone do what I want them to? Argh!

Someone suggested starting a meeting with the format I "grew up with". That's a possibility - I can commit to things now.

Anyhow - have a good 24, everyone.

2010-03-09T17:12:00.003-05:00

Times are tough in the land of plenty. That's what my Dad used to say about having luxury problems, like not knowing what to have for dinner tonight or not knowing which movie to go to, or only having fifty bucks for something that cost sixty. He was a wise man, my Dad.

2009-07-04T05:05:00.002-04:00

It's been a while. Life is good. Different, but good. I'm in a new city. I've been here a while now, and I like it here. I changed my dry date this year to reflect my usage of other drugs, which puts me at ten months yesterday. Changing your dry date is a weird experience. You get all of the "tsk tsk, she relapsed" looks without any of the actual relapse. It's very humbling. Much of it is in my head, I know. And I'm glad that I have given up everything that alters my state of being, given up everything that closes me off from the sunshine of the spirit. Even though I didn't particularly feel like I had a problem with anything else. I can keep a gram of weed in my drawer for six months. I used a couple valium here and there, a couple of Lorazepam here and there and a few ritalin here and there, and never thought anything of it...until my new sponsor asked me to tell her my story, and I immediately thought about what I WASN'T going to tell her. So I told her that first, and voila! New dry date.

I did a crazy five with the pastor of my church before I got baptised in April. It was ridiculously difficult and very liberating. I had been carrying around a lot of everything for a lot of years. I've been in AA since what, 2004? And holding on to all that shit that I was going to take with me. If you haven't done your four and five - and a good one - I suggest, strongly, that you get on with it. If I had known how it would change everything, I would have done it so much sooner.

Life's good. I'm going to college. I've got a new career in an industry I'd never have expected I'd love. I'm not obsessively exercising as much, I'm not obsessively eating as much, and I'm not sleeping with everything that moves as much. Progress. As I've heard it said in the rooms so many times...I've got four garbage cans and only three lids.

I'm not feeling all that eloquent tonight, but I felt like reaching out and touching base. How is everyone? Let me know. I have some time to troll through your blogs tonight...so here's wishing everyone a good 24.

2009-02-11T01:21:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I need to come back here to remember how bad it was, how bad I was, how broken I was at the beginning. Progress, not perfection.

2009-01-05T17:53:00.002-05:00

Really, it's been almost a year since I've posted here - I do maintain another blog these days, by the by. So I post. Just not...here. I haven't shared this url with anyone in a long time. I find it hard to read the old still active posts - but I'm not going to delete them - it reminds me of where I came from, and how far I've come. Especially helpful on days where I feel like I'm right back at the beginning. That isn't today, incidentally. Today I'm good.

So. What's new? I hit three years sober in November, and I moved to a new city shortly thereafter. It's a bit of a culture shock - considerably colder, considerably smaller. But I'm enjoying it immensely.

My last few posts had me smack-dab in the middle of yet another heartbreak-to-be, didn't they? Right after that post, maybe days after, I stopped dating entirely. I got a new sponsor, and I really believe that working with her saved my life. I was absolutely miserable around that time, probably more miserable than I had been even in very early sobriety. And I wasn't able to talk about it.

A sad thing, at that time, a friend of mine was also struggling, with more time than me in - and he chose to go out. Watching him come back was painful and awful He's back now, thank God - but it took him over six months!!!

Anyhow, fast forward to now, happy, healthy, sober. I wish everyone the best in 2009. If you're miserable - you don't have to be. There are miracles here. Come get yours.

2008-02-28T22:21:00.002-05:00

Even today, when one of my roommates has left a re-corked bottle of the wine in the refrigerator, I look at it and think "What's wrong with him? What kind of moron saves that little amount of wine?"

It's moments like that when I have to remind myself that I am an alcoholic of the hopeless variety. I can't leave a glass of wine for tomorrow. I have to drink the whole bottle, another bottle, your bottle, and then I'll call my dealer and pick up some coke, go and find myself some lower companions, run out of money and whore myself to keep the party going. That's what I did. That's who I was. That's who I AM if I take a drink. I need to remember that.

So what kind of moron leaves that much wine? The kind who can. God bless him.

Most days I don't even notice the 3/4 full bottle of wine in the fridge. It's just not my thing anymore. I notice when the milk is getting low. I notice if there aren't the kind of apples my daughter likes, or enough of the the kind of cheese she likes since that's all she really likes to snack on.

I'm moderately to very crazy these days. But I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. And it NEVER occurs to me to drink. The obsession was lifted, just like they said it would be. I will do more to show how grateful I am for the life I have today.

2008-02-19T22:45:00.000-05:00

Really, I don't know if I'm more upset by the fact that he doesn't want to be in a relationship, or upset by the fact that I do want to be one. Which I didn't want, until I met him. And I convinced myself, the way that we do, that having some was better than having none. And then everything went from bad to mexican.

It's fair to say that I don't date so much as I take hostages. And it's been a weird year. The Imaginary Boyfriend followed by the Boyfriend who isn't my Boyfriend except that he totally acts like my Boyfriend. For the sake of efficiency, let's just call him Not The Boyfriend. NTB.

NTB is pretty great guy, if you're in to guys who are smart, funny, successful, adventurous and cuddly. Not really my thing, you know. Though he got my attention by not calling me, sleeping with lots of other women and lying. Hey, nobody's perfect. Look at me! I just happen to really like emotionally unvailable men. Does that make me a bad person?

So here's where the growth part rears its' ugly head. Maybe, just maybe, I'm ready for a real connection with someone who's ready for a real connection. And perhaps that sort of connection takes work. Maybe it isn't the plug and play Big Budget Hollywood Romance type of love that I've waited to strike me like lightening. Maybe it involves putting yourself out there, getting to know someone, getting to trust someone, and then getting in to bed with someone? Perish the thought, what a great deal of work that would be. I really do like to do it in the reverse order. Even when enjoying my time with NTB, I always had this nagging pang at the back of my heart telling me to be on guard always. Which is a shitty way to live your life. I'm so tired of protecting my ego and my heart. I don't want to be with someone where I have to wonder if saying "I miss you" violates the terms of our pretend relationship. I don't want to be in pretend relationships.

Now, I don't know about you, but I only change when things hurt. And they have to be pretty uncomfortable before I start considering it, and downright level five shitstorm before I'll do anything about it. And even still, I'll sit in it for a while pulling the good that I can from it while fighting off the wolves. But the wolves come. Oh, the wolves come.

2007-10-26T11:42:00.000-04:00

There are some moments in some days where I can say to myself: "This, here, right now, this is the best it's ever been. If it never gets any better than this, I'm okay with that."

I had one of those moments in New York this week, sitting in the window of a French bistro eating pain au chocolat and drinking french press coffee while reading a Booker prize-winning novel. I was enjoying my last few hours in Manhattan before heading back to Toronto. Don't get me wrong - New York is always always always good. But there I was in New York, brand new tattoo on my thigh, shopping bags full of Christmas presents for my 7-year-old, comfortable enjoying the silence of an empty cafe.

Back when I was using, Christmas presents would have been purchased with the last paycheque closest to Christmas, in a hurried rush... and I would have been sleeping off a hangover, not enjoying a lovely breakfast. I wouldn't have had the money to get a tattoo, never mind a tattoo from a famous artist. I wouldn't have been happy sitting alone anywhere, I would have been at a bar looking for "company", not at a bistro reading a book.

I keep saying this - it's not about the money. I was just as happy having a cup of tea at a friends house last year when I was so broke I had to walk to work most days. It's about a spiritual shift, the ability to be at peace with myself, the joy that comes from simple pleasures. It's nice to have a 30 dollar breakfast. It's better to be present in that brilliant moment.

This year I was blessed with the financial means to travel. Next year may be different - but that's next year. Since I don't have a crystal ball, I'll just have to enjoy today and not worry too much about what might happen next.

2007-10-14T21:52:00.000-04:00

Working with newcomers is amazing. Really. I wish I had known before what a privilege it was. I mean, I knew, but I didn't know. If you're struggling? Go be of service. I'm taking a sponsee through the Big Book right now, and it may not be helping her (though I pray it is) but it's sure as hell helping me.

2007-10-11T09:55:00.000-04:00

What have I been up to? Mostly being crazy. As some of you may have guessed from reading the blog posts before I went into deep radio silence, I was involved in a crazy-making relationship that spread into all areas of my life. It wasn't JUST that relationship that was making me crazy, but it certainly pushed me over the edge. I didn't slip, I'm still trekking towards 2 years now - one day at a time. I'll spare you all the gory details, but suffice it to say I'm working through the steps again right now with a new sponsor, and he's suggested that perhaps I should do an al-anon fourth instead of an AA fourth this go around. Seems I have some (ahem) issues with relationships. No kidding. I've actually learned a lot about my character defects over the last six months. Ones I like, ones I don't, and more importantly, ones that cause me serious anguish.

As the relationship with UC wound me further into my own crap and further away from my spiritual path, I got seriously unhappy. Once again, I was in enormous amounts of pain. And finally, it was enough pain that I was prepared to change something. I changed sponsors - mine is moving, so it was good timing for that, started doing 90 in 90 (90 in 80 actually, because I'm leaving the country for two months in December)and began the "booking" process with my new sponsor, with the goal of doing my 5th at the end of October. Ambitious. And you know what? Working. I had to go to some extreme lengths to get out of the UC mess - not because of him, because of my own inability to not engage. He would call, I would jump. He wouldn't call, I would spiral into insanity. My behavior in all other areas of my life was getting equally insane. I was making poor decisions, I was isolating because I didn't want to talk about what was going on, I was using food as an escape. And we all know how crazy I get when I start to gain weight.

Anyhow, that's just one piece of the puzzle. I'm feeling more serene. I've reconnected with the program, reconnected with my HP, and reconnected with my AA friends.

In other news, I've dropped squash almost entirely in favor of kickboxing. I'm training hard, my first fight is in December, and then I'm going to Thailand to train there for a few months. Work has been busy and lucrative, and my employers were good with me taking the time off for it. I think it will be a life changing experience. Another reason for wanting to blitz through the steps - I want a really solid foundation beneath me before I leave the country.

I've moved. I'm sharing a home with some amazing people who are respectful of space, but who can spend time together happily. It's fantastic. None of them are program people, but all of them support me in mine.

What else? So much happened between the last post and now...for all the crazy and bad things there were an equal amount of good and amazing things. I'm off to NYC next weekend for my next tattoo - with Paul Booth - that just sort of worked out for me. I've got my first paid writing gig, and I'm really pleased with that.

I'm glad to be back blogging - I've missed it. And you.

2007-10-09T13:43:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm back. Did you miss me?

2007-07-16T09:13:00.000-04:00

Alive, well, sober, grateful. Busy.

2007-06-21T11:35:00.000-04:00

Character Defects....

I get why my relationship with WP is different from the relationships I've had with men. I look at her as an equal - I don't expect her to protect me or to save me or to care for me, I just like to be with her. I don't look at men as equals. They are "better" than I am or "not as good" as I am. The ones that are "better" I look to for salvation, and the ones that are "not as good" I use. That's messed up. Today I ask God for more faith and less fear.

2007-06-19T15:59:00.001-04:00

Not sad, not NOT sad. Not happy, not NOT happy. Not dating. Not NOT dating. Nothing is amazing, and nothing is wrong. I feel like I'm sitting in a big fat pile of so-so.

UC and I hit a point of no-return, I think. Although I have, of course, sworn him off more times than I can count. Like facebook. Or peanut butter. Or any of the other things I love to hate. And I'm not in love with him. He's a delivery vehicle. It would be like saying I love bread. I do love bread, but not as much as I like the peanut butter that goes on it. Bread is a peanut butter delivery mechanism. Like a syringe or rolling papers. He's paraphenalia. So what do I love, if not him? There's the million dollar question. I'm getting something from this, or I woudn't allow it to continue. He's a dirty secret now. I hide the fact that I engage with him at all from everyone I know. Did UC call? Who cares. Have you heard from UC? No. We are as sick as our secrets. I am as sick as my secrets. I can't seem to kick this habit. And he's not present enough to be a concern. It's all me at this point. He's left me, even if he hasn't really, he has - If the light is off, it isn't on. That's (hanging my head in shame) from a Hilary Duff song that my daughter loves. How can you hang up when the line is dead? These are the things I think about late at night. What's up with that?

In other news. Dramatic Pause. I'm dating a woman. Which is complicated. Sort of. I hereby apologize to every man I've ever dated. Women are delightful and very very difficult. Interesting. I behave completely differently with her than I would with a man. This does merit further exploration, and it's a source of much amusement for my friends. She's really lovely. I'm adjusting badly to dating a girl. Or I suppose This Girl, not all girls. She requires a great deal of care and feeding. Which I'm suprised I am willing to provide at all. If she was a man I'd be so much less...tolerant. I don't find it...flattering...I'm not feeling the need to be protective of her, she's hardly the kind of girl that needs protecting...but there's a deep hurt in her somewhere. I can see it, and I can feel it on her skin and in her kiss. She's been through terrible things, though I don't ask her about them, nor do I know that to be certain. I just feel it. She will tell me when she's ready, and if I pry I imagine she'll run. So I just stroke her hair and return her calls promptly and be...well...I suppose I be the person I'd like someone else to be if it were me. Is it empathy? Is this how you feel when you care about someone? She makes no demands of me, nor I of her. It's an easy relationship, with complicated edges. But it's nothing like what I feel when I'm with a man. Which is what? Somewhat threatened and suspicious, or completely devoid of any feeling, or entirely obsessed. Women are also....small...they feel small. It's curious and interesting to me. She's curvy and soft and small. She's evil, but she's not as evil as she thinks she is. But she has layers and layers of "keep out" over her. It's kind of like dating myself, except I'm not me when I'm around her. I'm someone else that I like better. It's cute and somewhat nauseating. I like it. But oh, the drama...

2007-06-13T16:04:00.000-04:00

Jamaica was amazing. It was hot. In every way it could be. I think Mimi summed it up most accurately when she said; "Goodbye Manifesto, hello FIESTA!" I did plan on that happening, in fact, I went there with those exact intentions. I just didn't expect deviance in such an abundance. Now, I'll spare you the details, although I know you wish I wouldn't (I'm talking to you, Bruce!), and just say that a good time was had. Repeatedly.

Now I'm back in Toronto. UC emailed while I was in Jamaica, and we've since stopped talking completely. My, things come and go so quickly here. The Crush and I sorted that out and ended it before I left. So that's the love life.

And work? Facebook has taken over my life. Hello new addiction.

2007-06-03T08:25:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm off to Jamaica today. Looking forward to a week in the sun - not like there isn't enough sun in Tdot right now - yesterday was scorching.

Life is good. How bad can life be when you're off to Jamaica all-in and all-expenses-paid? Going to Hedo 2, which I've been to before. I've turned down a few offers to go to Hedo over the past couple of years, but this time friends that don't party are going, and that seems to me like a good bet. I'm going to try to find some other folks in recovery at the resort, hopefully there will be a meeting or two in Negril, or I can just chair one. I downloaded speaker podcasts to my ipod - one for every day I'm away, just in case, and I packed the Big Book and the 12/12 before anything else. I've been to a bunch of meetings this week. I did have a little stumble in this planning process. I didn't tell my sponsor that I was going. I didn't ask her what she thought of it, and worse, when I called her, I didn't tell her. Then I called her back to tell her. Gah. I'm still a liar. I didn't want to be told that I couldn't go, or that I shouldn't go. I'm still willful. Sigh. My sponsor isn't my mother, I don't need her permission to do things. But if I'm not going to talk to my sponsor, or be honest with my sponsor, why bother having a sponsor at all?

What else is new? Work is good. My contract has been renewed, and I'm getting used to working for a living again. I like it, but I find it difficult to stay focused for an entire 8 hour work day.

UC is still maintaining complete radio silence. God doing for me what I can't do for myself. And with that comes some relief - at least one of us has the sense God gave a goat. On the other hand, I miss him. I suppose it wasn't love, but it was something, and I miss him. Love. I guess I loved who he had been, not who he turned in to. And I suppose I thought we could just pick up where we left off. In reality, we were two completely different people trying to glue something back together. What were the odds that it would work out? But I miss him anyhow. Logic schmogic.

The Crush burned bright and burned out. I like him. I just don't like him, like him. I mean, it was all new car smell, but like my sponsor is wont to point out, I can't really form a meaningful relationship with another human being. I live in the land of "I love you, go away!", and quite frankly, I kind of like it here. It may not be the best neighborhood, but the rent is cheap and it's relatively safe at night.

Well, blogger world, I'm all waxed and polished and ready for a week in the sun. Will check in if it's convenient. Safe 24s, my darlings.

2007-05-26T09:30:00.000-04:00

Just not very inspired lately, I'm afraid. All is well, more or less. Mostly more, which is nice.

2007-05-18T11:32:00.000-04:00

Greetings from Chicago. Have a very little bit of work to get done before I can storm the city. S was kind enough to lend me an office, and we're going to go dig into great big size of your head pastrami sandwiches at Perry's in about an hour. Then? Who knows, and who cares? We'll just do the city. I'm going to drop off the internets until Tuesday after this - so to all of you a very grand May 24 weekend, be safe and have fun.

2007-05-16T13:36:00.000-04:00

Sigh.

Life just goes on. That's what happens. The world doesn't explode, the earth doesn't move. Life just goes on. And life is good, to be really fair. I have a great job right now. I go to work when I want, I work as long as I feel like working for, I take time when I want it. I'm trying to focus hard on my program, my friends, my real life. I hate how much space he has in my head. How so much nothing gets so much real estate. I was feeling sad and wistful thismorning - funny, because I'm enjoying my life immensely right now - and realized that I have a more loving relationship with the guy who makes my latte in the morning than I do with UC. And that should tell me something. I feel like Ed (latte guy) genuinely looks forward to seeing me in the morning, and goes out of his way to make my day better. Isn't that amazing? Shouldn't that be eye-opening and revelation forming?

In other news, as the UC saga winds to it's sad and non-dramatic end, I have a teenytiny little crush on a boy from AA. Okay, it's more than a teenytiny crush, it's a great big crush. But it started long before the UC drama began. Writing this now, I feel like you're all saying "oh look, she's replacing that for that...." which I am NOT doing. I'm just enjoying being crushed on. And reciprocating. Just a little. I went with him to get tattooed last night. Watching someone get a tattoo is almost as amazing as getting one, by the way. I'm two sits into my back piece, and I love it. I'm hooked. So is he, and sharing that with him was really cool. We haven't thought of an identifying moniker for The Crush yet. So, be advised, he's The Crush until further notice.

Anyhow, The Crush and I have seen a lot of each other lately - at meetings, at random, at prearranged places and times...he's newly single, I'm still stuck in a shitpile I can't get my foot out of, and based on these things, we have agreed to not-date. Now, to be fair, not-dating is a lot like dating so far, except there is no physical interaction whatsoever. And no angst. And lots of silliness and giggling and secret sideways glancing. Remember what having a crush on someone was like way back before sex was part of the equation? That's what this is like. In a word? Delightful. Refreshing. Fun. Okay, so three words.

Work is....less productive than I would like it to be. Thank you, Facebook.

The Carrie Manifesto stands. I just keep trying harder. It comes and goes. With my will, no doubt.

Off to Chicago for the long weekend, which I'm really really really looking forward to. A break from all this. I'm going to keep my phone off, stay away from the computer completely, eat until I can't eat no more, run along the waterfront, workout, shop the vintage stores and the Mile, and just generally chill out. Staying with S, and his place is like a hotel - he'll probably play the piano and we'll sing and laugh and eat cheese and sit on the patio and have long talks about what's wrong with us. I love Chicago.

Thanks to everyone for kind words and support. I know I've been insane around this UC thing. It's been a train wreck of a thing, hasn't it? Watching it must have been as awful as living in it. But of course, I wouldn't listen to any of you. People have recommended checking out SLAA - which I did, online - and to be honest, I think I'm going to keep all my eggs in the AA basket and just work the steps around this issue, the way I do with food when I remember to.

I'm writing a lot right now. Trying to write every day, both in my journal, and just for practise. I can see things taking a shape that I like. It's a great outlet for me. I may post some of the things I really like so far in this blog, or maybe I'll set up another one elsewhere for my creative missives.

Happy 24 my friends.

2007-05-07T13:31:00.000-04:00

I finally called my sponsor. And met with my sponsor. And asked for help from my sponsor. Imagine!

2007-05-02T11:00:00.000-04:00

Today is the day.

Today I permanently mark myself in remembrance of the past, and in celebration of the present.

I'm excited. I'm afraid. I'm sad. I'm ecstatic. I'm ready.

Daily Reflections was quite appropriate today.

I don't know why I thought I'd get anything done at the office today. I'm all over the place.

2007-04-30T17:14:00.000-04:00

Countdown to tattoo: 2 more sleeps. I'm! so! excited!

So, UC and I had another big blowup last night. So much for Carrie Manifesto. But! Progress not perfection. I don't have to scrap the manifesto just because I can't follow it perfectly yet. Rome wasn't built in a day. This may have been the knockout punch, only time will tell.

2007-04-25T09:43:00.000-04:00

First of all, my name isn't Holly.
I'm tired of being Holly.
My name is Carrie, and I'm an alcoholic.
And to my suprise, this is about all I know about Carrie:
I'm an alcoholic and cocaine addict of the hopeless variety.
I'm also bulimic, and codependent.

I have spent my entire life being someone else. And frankly,
I don't much like that person. I've spent a lot of time lately
thinking about what I want, what I like, and who I am.

Here is my Carrie Manifesto - this is the person I am, one day at a time, trying to become:

Regarding God:

I show my gratitude daily through actions and prayer, and celebrate my spirituality by attending my church regularly. I support the church financially where I can, and through
volunteering.

Regarding AA:

I keep my service commitments. I reach out to newcomers and anyone else who needs my help. I call my sponsor regularly. I work my program. I don't work your program for you. I contribute financially to the best of my ability. I attend as many meetings as I can. I ask for help when I need it.

Regarding Family:

I am a good parent. I lead by example, keep my family
commitments no matter what, and put the needs of my child ahead of my own. I
support my child financially to the best of my ability. I am encouraging,
never disparaging, and open minded. I am always kind to my ex and helpful to his
family in any way I can be. I tell my daughter that I love her every chance
I get, and show her that I love her unconditionally through my actions.

I am a good daughter. I am a good sister. I am helpful, supportive and thoughtful.
I keep in regular contact with my family, even when I don't feel like it. I
remember birthdays and special occasions and acknowledge them, even if it's only with
a card. I make every effort to attend important family gatherings.

Regarding Romantic Relationships:

I love with abandon. I love actively. I think of ways to make my partners' life
better and happier - little ways, big ways, and I do those things.
I don't put up walls when I get hurt and snatch my love back like it was a
television remote. I open myself up for the possibility of great joy, and I accept
the risk that great joy can lead to great heartache. At the same time,
I do not allow myself to be treated poorly. The partners I choose are
as loving, as capable of loving, and as hellbent for joy as I am. I do not
let "maybe's" and "what if's" govern my relationships. I do not fix people, I do
not wait for the light at the end of the tunnel. I do work hard to keep healthy
relationships healthy.

I do not sleep around. I don't use sex as a way to get what I want,
or as a way to get attention, or as a revenge plot, or as a time-filler. I
only share my body with someone I love, who loves me back, and who treats me with
respect. I don't have casual sex. At all. I am monogamous and faithful. And not grudgingly so.

Regarding Friends:

I surround myself with people who support and encourage me. My friends have
similar goals. I can call my friends any time of the day or night, and they know they
may do the same if they need me. I actively love my friends and communicate openly with them. I avoid toxic and negative people. I am not a toxic or negative person. I do not gossip.
I do not take your inventory. I do not need to be right all the time. My friends can depend
on me. I am true to my word.

Regarding Work:

I work the number of hours I am paid to work. I work to the best of my ability. I respect my
employers and superiors. I respect my employees and contractors. I am honest. I am reliable.
I take pride in a job well done. I do not cut corners. I go the extra mile for a client
when necessary. I do not say "yes" unless I know for certain I can do something. I do not
put money ahead of serenity or happiness.

Regarding Toothpaste:

I am out of toothpaste. I will pick some up on the way home from work.

All kidding aside, I share this with all of you in the hopes that you will all call me on my bullshit.

2007-04-24T10:34:00.000-04:00

I had an "a-ha!" moment yesterday. My sponsor is right. I'm looking for the loophole. The thing that makes me different from everyone else in recovery. The thing that says "I know this isn't okay for YOU to do, but it's okay for ME, because I'm different!" The thing that says it might be okay to still make porn, or the thing that says that working 10 hours and billing 20 is okay. Or the thing that says dating for fun and profit is still acceptable. That it might be okay to smoke pot, or do E at that party next weekend, or skip that meeting to hang out with my party friends, or sleep with someone else because I'm mad at UC and he's not doing what I want him to do. The thing that says it's okay to do any of the things that aren't okay! I am quite certain that I know what I need to do in any situation is most of the time - I just disregard it in favour of what I want to do.

The litmus tests:

Is this worth losing my sobriety over?
Am I honouring myself with this decision?
Am I honouring God with this decision?
Am I setting a good example with this decision?
Would I be ashamed to tell my mother about this?
Would I want my daughter behaving like this?

Compliance vs. surrender. Am I doing what I'm told, am I listening to God, am I doing His Will Always? Or am I doing what I want and then trying to justify it?

The spiritual life isn't a theory - we have to live it. I'm not living it. Not at all. But the great thing is, I can start right now. Right this minute. Nothing has to change but my behaviour. I don't have to wait for anything to happen, I just have to do it.

2007-04-19T15:01:00.000-04:00

Listening to AA speakers via podcast while I dig holes all day. Heard something great today that I thought I would share with you:

"There is a difference between compliance and surrender."

Think about that.

Also listening to "great speeches in history" and "biographies". Me dig good, me get smarter.

I also found a podcast by www.xxxchurch.com - check it out, it's cool.

2007-04-16T20:22:00.000-04:00

All quiet on the western front.

I played some Frickin' Fantastic Frickin' Squash this weekend. Had a great weekend with my daughter. Went to lots of meetings and got to participate in a 5 year medallion.

UC is present and accounted for. Funny that, since I met someone at the tournament this weekend that in another place and time would have been The Perfect Man For Me. 6'5", an "A" level squash player, enterprise software sales exec, divorced with kids my daughter's age, just starting to explore kink...and, get this...3 years sober in the rooms of AA. Can you imagine? We did have great chemistry, too. Make each other blush chemistry. Strange that the minute Hot Squash Guy walks in, UC shows up and sticks around. I'm just Next Right Thinging it. Old Holly doesn't put all her eggs in one basket. New Holly doesn't have a plan B, she's all in with both feet. Even while the ground gives out beneath her. Love doesn't have a backup plan. If you want what you've never had, you have to do what you've never done, right?

My sponsor and I are going back to the beginning - 1,2,3ing it. She feels I'm still looking for the loophole. I've been spending time in crazy places with crazy people. I finally asked for some help. I feel...better...ish. Less crazy, anyhow. I know this: if I drink my life becomes shitty. If I use my life becomes shitty. These are the facts, and they are undisputed.

In other news, I've been doing some construction work, which I'm loving - it's like going to the gym all day. I'm also starting a new sales contract this week. Big changes. Which always freak me out. Change bad for alcoholics, this one especially. I don't do so good with variables. I like my routines. It's okay. It's okay.

2007-04-12T09:46:00.000-04:00

One visit to Boston later, all is good in the world - which had nothing to do with Boston, but Boston was great. There was a fancy hotel suite, a mechanical bull, stripper poles, lobster schnitzel, artisanal cheese, a visit with Mom (should be on the top of the list), a brand new red Mustang (cuz that's how we roll, baby), and a trip to Filene's Basement. Throw in naked dimsum, a white chocolate Lindt rabbit, an orange hair dye incident, a 24 in 24 marathon and joining the Mile High Club, and that's pretty much my Easter. Also another messy breakup with UC. Which kicked off everything else. When I finally came up for air and realized that I was, in fact, behaving in a completely non-sober fashion, I got my ass to a meeting. And then several more after that. The crazy finally broke on Wednesday. It was like a tidal wave of insanity hit me square on, and I couldn't get my head up over the water. Then it was gone. Just like that. Now back on track, working my program, working period - I was enjoying a brief stint of Funemployment. Turns out that idle hands really ARE the devils playground. I need to work to not be insane - having that extra eight hours a day to fill just brings trouble.

Yes, I know I don't SOUND very sober right now, but I'm doing my best, praying for the willingness to work harder at making my amends, praying for the willingness to deal with the character defects that keep me in such crazy places. At least I recognize the crazy, even if I can't save myself from it. And when people who care about me tell me they're worried about me, I don't pooh-pooh them. I listen to them. They're right. The next stop on the crazy train could most definitely be a barstool.

My friend AP celebrated 5 years two days ago, and he's asked me to participate in his medallion, which is amazing to me. AP is the man who 12 stepped me and gave me my big book and 12 and 12. I actually don't know if he reads my blog, but I thank God for him every day - he helped save my life, and I love him immensely. And I actually tell him that as often as I can.

In other news - Facebook - or CrackBook, as we call it in my circle, has me in it's clutches. If you're not on it yet, take my advice and run in the other direction. It will get you. You think you're strong enough to resist its' seductive siren song, but better than you have tried and failed. Get out. Get out while you still can.

2007-03-30T09:54:00.001-04:00

The drama continues. I still have a bad case of the blue flu.

2007-03-21T14:47:00.000-04:00

90 day challenge.

My friend AH, who is currently in Oz doing his masters degree, or whatever it is that you call that (taking his masters, studying his masters, what not) and I have made a pact that we are not going to date, try to date, think about dating, or have any sex of any kind with anyone for 90 days. Rather, I have challenged him to it, and I'm going to do it anyhow. I need to refocus my program, and dating is just getting in the way of everything. It's making me crazy, and it's making me resentful, and it's making me all of the things that get me that much closer to that first drink. He needs to not fuck up at school, and of course he is who he is and dating is always problematic and all-consuming for him. So here's hoping we'll both reap the benefits of clear heads when we take our hormones out of the way.

I tried the whole celibacy thing earlier in the year, you may recall - until UC came along and blew that to pieces. I think 90 days is a reasonable amount of time. That takes me to June 21 - and bikini season. With all the training I'll be doing while not getting laid I ought to be buff as hell by then. More so than I am now, which is pretty buff.

2007-03-19T13:09:00.000-04:00

Hola Blogger World...

Sorry it's been so long - training, work, family, studying - all have taken my time away from the internet, which is a good thing.

The Ontario Regional Conference was this weekend, and it was So F*cking AMAZING. I just feel like one great big spiritual ball of joy right now. If you search for "ontario regional conference" in my blog you can see how I felt last year - overwhelmed and crazy - and I just can't believe the difference this year.

I didn't go Friday - I had my daughter. I headed over Saturday morning after dropping her off at her Dad's - I had a volunteer shift. It did take some prayer and meditation to get me out the door - I only had thirty bucks left, and I thought the conference was forty, so was anxious about going, as you have to pay to volunteer, and I wasn't sure that I was all that willing to walk to work and back all week in exchange for a two hour volunteer shift that I really didn't want to do anyhow. But God said "go!" so I went. And it turns out admission was thirty bucks, not forty. (And the next day someone who owed me fifty bucks gave it back to me, so I have my metropass to boot, way to go God!)

En route to ORC I bump in to UC - I don't bump into him working in over ten years, and then he breaks up with me and I bump into him, go figure. So the start of the conference was a bit shaky.

Anyhow, I get asked to work the information desk, which I do, and a really (really, trust me on this one) hot guy comes up and asks for directions to a convenience store to buy cigarettes, and he's flirting shamelessly. I send him off for his cigarettes, and doesn't he come back a few minutes later to chat again. Long story short, he's only 34 days clean off the crack. Ha ha HP, very funny. Here I am thinking HP sent me a little gift. And it turns out it was a huge gift. Sure it wasn't what I wanted, but it sure was what I needed. I had an amazing day at the ORC, and took JG to Saturday Night Live to pick up his 30 day CA keytag. Then we went to the dance and had a blast. I rode his pinkcloud all the way through that day - it was contagious. There was some sadness - one of the guys JG went through treatment with drank that night while we were at CA, he didn't want to join us for the meeting. It shook him up some, but we soldiered on and it was a really great evening. As much fun as I've ever had at an AA dance, for sure.

I'm full of joy and gratitude today - riding the wave as long as I can.

And of course, UC called that night. And who knows what that means? I'm focusing my attention elsewhere right now, so he'll just have to wait it out. LOL. I'm so full of shit, I called him back immediately. ;)

2007-03-09T08:52:00.000-05:00

Feeling less crazy today, for the first time in a long time. What am I doing differently? More meetings. Early morning meetings. Praying. Praying like a motherfucker. Training harder, thinking less. I'm just going to row the boat and keep my hand off the tiller. Not dating.

For anyone who wants to know how it ended with UC, it ended.

2007-03-04T14:10:00.000-05:00

Well, the month of February came and went in a whirlwind of dysfunction. Dating UC was much like trying to stuff a large angry wet octopus into a small net bag. Just think for a moment about how exactly that would look and feel. That's exactly how it *did* look and feel. There are moments when you think you've got it all in there, and then a couple of tentacles pop out and smack your face. Or your ass. But that's a whole different story, isn't it?

Turns out that UC gets pretty anxious when he has to spend more than a couple of hours in a row with someone. He gets anxious when someone else is in his home. He gets anxious when he isn't in his home. It must be truly horrible.

Here you are, you find that you are once again in love with the girl that totally fucked you over ten years earlier, and it turns out, that she's still in to you, too. You want to be around her so desperately that you step out of your comfort zone, only to find out that you're so miserable outside your comfort zone that you have to immediately retreat. Ad nauseum.

Being the other side of that coin is shitty, I won't lie to you about that, but imagine how HE must feel.

Plenty of my own crazy prevented me from doing all sorts of things that I would have liked to have done. When I was drinking (which is my particular brand of crazy, right?) I wouldn't do anything that kept me away from a glass of wine for too long.

I was always so afraid to try new things. I wanted to sing Karaoke, but I didn't want people to laugh at me. I wanted to audition for a play, but I didn't want people to laugh at me. I wanted to write, but I didn't want people to laugh at me. That's my fear, I guess - I don't want to fail at things, but more importantly, I don't want to publicly fail at things. So I just never tried anything. Unless I could drink myself into it, and then I could do those things. And sometimes once I was used to doing them drunk, I could do them sober if I had to.

Fear protects us, and then it consumes us. Like alcohol.

2007-02-22T18:56:00.000-05:00

I spent yet another day on itunes, downloading sappy country ballads to help me wallow in my misery, and came across this Faith Hill song called "When the Lights Go Down", and I don't think I'd ever really listened to it - lyrics follow:

"When the lights go down
And there's nothing left to be
When the lights go down
And the truth is all you see
When you feel that hole
Inside your soul
Wonder what you're made of
Well we all find out
When the lights go down"

The whole song seems to be about an alcoholic trying to fill that void and realizing there's nothing there, and Man, I can relate to that.

The upside to another failed relationship - really not another failed relationship, because this relationship failed ten years ago, and it looks like we just stoked the ashes a little before letting it die out completely....

Anyhow, the upside is this: the heart is a muscle, and you need to use it regularly in order for it not to atrophy. Every time you use it, it grows stronger and more capable. Progression. Specific Adaptation to Implied Demand. Use it or lose it. In order to be better at loving, you have to love harder and more often and for longer periods of time. And yes, like any other muscle you push hard you'll pull it and strain it along the way, but it will heal. And that's what makes this so great. It's just practise for when I meet The Great Love of My Life.

2007-02-22T11:12:00.000-05:00

On Boxing.

It’s nothing personal. I don’t mind when you connect. It hurts, but it feels good to me. The adrenalin and the endorphins rush to my aid and I pulse with a strange kind of pleasure. It’s better than booze, it’s better than blow, it’s better than the best sex I’ve ever had. The punches chip away layers of pain. They scrape me clean of filth left behind from years of angry, ugly things. A right hook to the temple pares away a tiny sliver of shame, and a cross to the forehead rubs off a stain of humiliation. It is cathartic, and it is absolution. Anger leaves me through my exhaustion, little puddles of hatred seep out through my pores and are left behind on the mat. Win or lose I walk away better for the experience. So go ahead, take your best shot. I will return the favor.

2007-02-15T16:06:00.000-05:00

Dating is crazy-making, in case you wondered.

I really doubt my ability to be in a functional relationship. Fortunately for me, this latest relationship (if you want to call it that) is completely dysfunctional, so I feel right at home.

He makes plans. I shuffle my day around. He cancels plans. I get angry.

What's the definition of insanity again?

2007-02-14T13:05:00.000-05:00

Just sent off a "please get in touch with me so that I can make formal amends to you and your family" note. Nerve wracking.

2007-02-14T11:43:00.000-05:00

Who doesn't love a snow day?

I'm taking my own snow day today. My morning class cancelled due to weather, both my afternoon training clients had other things to deal with today. That leaves me with an unprecedented free day. I slept in until the glorious hour of 6:30 AM, awoken by a phone call from UC (not his real initals, but the initials of the nickname I've given him) which was lovely. He's on nights right now. His insane OCD and his busy and entirely unpredictable schedule clashes with my own busy schedule and my need to have plans made and kept. As I put it yesterday when asked on a date; "I'm sorry, but I'm not seeing someone now." It's like that, and that's the way it is.

It took me an hour to find the Starbucks that I wanted to spend my day at. The first one, my favourite one - the old Britnell's bookstore at Yonge/Bloor was closed due to pipes bursting. Then I ended up at Jarvis/Bloor when I couldn't deal with the throngs of people on the subway thismorning and went east instead of west. It's a yucky Starbucks. Too cold, too badly painted. Trudged through the snow to the Church/Wellesley, my old stomping grounds, and planted myself on a comfy couch. Where I still am, two hours and two venti bolds later.

I don't know what makes me suddenly able to roll with it as far as UC goes. I couldn't do it with CS at all. I resented his commitments and the way he filled his life with so many things outside of us and our relationship. I suppose it was my own fear and ego - he doesn't love me, he'd rather be doing something else, blah blah blah. I'm sure CS loved me, and it was all my own shit. I could just never let go of trying to control his life. Even now I find it hard to deal with him and his inability to make and keep plans with me. And in waltzes UC with an even worse case of "can't make or keep plans", and it doesn't seem to matter so much. It did matter at the beginning - I did turf him for the continually bailing on plans - and then suddenly it didn't matter anymore. He's doing what he does and living his life. I like my life. I like him. If the two can co-exist, lovely. If not, that's ok too. Today it's all good. It's Valentines Day.

And what does HP say about this whole thing? He says stay sober and live your life. He says be kind and honest. Don't do things that hurt others, don't do things that hurt you.

And what does my sponsor say about this whole thing? Eep. I haven't talked to her about it. I know, I know. I know!!! I'll talk to her about it. Eventually.

So Happy Valentine's Day to you! And to me! I have to work tonight. But today is my snow day and I'm going to chill the fuck out.

Which brings us to my issue with profanity. I really really really need to lay off the potty mouth.

2007-02-13T17:48:00.000-05:00

I feel sleek and dynamic. Like a sportscar. A shiny one. Crazy. For once in my life I'm almost happy with my body. Body image is a weird thing. I wonder how many women had self esteem and body image issues before they picked up that first drink. When I drank I was mad sexy, you understand. I was desirable and beautiful and hot. Men loved me, which was, of course, the whole point. I was bold and I was gregarious and full of flirt and fire.

I made a good, and sometimes great, living off of my looks and my body. All closely linked. Not enough to have one man desire me, you must all desire me - especially the ones that really don't.

And once you ARE attracted to me, there must be something wrong with YOU, so please go away now. Pay attention to me! Why are you looking at me? Add more booze, and a little blow, and you have a volatile recipe for disaster and grief.

At a bar in New York a few St. Patricks Days' ago, I got in to a - transgression - a discussion - an altercation - with a man at the bar. Maybe touched on it here, maybe not. Too lazy to go back and look. Recap. At the beginning of the night I am flirty madly with him, I imagine. Later in the evening, in full blackout drive, I have forgotten how intimate we had been earlier in the evening. He approaches me again, in the same fashion, and I tell him to go fuck himself and why is he bothering me? He berates me to the point of tears. And had no idea why he was doing it, until phrases that I had said earlier in the evening - things for sure I said, because they were things that I always say - came spewing out of his mouth. Humiliating for sure, humbling, embarrassing, all of these things. A product of my issues - pay attention to me, stop looking at me.

Sobriety has brought a lot of things to the surface. Body image, appropriate sexual behaviours (whatever that means), my desire for approval of any kind, and getting it in the fastest way possible, which is of course, the worst way possible. I made a career, more or less, of being good in bed. Men loved fucking me. I knew that. I got better and better at it, and got further and further away from my own needs and desires. In sobriety I'm trying to put those pieces back together. It's disturbing and difficult.

I crave intimacy, but fear vulnerability. You can't really have one without the other.

Which leads me to the latest in the saga. I'm head over heels right now. With someone I was in love with a lot of years ago. Who is still in love with me. This is at best confusing and at worst slippery. And while I ask HP to take away this particular obsession (in kind of a half-hearted fashion, as I'm enjoying the ride) I also ask HP to give me the capability to Love Someone Else. In a romantic unselfish non-familial way.

Anyhow, this all started out as me saying I was currently very happy with the shape of me, which is, quite frankly, tank-shaped. I am a brick wall. I love it. I also got a very short shave of a haircut, which I like. I'm completely androgynous right now. Which someone pointed out to me, and which is why I've been thinking so much about it. What's the point of looking so masculine, why is that I'm making myself so completely un-girly? Is it because I spent so many years relying on my pretty face and perfect tits? I'm not going to analyze it too much. I like how I look. I look like me.

I respect my body these days - if you ignore the overtraining, of course - but I feed it, and I rest it, and I build it. And it does what I want it to do. It does it fast, it does it long, and it does it pretty damn well. It's still about the aesthetic, but it's also about function and performance now. And the further I move away from former the more I can focus on the latter. De-girlifying is not about hiding from my sexuality. I embrace that wholeheartedly. I can stand up and say "this is what I want and what I like, and I'm not going to be ashamed of it". It is about moving away from being pretty on the outside to hide the ugly on the inside. The inside looks good right now. And that shows on the outside, regardless of my shape or size. I don't need to conform to maintstream attractive anymore. I don't need you to love me, or find me beautiful. It's truly liberating.

2007-02-09T11:44:00.000-05:00

You know, sometimes everything seems manageable. Sometimes everything seems unbearable. At the end of the day when I'm still sober and falling asleep I often wonder what the hell the big whoop was anyhow.

My favourite part of every day is waking up. Early, not early, no matter. Opening my eyes and having a whole new day to play with. This day can be better than the one before. My choice. My days start and end pretty early now.

I've been trying to talk myself in to going to a meeting for the last hour. Somehow I've become belligerent today. Mad at work, mad at Guy Who Hasn't Called Me, mad at Friend Who Cancelled Plans Yesterday, mad mad mad.

Ha. That reminds me of my fourth list. There were people I resented who just had Monikers. Maybe I've mentioned this already. Once I found an envelope in my apartment that had what looked like a weird grocery list. It was a list I had made when I didn't have my fourth workbook with me. Ah, resentments. Bring on the serenity. I'm off to Sanctuary. Maybe I can do some good for someone today. Get out of my own head and help another alcoholic.

7 minutes to meeting, I can totally make it. And I'll probably miss the preamble to boot. Stellar.

2007-02-05T07:45:00.000-05:00

"With a name like Dani California, the day was going to come when I was going to mourn ya..."

2007-02-02T12:41:00.000-05:00

When they were up they were up, and when they were down they were down, and when they were only halfway up they were neither up nor down.

That's how I feel right now. Stuck.

I'm trying to make my amends. I made formal amends to one of my ex's from years back a few days ago. Then I banged him. Something tells me that wasn't so spiritually sound. I'd call my sponsor, but I know what she'll say. Eep. Making formal amends to one of my ex-bosses on Monday. Will try not to bang him. Big Alex says: "Don't you owe ME amends?". Ha.

Anyhow. It's been a crazy January. I worked more hours than I should have, fell in love with fighting, went to New York for another squash tournament, started writing again (Thanks God for Bruce!), turned down some work in the adult industry (God says no sucking cock for money) and well, that's been my month in a nutshell.

I'm obviously still crazy. The ex-boyfriend thing was a quick crazy whirlwind of a new kind of insanity. He stated he was still in mad love, I stated we could have dinner, he rescheduled said dinner four or five times, I made an amends, we went to bed, it was unbelievable - possibly in the top ten sexual experiences of my life, and definitely the best sober sexual experience I've ever had - he rescheduled yet again, and I handed him his walking papers. This is the Coles Notes of what happened - I'll save

Was it him? Was it me? What the? Who knows. Who cares. Waiting to hear from him was like waiting for my dealer to show up, and I don't need that shit.

2007-01-30T16:19:00.000-05:00

Everything hurts. I'm overtraining like mad. Of course, the only way I know how to do anything is to excess, and as a result I just want to climb into a big bathtub full of ice for about a week. All Advil, All The Time.

2007-01-29T15:08:00.000-05:00

I will cover myself in ink.
It will tell you my story, it will save me both breath and the vocabulary.
You will want to trace the lines with your fingertip.
And it will take you all day.

2007-01-24T16:02:00.000-05:00

Come back to me.
Let us pretend that I didn't do that, and that you never said that.
Put your head in my lap and we will talk of the future.
It will be as it was before. When we were all big eyes and wide mouths and bare skin.
You will talk of your dreams and I will nod my head and listen and believe.
I will not scoff, and you will not run, and we will not post nor parry, but take it all on the chin and go down hard.
We will sleep poured over one another like thick syrup, promises pooling on the damp sheets.
We will be brave and not proud and full of uncertain joy.
It will be different. You'll see.
It will be what it would have been if you weren't you.
And I wasn't me.

(note to Gwen, I did write this one)

2007-01-22T19:58:00.000-05:00

Okay, first of all, big apologies to everyone who emailed me at my yahoo account that I don't ever check. Your notes were read today when I checked the account while killing some time. Was having a horrible day and it totally turned me around to read the amazing comments you all made - and notes from people in other countries who found my blogs while googling different things. I'm blown away by it. And I'm happy to report that I AM going to continue blogging here. I love all of you.

2007-01-03T15:38:00.000-05:00

It's a crazy week for me - double shifts and just started teaching in the mornings.

Dear blogger friends, I've made the decision to quit blogging here. I will leave the blog up, but I'm going to start blogging under a different name, and not use my porn pseudonym any longer. I want to incorporate more real life identifying details, and at some point need to seperate my porn life from my real life. When I started this blog I was bragging about my crazy drunk exploits and shooting porn regularly. Then I chronicled my struggle to get sober. And now I'd like to blog differently, and while I'm not ashamed of my past, or my present, as I'm still shooting here and there, I would like to be able to blog at will without risk of a student or coworker identifying me.

Please give me a way to contact you if you would like my new blog url. I won't be sharing it with everyone, or anyone anonymous - so if we're friends in real life or in the blogosphere, and you'd like to keep track of me - let me know :)

Thanks to all of you who helped me through the most difficult period in my life (so far!)

So long, and thanks for all the fish!

2006-12-29T16:26:00.000-05:00

Wow, it's been a while - I don't have internet access at home or at work - so if I want to blog I need to go hang out at a cafe (like I am now).

I'm sober, it's all good, quite frankly I'd be happier if everyone stopped using Christmas as an excuse for everything. It's Christmas, fucking deal with it. It's going to come, it's going to go, and it will be the same as it always is unless you do something differently.

Living alone is good, but weird.

I'm not just sober - I'm Sober, and I love it.

2006-12-13T08:08:00.000-05:00

Freakin' Resentful!

I get to walk back and forth to work and to meetings this week (and I live over an hour walk from work, by the way) while my new sponsee skips the meetings she committed to going to with the bus pass I bought her.

On the other hand, having a sponsee (if only for three days) got me to take a good look at how I'm working my own program. So I'm dropping my sponsee today. I've done a fourth around the resentment, I've talked to my HP, and she's going to have to find someone else to work with.

2006-12-10T17:27:00.000-05:00

So, I'm in my new "I'm a sober grown up who is self supporting through her own contributions" bachelor pad. It's cute, but small.

I am unemployed and a little concerned about how I'm going to pay rent for January at this point. I currently have thirty bucks to my name, and with it I am buying a bus pass for my new sponsee (yes, you heard that right) so that she'll be able to go to meetings and meet me to start reading the big book. However, and there's always a however, I do get paid on Thursday, I do have a cheque that my ex is kindly going to let me keep that rightfully belongs to him, and who knows what will happen between now and then? I'm giving it to God - He'll do His part and I'll do mine, which in this situation means being fiscally responsible and actively looking for opportunities to make money in spiritually sound ways between now and the end of the month. I say spiritually sound to remind myself that I don't think my Higher Power wants me making porn.

Anyhow, I'm deliriously happy - even if the blurb above makes it seem otherwise. I have groceries a-plenty (and just realized yesterday that I have nothing to cook with - it took me over a week to realize I don't have pots and pans - that's how often I eat things that require preparation!) and I'm completely able to walk wherever I need to go until I can afford the subway again. I honestly didn't do the math when I promised my sponsee a bus pass, I thought I had more cash - so I wasn't really making a grand gesture, you understand - I just forgot how broke I was.

I don't have internet access or cable - nor am I going to get either of these things. I'm at a cafe right now, enjoying the only coffee I've purchased in the past couple of days.

If HP had thrown this financial insecurity at me a year ago there's no way I'd be dealing with it this well. I guess I have a better outlook on life now. Broke is okay.

Other things are good. I'm going to be teaching classes in the new year at a club - for free - but in exchange I get to train there without extra fees, and bring any of my clients in there with no payout to the club. Sweet deal. I'm leaning towards doing that instead of going full time at the club I work at now. No need to decide right away. I'm also thinking about doing drop in pay-what-you-can fitness classes for people in recovery. I know that working out kept me sane this last year, and my body liked me doing good things for it, and a lot of people coming in to recovery don't know how to eat properly and haven't exercised in years. If I do it in off peak times during the day it won't disrupt club operations and it would give people something to do in between meetings.

What else, what else?

I dunno. Life is good. I feel good. I have moments, but they pass if I allow them to.

2006-12-03T00:24:00.000-05:00

I went to a party tonight - an "adult" type party with friends from back in the day. Not party friends, just friends. The party was lame, with everyone waiting until they got trashed before anything was going to start. I ended up leaving - it just wasn't interesting enough to ride out. My friends were cool with that, and I got some takeout and headed home. God had a job for me there, it seems - funny that God shows up even at a swingers party. I ended up sitting next to a girl who has been trying to stop drinking using willpower alone. She's been dry since September. Her father is in the program and four years sober. She's resistant to trying AA. We had a really frank talk, and I hope I shared my experience, strength and hope with her without sounding preachy or holier-than-thou. I let her lead the conversation and dropped it after giving her my number and telling her to call me if she wanted to come to a meeting.

It was a weird night. I felt shaky when I left, and opted for a cab instead of walking through the club district home. I felt a longing for the comfort of oblivion tonight. I was feeling sort of sorry for myself when I left that party - very "hole in the doughnut". I wasn't that party girl anymore, and I was feeling lonely and it turns out I was really hungry. I treated myself to dinner (takeout, got the cab to wait outside and then drive me home, which was the treat part), and turning my thoughts immediately to someone else I could help, I treated the cabbie to some takeout and gave him a decent tip.

I also got a call from G today, who asked me if I would take a friend who had relapsed to a meeting, which of course I would and did. What an amazing day. I made the right decision - leave a party that I wasn't comfortable at - even though it made me feel like I was a bit of a big loser.

I'm not at all eloquent tonight. I'm going to bed. Sweet dreams.

Oh, that reminds me....a woman shared tonight about how she had been on vacation and grabbed a bottle of water from her friends purse and took a big gulp and it turned out to be straight vodka. She had been 30 days sober before she left for her vacation and on shaky ground to begin with, and that gulp of vodka led to a big old bender. Which is how all my using dreams start - I accidentally drink and then figure "what the hell" - which is exactly what happened to her. Tonight at the party I put a big "X" on my plastic cup just in case.

I'm so happy to be sober tonight.

2006-11-30T23:57:00.000-05:00

The bruises are from all the kickboxing which is necessary because of all the chocolate which is necessary because of the breakup which was brought on by the sobriety which was brought on by the breakup which was brought on by the drinking which was brought on by my genetic predisposition to alcoholism and my fucked up childhood which was likely a direct result of my parents fucked up childhoods, so really I can trace the big ugly bruises on my forearm back to the pioneer days.

2006-11-28T23:13:00.000-05:00

Today I hate people. Not very programmy of me, I admit. Someone in the program today - someone I thought was a very good friend - asked me not to call them as often. What the? How do I deal with that? Ouchy.

2006-11-27T22:11:00.000-05:00

Alive, well, sober, all good.

2006-11-23T13:23:00.000-05:00

Note to Gwen, and other readers - I don't write poetry - the things posted here are songs that someone else wrote - I'm sorry I haven't credited anyone for them!!! Will do so in the future. :)

It's my actual one year today. Happy AA Birthday to me.

Medallion was unbelievable.

Family is in town, so I have to run, but I will post more about the absolutely amazing experience that was my one year medallion soon.

Love you all!

2006-11-21T06:24:00.000-05:00

Two days early or no, it's my Medallion today, and I'm on top of the world. More or less :) To all of you: Thank you. Your inspirational comments and your recording of your own struggles and accomplishments in sobriety have been instrumental in helping me reaching this milestone.

Birds flying high
You know how I feel
Sun in the sky
You know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good
I'm feeling good

Fish in the sea
You know how I feel
River running free
You know how I feel
Blossom on the tree
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean
Sleep in peace when the day is done, that's what I mean
And this old world is a new world
And a bold world
For me
Fooor me

Stars when you shine
You know how I feel
Scent of the pine
You know how I feel
Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
ha!
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life

It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
It's a new life
For me

And I'm feeling good
I'm feeling good
I feel so good
I feel so good!

2006-11-19T22:05:00.000-05:00

How do you people do it? Celibacy sucks. Pass the chocolate.

2006-11-19T10:32:00.000-05:00

Two more sleeps until my medallion. Weird stuff. Who knew?

As I move sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly towards being the person that God intended for me to be, I'm awed at the difference a year can make. I'm a better parent (most days), a better person (most times), and a better friend.

Was I a better partner? CS put up with a lot of shit from me. Truly, he did. He was there through me hitting bottom, through all my relapses, and through me getting sober. I couldn't be there through his...whatever it is...what is it? Whether right or wrong, I needed more from him than he had to give, and right or wrong I resented him and I couldn't let go of it. My own sobriety and sanity was in jeapordy, so I made the decision to fix it in the only way I knew how - to remove myself from the situation.

I'm sad, but the anger is gone, which is an enormous relief. I had to continually ask HP to take it, because I couldn't stand myself anymore.

Which brings me back to the first sentence. I'm not the same person I was when I met him. A different girl fell in love with him, and the girl that I am now can't be with him. Which is a shame, because he's pretty fantastic in many ways. Letting go of him is hard - in some ways, it's like letting go of that other girl - I love her, but she's damaged and dysfunctional and resistant to change. I miss her some days - she was pretty fantastic in many ways.

My friend AC got a tattoo of a phoenix on her one-year. I'm thinking about getting one - not a phoenix, but a tattoo. However, AC hates hers now, so I figure I can give it some more time. Old Holly may have been a tattoo sporting sort of girl, but New Holly may not be. More will be revealed.

I'm so grateful today I can barely breathe.

2006-11-16T13:38:00.000-05:00

Clearing away the wreckage of my past....

Packing is emotional. I'm overwhelmed by the prospect of moving again. I'm sad that a chapter in my life has come to a close. I'm excited about what the future holds and scared of being alone.

Today I feel strong. Practical. Breaking up is hard to do, but breaking up is the right decision. Today I am able to handle life as a grown-up. Today I am able to treat CS with the love and respect that he's earned the right to over three years of sharing my life and supporting my decisions, and I'm able to rejoice in his success and drive. Tomorrow may be different, but today I am okay.

I'm sick today - which is a blessing, really - I needed some time to be alone and clean my frickin house and pack things and rest and weep. I was go-go-go-ing until I dropped, and my body finally said "Huh-uh, you stop now!". Work has been stressful and life has been difficult and I'm dying to get out of my head. I'm itching to be anyone but me. So I pray and I call someone and I go to yet another meeting.

My life feels like it's falling apart, but I can honestly say my sobriety has never felt so real or so powerful. I'm spending a lot of time with people in program, and visiting my daughter as often as my ex will let me. They had me over for dinner last night, which was really awesome of them.

Grey's Anatomy is on tonight - gratitude!!!

2006-11-10T07:45:00.000-05:00

Is there anything two meetings a day can't fix?

I don't know, but I don't think so.

Provincials this weekend - wish me luck :)

2006-11-08T09:46:00.001-05:00

Two words:

Celibacy Vow

I'm trying to commit to a period of time, but I'm not sure what's reasonable.

Let's work on 30 days and then re-evaluate. It occured to me at a meeting last night that if I allow myself to slip back in to old behaviour patterns - including and especially my (inappropriate?) sexual behaviour - I'll probably open the door to other behaviours.

Hokey as this may sound - after some prayer and meditation - it occured to me that I could very well make the decision to never EVER behave that way again. I could, from this point forward, only share my body with people who love and respect me.

I like the way that sounds.

2006-11-07T06:39:00.000-05:00

Overwhelmed.

I'm filing for bankruptcy today. I *started* filing for bankruptcy over a year ago, and then I didn't file. I need to get this finished, and today's the day. I'm not upset about it - it is what it is.

I'm apartment hunting. AH is going back to Oz in February, perhaps permanently, and has offered me everything he owns. So in February I have a plug-and-play apartment, complete with cat. The cat isn't part of the deal, but it will cost him 10K to move his cat to Australia. I offered to take the cat before he offered me the furnishings. I think to save a friend 10K I can have a cat. The cat thing is supposed to be temporary, but if he doesn't come home, I guess I have a cat. I'm okay with that, but his cat eats everything in sight. It will mean keeping everything in a place, and we all know how bad I am at keeping stuff where it belongs.

Between now and February I will stay with a friend and just save money. That's the plan. If something changes, I can donate all AHs stuff to Streethaven. So that's the plan so far. It's all just falling in to place. Nice when that happens.

I'm training like mad. It's weird, I thought life would be perfect when I was finally x pounds and a size 7 again. Now that that has happened, I feel just as empty. Now what? Do I need to be a size 6 to be happy? Is this what happens to anorexics? I get a rush from controlling my diet perfectly, from training to exhaustion. It makes me feel different and superior. I'm tired of having so many "isms".

On the up side, it's a tournament weekend, although my game feels sloppy right now. No matter, it felt sloppy before New York and I won that one, so who knows?

2006-11-04T22:18:00.000-05:00

We'll do it all
Everything
On our own

We don't need
Anything
Or anyone

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel

Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads

I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

2006-11-03T23:49:00.000-05:00

Then one day, he went away. And I thought I'd die -- but I didn't.
And when I didn't I said to myself, "Is that all there is to love?"

I started packing today. I figured a couple of boxes a day is easier than trying to do it all last minute like I normally do. I just found the receipts from Bender Week in a box. Bender Week, for those of you who didn't read my blog back when I was still OUT, was the week I ditched my Las Vegas trip in favour of staying with CS, who I was, of course, madly in love with. It was before the awful "I don't need a date" incident. Or maybe it started with the "I don't need a date" incident. Whatever the case may be, it was a long time ago.

I feel...like all the shine has been rubbed off of me. Like me, just duller. It's achy and awful. Packing up my life, once again.

1. AJ - one fucked up year
2. JJ - one fucked up year
3. RS - almost two fucked up years
4. CB - over three kind of fucked up years
5. GS - almost two less fucked up years
6. CS - more than two fucked up years

That's eleven years, and six couches I don't own anymore.

2006-11-02T23:27:00.000-05:00

Phase 2 of mourning: Chocolate. Lots. Of. Chocolate.

2006-11-01T22:03:00.000-05:00

And pass it did...

Not that I'm still not hurting, and sad, but the angry went away. Ah, prayer.

2006-10-31T23:12:00.000-05:00

You know, maybe I'm full of shit. I have no idea anymore. I pray for the willingness to feel something for more than three seconds before shutting it down. I've spent my whole life avoiding my feelings. It's a hard habit to break. It really is a lot like being a child again - it's how I dealt with pain before I could drink it away. Just pretend you're not there, pretend it isn't happening, pretend you're happy and it doesn't matter. Eventually, if you pretend things don't hurt for long enough, they don't.

My sponsor said that if we thought our relationship was worth saving, we'd be working to save it, and we would be doing anything we had to in order to do it. We'd be comprimising and giving things up and doing the work. Like sobriety - you have to want it, and you have to do the work to get it. A relationship is no different. She's right, I think. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of having a relationship that is all work and no play. I didn't get sober to feel like shit all the time.

My part? Where was I self seeking, selfish, dishonest, and fearful? Where wasn't I? I have no idea how to be a partner to someone. I just want what I want - like a baby - I need comfort and can't comfort myself. Once again, I put this enormous burden of my happiness on someone else. I set him up to fail.

This too shall pass. Sooner the better.

2006-10-31T22:41:00.000-05:00

Pain is just the fear leaving your body.

I'm in pain today. I'm trying to be flip and glib about it all, but the truth of the matter is that my relationship is over and it hurts. The only thing I know how to do when I'm sad is shut everything off. It never happened, it never was. That's the old Holly, anyhow. The new one isn't quite sure what to do with these feelings. I can feel myself squelching them. It surfuces, it gets pushed back down and you go on. That's how life is. I really want to just go out and finally get laid and just forget the whole fucking thing ever happened. Normally I'd get drunk first, then go out and get laid, and then feel shitty about the whole thing afterwards, but the getting laid part is the part that says "Fuck you, it's over, and now I've shut that door for good by betraying you." Really, I don't want to get laid at all. I just want to hurt him so he can fathom some of what I'm feeling right now. It's like a big ache everywhere. I was waiting for The Grand Gesture that never came. I was waiting for him to Do Something. I want to just yell "Was it worth it? Was that fucking party worth it? Was it worth your relationship? I hope it was the best fucking party you ever went to!" And then I want to fuck someone he hates and call it a shift.

My mind is poison. Thank God I have a Higher Power that has more sense than I do. Yes, I can think about doing these things. They're only thoughts. Do I actually want to get laid? Nah. I do kind of want to get laid, actually. It's been ages. I just don't want to go through any of the crap that you need to go through to get laid. We never talk about sex in the rooms, do we? I go from being revolted by the idea of anyone ever touching me again to wanting to just go out and fuck anonymous strangers.

Whatever. The point. Is there a point? Oh. Yes. I'm sad and I'm angry and I'm afraid I've left before the miracle happens. But maybe there was no miracle to be had. Maybe I just have to face up to the fact that I one day I got high with someone who treated me like shit, and of course, that's what I love - I love to get treated like shit. So I worked all that much harder to get him to love me. But secretly, for three years, I've held that against him. How stupid is that? Like a big revenge plot. I bet that fucking hurts, doesn't it? How does that feel? Does it hurt? That's funny, because I don't feel a thing.

You see? Glib. Messy. I have tears in my ears one minute, and the next I'm thinking about making a booty call and going to bed with someone less for physical satisfaction and more just to be an asshole. How fucked up is that? How fucked up am I? It's no wonder my relationship failed, I'm psychotic. I'm not psychotic. I just have absolutely no coping skills. Relationships end. You move on. It feels different somehow. It feels emptier. I've been building the wall back up for a long time, though. By the time it ended I was already a mile away. I was hurt and done and gone months ago. I just kept thinking he would come back, and it would come back and we would be okay. At the end of the day, I'm still a twelve year old girl trying to get her father's attention. Pay attention to me, what can I do to make you love me more? If I could only (lose more weight, learn how to dance, keep the house cleaner, give him more space, ad nauseaum), then he would love me more. Or he would show me that he loved me more. I don't doubt he loved me in whatever way he was capable of. I'm sure he's all broke up about it. But he wasn't broke up enough about it to not go out partying until Four AM. So fuck him.

I hope the bitter leaves soon. Bitter feels bad. It doesn't feel as bad as sad though, so I think I'll stick to bitter for a while.

2006-10-26T21:01:00.000-04:00

Some days...

I really hate alcoholics. Really. I'm sick of my fucked up friends.

However, I seem to be getting better at forming relationships with non-alcoholics.

Sigh.

Full blown crazy.

Work is great. My new boxing habit is addictive. Today is the most nothing I've done in weeks. It feels weird. I feel like I should be doing something. I did a whole days worth of somethings, though.

Less than 30 days to my medallion. Trying not to think about it too much.

Sorry I don't have more time for more. Bright blessings and another 24 to you all.

2006-10-16T21:57:00.000-04:00

Update:

All is well, I'm just busy. Trying to do a meeting a day between now and my one year - I figure I'm going to treat this 30 the same as my first 30 to keep the weirdness at bay.

2006-10-05T21:20:00.000-04:00

I'm cranky.

Wasn't cranky, and now am cranky. Go figure. Frickin' frick. (I've managed to make it through the weekend without having to ante up any cash for swearing...)

My daughter's school is doing drills that are like fire drills, but they're practising what to if a gunman - or sexual predator - enters the premises. How scary is that? I guess it's applied to any stranger spotted in the hallway. Like kids today don't have enough to worry about, now they have to worry about getting killed in the hallway by a lunatic with a weapon. Try having that talk with your six year old.

Man, that sucks.

On the other hand, the weather is really great today.

Gah.

2006-10-05T06:53:00.000-04:00

Time flies

Tuesday night at my home group, the group secretary asked me could I please let him know in the next two weeks what I'd like engraved on my one-year medallion.

How amazing is that? It's so close I need to start planning for it. At my home group they do a "birthday meeting" where you get to ask people to participate. And they all say good things about you, and someone presents you with your medallion. It's all very festive. My mother is actually coming to town for mine, and possibly my sister, and I think a great deal of my friends will show up. I've already asked my friend (and 12 stepper) AP to speak, and I guess now I think about who does the readings. Talk about not being able to live a day at a time right now! I'm trying not to get overly crazy about it. It is, after all, just another day. And it's nothing at all like trying to get that three month chip. There is no desire to drink left in me. There's no time in my life for that shit. Now it's just waiting it out and working the program.

I don't know what I'm going to put on my medallion. HP and I will figure that out later. But how amazing that we made it this far.

2006-10-01T08:18:00.000-04:00

Higher Power On Board

There are how many people in New York? Millions. So what are the odds, do you think, of me running in to someone on my 8th list? And the fact that I just started doing the 8th here in New York? Think about that for a minute. I made amends to J, the person I'm staying with (and that's a different story entirely) and that was my first "real" amend. That one's easy. We're still friends and all is well.

Anyhow, I'm on my way to the tournament yesterday, walking up 58th at Park, and I run in to John. (Not his real name) Now, my sin here was using him. I let him believe that I was in fact interested in going to bed with him, and that that would probably happen at some point. I happily shared expensive dinners (David Burke and Donatella expensive) that he paid for, and stood him up with no explanation when I got better offers from people I would rather spend time with. All while staying at his pricey apartment on the UES on multiple visits to New York. While I was doing this I thought it was hilarious and bragged about it to my friends. Now, bumping in to him, I feel shame and remorse for behaviour that can only be described as, well, bad.

So, we bump in to each other and there is suprise and disbelief and we exchange pleasantries. I sort of clear my throat and say: "John (not his real name), when I was visiting New York a few years ago I treated you really poorly. I took advantage of your hospitality and didn't show you much consideration or respect. I'm really sorry about that." He seemed...stunned. "Holly (not my real name), what are you talking about? We had a great time when you were here..." So there you go. I cleared my side of the street, and it turns out he hadn't given it a second thought.
We make plans to perhaps have a coffee later in the weekend if there is time, and off we go. It was. Akward. And exhilerating. It wasn't a big amend, but it was one that needed to be made in order to keep me sober.

I go play my game (I won) and then heading up Lexington to do some shopping I bump in to the two women I had coffee with after the AA meeting on Friday night. How weird is THAT? Again, millions of people in New York, and I bump into the only two I know from the rooms.

Once again, I came here to play squash, but HP brought me to New York for entirely different reasons. Nice that I get to play some squash, though.

2006-09-30T07:43:00.000-04:00

If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere...

New York rocks. New York sober FUCKING ROCKS. So I owe you all two bucks. Worth it.

They talk about the fourth dimension in meetings, and you read about it in the Big Book, and you think that you sort of peek through the keyhole at it once in a while when the stars align and everything is just perfect, but then one day it just hits you like a tonne of bricks - you're there! You're living in it!

That moment - not my spiritual experience, because that was different,and gradual - but the moment I realized that I was finally part of this phenomenon, that it was working for me, that I was getting it - was Thursday morning around 11 AM on the Triborough Bridge.

Background: Came to New York to play a squash tournament. Brought the folding bike. Scoured the internet, and found, a bike-friendly route from LaGuardia airport to Manhattan. So I touch down, claim my bags - the bike, a Brompton, made it through regular baggage with no issues, and was only living in a polyester carrying bag. Anyone considering a folding bike should run, not walk, to the end of season bike sales and snatch one of these babys up. It made it to LaGuardia in once piece and it got me into mid-town Manhattan in once piece.

The route goes through a really visually stunning part of Queens, which is hilly and treed and looks like something out of Goodfellas or another smob movie. Identical brick buildings side by each with stoops out front where people congregate to chat and enjoy the sunshine. The backs of the buildings have iron fire escapes where women are hanging out laundry. The trees are all turning, leaves are floating through the air, and the air itself is crisp and sweet.

The triborough bridge is huge. It's a really long bridge. Really long. The first quarter of the walkway is wired up. You can see everything, but you can see it through wire mesh. Like being in jail. The middle of the bridge is wire-free - you can lean right up against the rail and just stare off into the distance. Here's where it happened. I'm just standing on this bridge, taking it all in. No hurry to get to the city at all. Happy right where I am. The sky is perfect blue. The water isn't choppy, but it's rhythmic. A huge ship cuts a clean wake line behind it. There are big colourful patches of baseball diamond and football field and lush treetops. The skyscrapers are backdrop for this amazing panorama of life. Then, out of nowhere, a big, fat, orange monarch butterfly lands right in front of me on the bridge. What the hell? New York fades in to the background and it's all about this crazy butterfly. You'll call me crazy, but I've seen this butterfly before in sobriety in weird places where no butterfly should be. Welcome to my fourth dimension.

I came to New York to play squash, but didn't consider for a moment that HP had other plans for me. When I got in to the city on Thursday morning, I rode in from the airport and then went to Amy Ruth's for Chicken and Waffles. (Amen!) Then I decided the next order of business was a meeting, so I rode my bike down to Brigids Well - you may recall I went there last trip and picked up my 3 month medallion - to look for a meeting. No meeting there, but on 42nd at AlAnon house there was a meeting, but it was an hour until the meeting. I figured I could help set up, and went upstairs. The door was locked, but there was a man sitting in the hallway. It was his first meeting, and he had mixed up the times - he had been sent on a meeting wild goose chase, and had been trying to get to a meeting all morning. He had been getting ready to leave in frustration. I got the opportunity to share my story with him, and it was really just an amazing experience. He kept saying things like "Wow, I feel just like that!" and "That happened to me, too!" I wish I'd had a Big Book with me to give him, and they didn't have any at the meeting, or I would have bought him one. (I still haven't given anyone a big book....) Finally, the chair of the meeting came to unlock the doors, and voila, he made it to his first meeting. How amazing to be a part of that. I wonder if my friend AP (my 12 stepper) felt like that when he gave me his big book? I'll have to ask him. So, I offer to help set up the meeting, and they ask me to speak! What a huge gift. Not only have I had the chance to share with a newcomer, now I get to share my story with the whole room, and hopefully give someone something they need to hear.

I didn't think my talk was particularly good - but It was exactly what it was supposed to be, and to hear people share in the round robin was really a blessing. In Toronto, we have one meeting similar to that - a speaker shares and then they go around the room and sort of comment on what the speaker shares. In Toronto it sounds like cross-talk, because we don't do it at every meeting. When you're on the receiving end of it it's very fulfilling. You feel like you've reached out and touched people in a really important way.

Day two (yesterday) I went to two meetings, and for fellowship with two women after the 10PM meeting. It was really amazing. I had been feeling sort of out of place. I spent the day wandering alone, and the afternoon wandering with J, and then went to a meeting at Brigid's Well hoping to meet some fun alcoholics who would be doing something fun after the meeting (expectations) and that didn't happen, not that it wasn't a great meeting. I had a bye in the tournament and nothing to do, and was feeling sort of overwhelmed by the city lights. Hard to explain, but New York is so busy and bustling and lively at night, and I felt lonely and out of place. New York during the day is so phenomenal sober, and New York at night seems so threatening sober. I went to the gym that the tournament is being held at and got in a workout, which helped - but again, that feeling of "here I am in New York City and I'm going to the gym, how sad is that?" crept in. Fortunately, in New York there are hundreds of meetings every day, so I found a 10PM one in the neighbourhood and hit that.

Weird how you always hear what you need to in a meeting. The man who was sharing had a son in the rooms - in THAT room, to be exact - and he commented in the round robin about his father's share. Now, the day before when I had shared, someone commented that hearing me talk about my daughter was like hearing his mother, who was now dead from the disease, talk through me. I felt the same way at this meeting. It was just a hugely moving experience.

Afterwards two women - one with years, and one counting days - joined me at a coffee shop for a while, and it was really lovely.

Tournament starts today, I'm excited. About to get ready and get out. Wish me luck!

2006-09-25T06:48:00.000-04:00

I heard this at a meeting the other day, and thought I would try it out.

I now have a letter from God to me taped on my front door that says:

"Dear Holly,

I won't be needing your help today, thanks anyway!

Love, God"

A little reminder on who's running the show here today.

Anyhow, my new morning prayer:

"God, please help me to be the best person, parent, partner, friend and employee that I can be today. Help me align my will with Your will. Amen"

Simple, but effective.

It was all medallions all weekend for me. Amazing. Last year one year may as well have been thirty...now I'm closing in on it, and all my friends are getting theirs, and it's just so frickin amazing.

Frickin. Came about. Because I've implemented a new foul language policy. Eveytime I swear I have to give my daughter 2 bucks. She made eight bucks on Saturday. Granted, the words "stupid", "fat", and "shut-up" are also swear words in our house. She tried to get "crap" on the list - she claims it's the "c-word". I'm so glad she thinks that's the "c-word". I have faith in the world once again because of that.

So back to medallions. I was asked to participate in two one-year medallions this weekend. What priviledge and joy to be included in something like that. "You are no longer alone." Amen to that.

2006-09-21T08:23:00.000-04:00

Right to privacy?

I'm behind on the times now that I don't sit in front of my computer all day long, so forgive me if this is old news to you....

Jason Fortuny. Posted an ad on Craigslist - a forum I have used looking for kinky playmates before, by the way - pretending to be a submissive woman looking for a dominant man. He then posted all of the responses he got - including contact information like email addresses and phone number and pictures as sent - on the internet. I'm not going to link to everything here, but Google "Jason Fortuny" and you can read about it yourselves. And read all the responses to the ad. I discovered quickly this isn't something to view at work, so heads up to any of you surfing from the office - the pics are graphic and the responses profane.

The internet community is up in arms - some supportive of Jason's right to do it, and some outraged by his actions. Many of the men that replied to the ad were married and said as much. People are already recognizing their friends, neighbours and co-workers. Creepy.

Now, this resonates with me for a particular reason today. CS and I have a personals ad up in more than one place, and have communicated with more than one stranger on the internet. And yesterday someone I work with responded to an ad we have posted on a swingers site, and sent pictures. It leads me to think that the other half of the couple sent the note and pictures. Regardless, it made the Jason Fortuny incident even more disturbing to me - this person I work with has pictures of me and my partner, and I have pictures of them. Comprimising pictures I wouldn't want the rest of my co-workers to see. Should this person decide to violate my privacy I'll be...what? I'm not married and lying to my spouse. I'm not ashamed of my sexuality. I just don't need all my co-workers to know my sexual preferences. Should I be more careful? (Never mind all the porn kicking around that I'm in...)

I have posted ads, and people have responded. And if you post an ad that makes you sound like a kinky cock hungry slut, people will reply to you as if you are a kinky cock hungry slut. If you post an ad that makes you sound like a christian librarian looking for a lifemate, same deal. You represent yourself a certain way and the responses you're looking for come in. Jason posted a particularly revolting ad, complete with a revolting picture. The ad was written mostly in lower case, graphically described sex acts and used what I describe as a raver-git texting vocabulary, riddled with spelling errors. What kind of responses did he expect to receive?

Here's where I get all hoity-toity on everyone. I don't think they "deserved what they got", but I do think that if you're not going to be discerning about who you're writing to, you do kind of deserve what you get. I would never respond to an ad that was that poorly written, even if it described a fantasy I had always had and wanted to act on. Just on principle. When you lay down with dogs, you get fleas.

2006-09-20T06:12:00.000-04:00

Countdown to NYC : 8 days

I booked my trip a couple of days ago, and can't wait. I haven't been to NY in ages, and I haven't been alone in even longer than that. I'm staying at J's place - you may recall I met him on the drunken debauch trip a few years ago. *Cringing at remember when*

It's odd. You meet people, and some of them are quick bumps, some of them are quick bumps that change your life forever in some way, and some of them become permanent fixtures. J and I have a bond of some kind that I doubt either of us has identified or analyzed too much (until now, of course). Anyhow, I'm staying with J and his son and we're going to have a ball. I wish I could bring my daughter, but getting her in to the US is next to impossible - my ex isn't very giving that way. I've been trying to get her to Disneyworld. But I digress.

I'm playing a tournament while in town (of course!) so I'll get to work out at a club I absolutely love while I'm there. I'm planning to hit meetings at Brigid's Well again, wander the city, hit AmyRuths in Harlem....maybe hit a fetish event...so much to do...what a great reward for two months of getting up at 4:30 AM for work!

For all those interested, I finally passed my certification exam!!! Talk about highs and lows. One week life is the suck, and the next week you're on top of the world. I guess the phrase "This too shall pass" comes in to play here.

Last night N and I went for dinner before home group - as we do every week - only this week we ended up at a restaurant (Red Rose)where the food was inedible. It was just awful. So N dealt with things and we moved on to another restaurant where the food was ALSO inedible (Mel's Montreal Bistro). We paid for our meal here, but didn't eat it. We finally ended up going to Future Bakery - you may recall my knitting was stolen from there around Christmas last year - and having big pieces of cake for dinner. And there was a 30 year medallion (30!!! Years!!!!) at homegroup, so we had cake for dessert as well. All good.

And in other news, I've hurt my calf again. My boss says "overtraining". He's right, of course, but I honestly thought I was training in a moderate zone. (Moderate for me, anyhow) Here's hoping for a quick recovery! Lots coming up in the next couple of weeks that I don't want to miss.

CS is sick, sick, sick! Can't get off the couch sick. Poor baby.

And that's about all I have to say today. Cheers!

2006-09-18T06:53:00.000-04:00

Meltdowns

Did some serious praying and meditating while CS and I tried to figure out what happens now. God said, and I quote:

"Stay put and work on your own shit. Stop trying to make him work on his. This is about you."

Okay, maybe that's not a verbatim quote - I don't think my God swears much. The context is there, though.

And it makes sense. I've been thinking all along things along the lines of "If only he would come home on time, I would be happy, things would be better. If only we spent more time together I would be happy, things would be better..."

But this isn't about him. Nothing magic happens between 7:30 and 8:30. I complain because I put my life on hold to wait for him to show up - no one makes me do that. Only I can make me unhappy. This isn't about him. This is about my own character defects. Self centered fear. Him coming home late, or spending more time dancing to me translates to "I don't love you, in fact, I'm considering leaving you because I don't find you attractive anymore so maybe you should spend even more time at the gym until you look like one of the girls that I dance with, one of whom I'm already considering leaving you for."

Insane? Yup. Not once do I think about his work commitments, the goals he's set for himself, the things he loves to do, the things that make him feel like he's smart and valuable. All I can think about is me. How this affects MY life, MY self-esteem, MY plans, ME ME ME. All about me.

We talked a lot about love, what it looks like. Love doesn't take all the milk for coffee.

Anyhow, after several bad ideas (how about being roommates) and several "okay, then, that's that then's" I finally decided to pray about it. I know, I know, I should have done that first. Although it happened the way it happened so I could come to that conclusion in good time. The discussions we had this weekend brought us closer - I haven't felt connected to him for a long time - it's hard to be connected when one of you gets angrier and the other withdraws for fear of tripping the wire that will set off the claymore. With none of the pressure of outcome (there's a lesson here, people) we were able to communicate openly with each other about what was going on. Worst case scenario was breaking up, and since we had done that, why not share what was really on our minds instead of the diffused versions?

Relationships - any relationship - are work. Plain and simple. They require an active, not passive, approach if they are going to succeed. Every day I have to try to be a better parter, to show love, not just say "I love you". Faith without works is dead. So is love without works.

So we decided to stay together. There you go. Then we got on the motorcycle and drove to Syracuse to Dinosaur Barbecue. For those of you who've never experienced the phenomenon that is Dinosaur Barbecue, I can only tell you that it's worth 16 hours on a Harley. For a little divine intervention fix, how's this little story...

About an hour out of the city, we pull off to the side of the road to go to a rest stop. It's not where we were going to stop, and I can't remember why we had to stop, but as we pull on to the service road, a car pulls up next to us to inform us that something is ON FIRE! Sure enough, right next to my leg, one of the saddlebags is on fire. We stop, get the saddlebag off the bike, get the fire out. Everything is melting. Fortunately, due to the early stop, we've caught the fire before it gets to the battery operated devices in the saddlebags. Batteries and fire are bad. Fire and motorcycle, bad. Divine intervention, good.

We made it to Syracuse in one piece, enjoyed a feast of back ribs, pulled pork, brisket and all the trimmings, followed by Sweet Potato Pecan Pie. Smuggled some back acoss the border.

The trip was made mostly in silence - the FM on our two way wasn't working. It was nice.

2006-09-14T07:02:00.000-04:00

My thought for today is this:

While "done" and "over" are two different things, they have the same end result.

CS and I have called it quits, we're waiting until after my exam (Friday) to iron out details - I can't focus on much more than studying right now - if I have to deal with apartment hunting and money and blah blah blah I will probably spontaneously combust.

Regrets for not posting. Working 12 hour days, trying to hit as many meetings as possible, squash season is kicking in and I'm studying for my certification exam.

2006-09-08T07:05:00.000-04:00

a href="http://www.marriedtothesea.com/">
marriedtothesea.com

2006-09-07T06:42:00.000-04:00

Yawn.

I'm not sure why HP decided that I didn't need to get any sleep before my fourteen hour shift today, but He did, and I didn't.

No matter. We'll get through today.

Last night something amazing happened. A newcomer called me. She was having a hard time and needed to talk. Holy crap! It was an amazing experience. I'm so flattered and honoured to have been able to be of service to someone.

It took me way back to being a newcomer myself and being terrified of picking up the phone to call someone I barely knew to do something I really never did - ask for help.

I told her that two years later I often call four or five people EVERY DAY.

It turns out that she has been suffering through Al-Anon for seven months, not working the steps. No wonder she's miserable. Watching people who are working the steps get "better" and happier while you wallow in your own misery is horrible. Not getting it sucks.

I gave the best counsel I could. Go to more meetings. Ask God for help. The very same responses I hated hearing when I was new. The circle of life. :)

2006-09-05T08:47:00.000-04:00

Long Long Weekend

CS and I broke up on Friday. And then un-broke up. Strange. I'm the one who whiles away her life in AA meetings, and he's the one who comes up with "If we're going to continue, our relationship needs to be about acceptance, not change."

Ouch. I point out that acceptance does not equal a get out of jail free card. You can't demand acceptance while you deliberately act in a contrary fashion.

We'll get there. Or we won't. This one I'm handing over to God. I'll try to be the best person I can be, and the best partner I can be. That's my side of the street. Time will tell if that will be enough.

2006-08-27T16:08:00.000-04:00

Progress, not perfection.

Some days I know I'm making progress. Joyfully, today is one of those days.

I spent the day with my brother, which is always good. He's struggling - he feels lost and like his life is going nowhere. I asked him where he wanted to be going, and pointed out that unless you have an actual goal it's impossible to know where you are in relation to achieving it.

We talked a lot about this. What are you moving towards? What do you want? What are you willing to do to get it? I think to achieve something you have to be willing to go to any lengths. Sobriety aside, is that what makes greatness? Is part of the problem just not knowing where you want to go? Not knowing what makes you tick?

I have no idea what I want. I'm working on being happy no matter what. Being content no matter what. That way, if this is all there is, that's okay. Is that what it's all about? Maybe that million bucks will drop out of the sky, maybe it won't. Maybe. If you can be happy anywhere doing anything, it doesn't really matter. Today I did things I enjoyed surrounded by people I love. What else does there need to be? Sure, having a coffee in Milan would be great. I don't know that it would be better, and today I don't feel the need to find out, either. Don't get me wrong - I'm not saying that it's not good to aspire to something - but I think it that's the only reason you're moving forward - the next job, the next car, the bigger house, the latest gadget, a better vacation - you'll eventually be disappointed. Like drinking, I guess. One day that next drink doesn't work its' magic anymore. And what are you left with? I really feel today like if this is as good as it gets - that's still pretty damn okay.

And go see Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. It's frickin hilarious. It will be a cult classic, I'm positive.

2006-08-25T06:52:00.000-04:00

Posted by Rod E. Smith, MSMFT on April 2nd, 2006
http://rodesmith.wordpress.com/2006/04/02/how-to-know-love-is-real-love/

Love is not possessive. It does not try to keep you from other important relationships. A person who tries to restrict your freedom does not love despite what he or she might say. Sometimes a possessive person will say, “I am just this way because we are not yet committed,” or “because you are so beautiful.” The truth is that possessive people seldom become less so. Their hold will only increase as you permit it.

Love is not jealous. A person who loves you will celebrate your strengths and successes. A person who loves also applauds you when others do. They work to enhance your popularity with others. Sometimes a jealous person will say, “I am jealous of you because I love you,” or “my jealousy shows I care.” Nonsense. People are jealous for many reasons and it is never a sign of love.

Love is not only a feeling. It is measured in financial, spiritual and sexual fidelity. The loving person does not play games with your feelings, spend your resources or keep secret matters that pertain to your friendship. Love seeks the highest good of all the people in your family and has no desire to exclude or separate you from you family.

2006-08-24T06:42:00.000-04:00

Note to Outkast - make a music video OR a movie. Don't try to combine the two.

The new Outkast movie is long. Really really long. It's visually stunning once in a while, and the dancing is fun, but the story is predictable when it isn't unbelievable.

Save your money, unless you're a huge Outkast fan.

2006-08-23T06:47:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure what's going on in my life today. CS and I have broken up. Or we haven't. We aren't sure.

We kind of came to the conclusion that maybe we've run our course. We needed each other to hit bottom, we needed each other to get sober, and now we don't seem to need each other very much at all. Maybe we've done what we came here to do.

It's difficult. We're both unhappy, and not sure how much longer we can be unhappy for without ending up enemies. CS feels like he's living in a minefield, and I feel like I'm the one who's always suppressing, compromising, working towards something.

What's the solution? When do you say "enough already"? How do you know when it's over? I'm trying to listen for answers. Direction. Something.

I asked him to pick one thing about me that I could work on changing - just one - and that I would commit to working on that thing for the next thirty days. I think if we're going to work towards something better, we need to start with small steps.

Are relationships this much work all the time? Is it just this one?

At the end of the day, I love him. If that's enough, then we'll be fine.

2006-08-22T06:09:00.000-04:00

Character defects....

....are everywhere. Have I really been this...objectionable...for my entire life? Ewww. No wonder I drank so much. Seriously. This is yucky.

No matter. God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves, right?

I may have been...premature...in saying that I had completed steps six and seven. I did a lot of reading on step six yesterday (Google Book Search "Drop the Rock") and it was very enlightening. Can being a better person really be as simple as pretending that I'm a better person until I actually am? Right back to the beginning - Fake it, 'til you make it!

So now, not only am I an alcoholic, I'm schizophrenic.

I spill water on the floor in front of the cooler at work. Not a lot of water, but enough. I walk away from it, in a hurry, someone else will clean it up. Wait! That's Old Holly Behaviour. Old Holly leaves her messes for other people to clean up. New Holly cleans up after herself, even in a hurry. It's My Job to clean up My Mess. Hell, at work it's My Job to clean up after everyone else, too. Without Bitching.

It's no secret that my relationship is - trying - to put it mildly - right now. Our schedules - life, sleep, sex - are completely out of whack. To hell with patiently waiting out the low tide - I want what I want when I want it, and if you're not going to give it to me, I'll find it elsewhere. If that thing happens to be sex, and I happen to be in a monogamous relationship, well...who cares!!! No one gets hurt if no one finds out, right? That's definitely Old Holly. Here's where I'm running in to difficulties. New Holly doesn't really have a coping mechanism to replace the default "just fuck around on him" reflex. So I just spin about angry and irritable. Which is just as unpleasant for all people concerned (and for those in my backblast area). What would the person I'd like to be do in this situation?

The little things are easy, right? It's all Golden Rule type stuff. The big stuff is tricky. It's Ask Your Sponsor stuff, yeah? Good idea.

Progress, not perfection. Progress, not perfection. Worth repeating. Yesterday we went to pick up dinner, and it was just one little irritating issue after another. Forgot the debit card. Only takes cash. Only takes cash. Doesn't have what we wanted. Daughter doesn't want to eat that. Finally, bucket of chicken. And then, the fiasco that is figuring out what to order, topped off by the person serving us being just generally - useless. They're out of this, they're out of that - they're out of various chicken pieces, for the love of Pete! I had to actually remove myself from the store to keep myself from yelling at her AND CS. Progress. Old Holly would have thrown a fit, and left, sans chicken. All together now: "Oh, for fucks sake!" New Holly recognizes that she is frustrated with the process, anxious that she is late for dinner, and starving. Perhaps not thinking as rationally as she could be, but still irritated. Remove from situation. Let CS deal with Chicken and Useless Chicken People. Ok, we haven't improved to the point that we can acknowledge that the Chicken People probably aren't useless. Baby steps.

2006-08-17T06:34:00.000-04:00

You think YOUR life sucks?

They've finally found the person who killed little Jon-Benet Ramsey. Her parents had been the prime suspects, if you recall - and Jon-Benet's mother died of ovarian cancer in June of this year. Can you imagine? Your daughter is strangled in your basement, you're accused of it. You are blasted repeatedly in the media. As far as the entire world is concerned, you killed your child. You can't go to the supermarket without everyone talking about you. You can't even move, the story was so hot that it hit all the international rags. You're branded a child killer. It doesn't matter that they can't prove it, everyone knows. Then you die of cancer two months before you're absolved.

http://www.nationalledger.com/artman/publish/article_27267751.shtml

Granted, they acted like assholes about the whole thing - why wouldn't you take a lie detector test when your child has been killed?

In other "You think YOUR life sucks?" news:

http://msnbc.msn.com/id/14346486/

The storey of the Ceraks and the VanRynns. Their daughters are in a bus accident. One child survives, one doesn't. For an entire month the VanRynn family sits vigil by their daughters bedside as she recovers from a coma. The Cerak family buries their daughter. When the survivor emerges from her coma, her first words identify her as the other daughter. The hospital has misidentified the girl. The VanRynns had a blog, as do the Ceraks now - the world has rallied around these two families. Both families are devout Christians - and all the while, the Ceraks were able to rejoice for the VanRynns while mourning their daughter. Now the VanRynns are able to do the same for the Ceraks. Sad, but beautiful. An amazing example of empathy and compassion.

Today I pray that God will show me the gifts of empathy and compassion so that I may rejoice with those who rejoice, and mourn with those who mourn. Equally.

2006-08-15T17:26:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time, I knew how to add links to the side of my blog. That day has passed. If anyone could offer me a quick tip on where in the world on this site I go to add other blogs to my "list of blogs I read" list, that would be swe-e-elll.

A big thank-you to everyone who takes the time to comment on something they read and enjoy (or don't, it's okay - I have God now, you don't have to like me, or my writing. Ees cool mang!).

I burned my arm today cooking tofu dogs - of all the stupid things to burn yourself on! Not only do they taste like ass, but now I have a burn (similar to the pumpkin pie burn of '91) to remember forever how really bad tofu dogs taste.

My friend K swears by tofu dogs. They, along with Power Bars, are her major source of nutrition. I thought I would give them a day in court - I order them from the street vendor, why not enjoy them in the comfort of my own home?

You know what makes tofu dogs good? Piling all sorts of tangy, spicy condiment type fixings on them. You know what doesn't make them good? Burning your arm.

2006-08-15T06:50:00.000-04:00

Six and Seven...and then anger.

I am crazier now than I was when I was one week sober. I swear it.

I don't want to drink, which is amazing. I thought about it...the thought progression went something like this:

I'm so angry!
One fucking glass of wine wouldn't kill me.
Seriously...one? Who are you kidding?
You'll have several.
You'll get drunk.
You'll pick up.
You'll call in sick for work on Monday.
You'll come in tired and/or still fucked up on Tuesday.
You'll be okay for a few days, then do it again on the weekend.
You won't bother to call AT ALL next Monday, you'll just stop going entirely.
You'll dodge their calls for a month and stop checking your email.
You'll have to stop playing squash entirely, because it will get around the club circuit.
You'll have completely burned any chance you'll ever have of working as a trainer in Toronto...
Well, those consequences are just unacceptable to me. What else can I do?

----

footnote and hilarity and too much information follows:

It turns out that I'm not a psychotic bitch - I was just PMSing!!! After six years on Depo-Provera (and a year off it trying to get back to a regular cycle)it seems my body has finally returned to "normal". I guess six years of no PMSing just caught up with me this week. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.

2006-08-12T08:24:00.000-04:00

Step Five

I expected there to be angels and trumpets. At the very least some tears. But there were none of these things. There were some wasps, a yellow dog, and a big monarch butterfly.

I took my fifth (or did my fifth?) step in a park with my new sponsor yesterday afternoon. In true alcoholic fashion, I was scribbling in my big bad fourth notebook right to the deadline.

Honestly, I don't want to spoil the experience for anyone, and I'm sure it's different for everyone. It wasn't as bad as I'd imagined, and it wasn't the spiritual experience I expected. That's ok. It won't be my last one.

I went to a meeting directly after - a step five meeting - imagine! Funny, since I went to a step four meeting the day before. Nice when HP tailors the program to my exact needs.

So, according to my sponsor, my number one character defect, the thing I need to pray to have removed daily, is self-loathing. And apparently it's like that for almost all alcoholics. We hate ourselves, which is why everyone else must love us so much.

Profound? Hardly. Helpful? Extremely.

Have I done the first five steps thoroughly? I think so. Have I tried to build mortar without sand? I don't think so. It's taken a lot of work to get to here. I think I've done the work. (Sometimes quickly, sometimes slo-o-owly.)

It took me ten months and one relapse to get through my fourth. I don't recommend that approach. It's like marinating in all your biggest fears and flaws. Get it down on paper, get it out your mouth, get it the fuck over with. I can't guarantee you you'll feel better, but I can guarantee you that it's not going to be as bad as you think it is. I can tell you that I honestly wish I'd done this sooner. I was afraid, and I let that fear keep my program in stasis.

Stay tuned for steps six through twelve.

2006-08-09T22:26:00.000-04:00

I forgot to mention that I got a new sponsor - from a different lineage. We're doing my fifth - as far as I've gotten - on Friday. That should help.

Wax, I'm thinking about you. A lot. I shared about you at a meeting today. I'm scared for you. I'm scared for me. I'm scared for all of us.

2006-08-09T16:35:00.000-04:00

Oh, the line forms on the right dear....

Would anyone I've ever slept with please form a line here so that I may apologize to you all individually?

You see, I didn't really care about you. No, not you either. Sorry 'bout that.

It doesn't matter that you don't remember MY name, either. Or that you were using me for your own sinsister or pathetic purposes.

It’s nothing and it’s so normal
You just stand there, I could say so much
But I don’t go there cause I don’t want to
I was thinking if you were lonely
Maybe we could leave here and no one would know
At least not to the point that we would think so

Everyone here, knows everyone here is thinking about somebody else
It’s best if we all keep this under our heads
I couldn’t tell, if anyone here was feeling the way I do
But I’m lonely now, and I don’t know how to get it back to good

This don’t mean that, you own me
This ain’t no good, in fact it’s phony as hell
But things worked out just like you wanted too
If you see me out, you don’t know me
Try to turn your head, try to give me some room
To figure out just what I’m going to do

Cause everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do
And it’s best if we all keep this quiet instead
And I couldn’t tell, why everyone here was doing me like they do
But I’m sorry now, and I don’t know how to get it back to good

Everyone here, is wondering what it’s like to be with somebody else
Everyone here’s to blame, everyone here gets caught up in the pleasure of the pain
Everyone hides shades of shame, but looking inside we’re the same, we’re the same
And we’re all grown now, but we don’t know how to get it back to good

But everyone here, knows everyone here is thinking about somebody else
It’s best if we all keep this under our heads
I couldn’t tell, if anyone here was feeling the way I do
But it’s over now, and I don’t know how, guess it’s over now
Tthere’s no getting back to good

That's a Matchbox 20 song that I loved (and still love) at the height (or the beginning of the ascent) of my alcoholism.

Anyhow, foofy feel goody-ness aside, I was a serious harcore slut for most of my adult life. Really, for ALL of my adult life. And if you (cringe) look back at the first year of my blog, which is one big drunk-a-log, you can see me revelling in that fact. I drank, I drugged and I fucked around. And I was proud of it. Or was I?

A friend in the rooms was talking about her SL addiction yesterday, about how she missed the thrill and the rush that came with sex. All I remember, to be honest, is the empty feeling the next day. The shame, the absolute self-loathing. The amount I had to drink first to DO those things, and then to convince myself it was no big deal AGAIN. And it just became so run of the mill. Threesome? Sure. Foursome? Sure. Gangbang? Sure. Blech.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not writing off sex for good. I'm not even writing off deviant sex for good. I just want something different from it. (Fuck you, G, I know you're reading this and gloating makes you a bad person!) I want to share something special with someone that I think is special. Insert hallmark flowery card here, please.

Seriously, I have spent my whole life using sex as currency. First I used it to get what I perceived to be love. Then I used it to keep what I perceived to be love. Then love fell out of the equation entirely and I used it to get and keep like-minded preferably affluent company. Then I used it to generate income. Then I used it to keep a constant supply of whatever it was that I needed at bay at all times - drugs, booze, sex, money, affection, attention, whatever. At some point it just became completely unimportant who was on the other end of the equation. Fuck you, fuck him, whatever, who cares? It wasn't intimate, it wasn't even pleasant a lot of the time. That's okay, though, I was too drunk to notice or care. And so was he/she/they most of the time. Sex is about as intimate as a handshake to me.

I can't pinpoint when alcohol and/or drugs became a mandatory part of sex for me, but it was a loooong time ago. Drinking is foreplay as far as I'm concerned. Suggest we leave the bar early to have sex and you're going home alone. Don't worry, there's a hundred other "you's" in the bar tonight, and I'll go home with one of them.

Enter my new intimacy issues. For someone who would fuck someone just because she thought they told a funny joke at the bar, I sure as hell can't stand to be touched in sobriety. It makes my skin crawl. I guess it always has, but it's really evident now. Touching to me equates to wanting something from me, and if I'm not drunk I can't play along. I'm really disgusted with myself for somehow managing to create a person who can't stand physical intimacy. Or emotional intimacy. I see it as a weakness in people. I think it's a sign of someone who's too stupid to know how the real world works. Harsh.

The fourth step is the bitch of the bunch, my friends.

2006-08-02T15:09:00.000-04:00

I made a weird and premature amend today to an ex of mine. I know you're not supposed to make amends before you're done the fourth and fifth, but it just felt like the right time to do it. I had a burning desire, as it were.

I feel...messy...now.

I sent him an email - a quick one - telling him exactly what I wanted to tell him years ago - that I was in love with him, and had no idea how to show him that. I told him that I expected him to fill the amazing void I felt, and how that was unfair burden to place on him. Of course, now that I've sent that note I feel...messy. It's not about the outcome. My side of the street. I was in love with him and never really told him that - was I expecting him to read my mind? I drank when I was hurt instead of communicating honestly with him about my needs and feelings. I expected him to be everything to me. What kind of a super human being did I think that he was? I wanted him to love me, but didn't see value in myself past being a good drinking companion and bedmate. I couldn't see anything but myself - why is he doing this to ME - when really, he wasn't doing ANYTHING to me - I just wanted the impossible. I couldn't be a real friend, I couldn't be a real partner - hell, I wasn't even a good lover in the real sense of the word. I drank with him. I drank at him. I drank him under the table some days. Not often, though. He really was the alcoholic of my dreams.

He broke up with me because he wanted to focus on work and he felt that since all we did was party, I wasn't really conducive to his plan. His point was valid - we couldn't even go to a movie if we passed a bar on the way - how was he ever going to make sense of his life with a girlfriend that drank that way? (Never mind HIS drinking, LOL, it was MY drinking that got in the way of his success! Do I ever know that story...) And it tore me apart when he left. Ask anyone. I was a fucking mess. I drank until I couldn't drink anymore. I fucked everything that moved. Just to keep all the feelings at bay. Hell, I owe an amends to the guy I fucked the day after he left me - I called him by my ex's name over and over again - I was so drunk I couldn't be bothered not to - and when he corrected me I told him to shut up, and that I would call him that or he could leave.

It took me, what, seven years to deal with that. Thousands in therapy. And I blamed him for everything...my failed relationships afterwards - I couldn't manage a relationship because every time he popped into my life again I had to be with him. Even if it only meant an hour. Sigh. What a mess that whole thing was.

It felt good telling him, after all these years, honestly, that I loved him. He told me once. Point blank in an email. While I was married, after a couple of cute bantery emails. I had to take the rest of the day to think of my response to it. In my mind, I was leaving my husband, and he was going to be mine, finally, forever. Then I replied with a flippant comment, figuring that no way was I going to open myself up to the hurt that would come if it had all been a joke...him responding something like "wow, I was just teasing..." or something even worse.

Man, relationships are messed up!

The weird part is I think he did/does love me, in his own way, in the only way an alcoholic can.

We fell in to bed again about a year ago - for what I'm assuming will be the last time - I think I mentioned it in my blog back then - and while going to bed together wasn't good at all - brunch the next day was really nice. It was the only time I've ever spent with him where I didn't feel a horrible pit in the bottom of my stomach while waiting for him to decide when our time together was up. I, of course, never wanted him to leave. That time was simple, and clean. It was closure. Or maybe this is.

I don't want to drink. I feel a little bewildered. I feel...maybe raw is a better word than messy. Like my soft pink underbelly is all exposed and a pit bull might just come along and tear my innards out.

Should I have done it? Who knows. It seems comical to me today that I was imagining this life with him...we go to work, we come home, we...what? What were we going to do? Raise a family? Buy a house? We could barely afford our bar tabs. We couldn't have a real conversation.

I don't regret our paths crossing. He was amazing. Larger than life. James Bond-esque. A rogue. A gentleman. I was proud to be on his arm, and I was thrilled to be in his bed.

2006-08-01T07:30:00.000-04:00

I had a using dream last night, for the first time in ages. It was pretty awful.

I was at my friend Donna's place - back in my hometown - and this is odd, because I haven't seen Donna in ten years, and haven't spoken to her at all for around six.

Anyhow, I'm at Donna's, and I'm in recovery, but since nobody there knows, I decide to drink. I end up staying the night, and realize that I haven't called my Dad to tell him I wasn't coming home.

Then I start looking for the vodka, because I want to make a caesar before I call my father...I have a horrible hangover, and I need the liquid courage for the call.

When I finally call my father, the conversation is ugly - you can tell he doesn't actually know that I didn't come home last night, because he is also drunk. He calls me a whore and tells me not to bother coming home at all. He says there probably is no "Donna" and wants to know where I actually was all night.

I sigh. I make another caesar. He won't remember this conversation tomorrow, so I can just keep drinking until later tonight and then sneak back into the house. I have a moment where I realize "Oh, shit, I'm not supposed to be drinking....but it's too late now..."

I wasn't a child, I was myself, now - but everyone else was just as I left them.

Knowing fully that it was a dream, even while it was happening, it's still managed to bring up all sorts of guilt, shame and anger. My father HAS called me a whore before. He HAS forgotten entire conversations we've had (including the one where he called me a whore, no doubt.) and I sure as hell have drank even after promising everyone and their dog that I wouldn't. I've stayed out all night and not called.

It's been a difficult morning.

I think a lot of my ick has to do with my fourth...trying to get it finished. I was supposed to do my fifth with my sponsor on Sunday. When I called her on Friday to reschedule (I'm just not finished...) her voicemail said she was out of town until Monday and she wouldn't be answering her phone. I'm angry - even though I didn't want to, and wasn't ready to, do my fifth, this will be the second time in a row that she's scheduled a date to do it, and hasn't been available. At least last time she gave me a days notice that she was going to be busy - this time she didn't even call me to say she was going out of town.

So, I'm on the hunt for a new sponsor - which is humbling and akward. I've been turned down by a couple of people already. I'm in discussions with a woman who suggested I talk to one of her sponsees, which is how I ended up with the sponsor I have now - this time I'm going right to the source, and I'm not settling.

I am resentful at (my sponsor). The reason I am resentful is that she never keeps our appointments, and doesn't call when she says she will. Blah de blah de blah.

It would probably be easier to find a sponsor if I was brand new and still rattling. ..someone describe sponsees as "Pigeons" after a meeting last night, which made me laugh. I'll just keep asking until I find someone in the market for a pigeon. I need to get out of this Step 4.5 purgatory!

2006-07-24T07:29:00.000-04:00

Sigh.

Real life is so complicated. Relationships, parenting, work. All of it. Some days I just long to slip back into that alcoholic haze where nothing mattered but the next drink. Unmanageable? Sure. But at least there seemed to be relief. Now it's just real life with no time off for good behaviour.

I'm tired of it, to be honest. Tired of doing the right thing all the time. Tired of keeping my mouth shut. Tired, tired, tired.

I'm learning more about me, more about my disease. For me, and I can only speak for ME, it's all about wanting more. Coveting, longing, needing...more...of everything. It's not enough to go to the gym once a day, or eat one plate of food. I need more money, more stuff, more clothing, more gadgets. Always more. I can't seem to focus on the here and now and just be grateful for what I have. I need more coffee (do I need any coffee?) I need new workout wear (the stuff I have is fine and fits me) I need I need I need. I don't really need ANYTHING...I just WANT things.

Lately my HP has been sending me strong messages that essentially say "Get rid of everything". I'm trying to interpret that message. I think the message is all about overindulging. I don't need everything I have, and I certainly don't need even more of it. Do I really need to get rid of everything to focus on now? I think I better do it now before my HP decides FOR ME what goes and what stays.

Of course, my HP isn't vengeful, so it's not like I'm expecting a fire or something to come and make the decision about what stays and what goes...but you never know what HP will bring your way to make your decision just that much faster for you, do you?

I've made the decision to live a less complicated life. I'm learning a new profession, and I'm trying to do the best I can at my job. I've got some new training clients who are paying me a nominal amount. I have enough to survive. So why am I thinking about shooting porn again? I know I'm not going to be happy doing it, I know that I'm worried now about the impact it could have on my future...do I really need the cash? I really don't. And yet, the lure of the easy dollar is there, and strong. One hour, one thousand dollars...that's rent...compared to the fifty hours I have to work now to make that cash.

I feel pressure from my partner to shoot - he has his own motivations - and he'll support my decision, but I have to MAKE the decision and quit waffling on it. It is probably hard for him to support a decision I refuse to make...

The problem, really, is that I don't hate shooting porn. I don't love it like I used to - as I change and grow it becomes much less appealing to me - but I do love money, and things, and stuff, and having. And some days I can wear the hair shirt and play martyr - look how I'm changing my life - look how much I've grown - look what I'm sacrificing to stay sober and become better. Some days I just want to go to Sephora and buy fifty dollar lipgloss.

Like everything in my life, I want it now. I want it fast. I want it easy. I don't want to do the work required. I want it handed to me. I want to read the first page and then skip right to the last, and completely get what happened in the middle.

Big noticeable character defect.

Speaking of character defects, I'm doing my fifth on Sunday. My sponsor and I set a date, which of course I missed, and was saved by the bell due to a social obligation on her end....so I have one more week to finish that fourth. Procrastination - also big character defect.

What can I do today to move myself closer to the person I'd like to become?

I guess I can start with cleaning out my closet.