Monday, May 7, 2012

little things

Missed a dose of my anti depressants a couple of days ago and I’m paying for it dearly today. It always catches me by surprise how fragile stability truly is. It’s a known phenomena for people to get well and stop taking their medications, I had always thought this would be the result of thinking oneself cured, turns out when you feel good it’s possible to simply forget to take your medication as your mind has been freed from obsessing about its well being. So I feel like shit today, but in the way that I know will pass by morning, one foot in front of the other until then. I go to a women’s meeting where in 100 years of sobriety is represented by a group of 6 or so impressive women. As is my burden these days I confess to the dry drunk I’ve just endured and profess my gratitude at the fact that I didn’t drink. No one offered to sponsor me, and of course it’s never that simple. I begin tonight the leveling of my pride which precedes asking someone to help you through the steps. I miss Pam all the time. I leave the comfort of these women feeling more lost and alone than ever. Another meeting is the only thing I can think of that may bring some solace. I saunter into an 8 o’clock 6 minutes late only to be greeted by the cultish crowd that is the ‘young people in AA’. In the hour that passes I manage to tell them all in essence that sobriety isn’t a popularity contest, they loved me there, yes indeed. Headed home and lonelier still, I try to coerce the ‘not a boyfriend’ to come over, despite the knowledge that he’s busy. Not my most selfless moment for sure. So here I sit, alone and uncomfortable, trying to learn to endure my own company. In these quiet late night hours I know that everyone is truly alone in this world and that to live comfortably in this life it is necessary to become comfortable in ones own skin. It’s so easy to say, of course, so much harder to do. I begin by trying to engage myself in the things about me that I deem likable. I am a writer, I find some comfort in the simple act of putting thoughts into words. I am an artist, I make things with beads. I find some comfort in working on a piece of jewelry in the process. I am a dog lover. I find some comfort in the quiet presence of my dog at my side. I put clean sheets on my bed and prepare for sleep knowing that as surely as the little things can bring you down, so can they bring you back up.

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