It's all the same

Adam and I had another fight last night about my involvement in AA. He talked about what worked for him in his first year; how he fought it tooth and nail, and then gave in to it. "I know it's worked for you. I saw how great it was for you in your first year." His face turned red. "You have no idea! You weren't there!"

And I wasn't. After we broke up I lost my mind. I slept with my boss, I went out to drink every single night till I was so drunk I fell asleep on the train, I acted like the 25 year old fool I was. I was broken by our breakup, and everything about me showed it. But I wasn't there for him. I avoided him. I couldn't see him. I couldn't stand it. The pain was deep, and I knew he wouldn't succeed with me in the way.

When Adam and I get together we often talk about our breakup. "Why does it always come back to this," I asked. "It was a watershed moment in both of our lives," he replied. And it's true. It was something that changed me forever. And him. But how will it work out in the end?

My first date

Reverb today asks, what central story is at the core of you. My core, eh? I have a few stories that have defined my life, but none more than another moment in time.

It was the night of my first official date. Jay was taking me to the movies, and to dinner. I was 15, and so excited to be let out "alone" with him. Of course, his dad would accompany us everywhere, but that didn't matter. We were still together, still almost alone in public. We could walk together and hold hands, kiss in the movie theater, just chat over dinner. I was madly in love for the first time, and ready to share my first date with him.

His dad came in the red van and opened the door for me. Out stepped Jay with a bright red rose in hand, all dressed to the nines. I had on my best dress, and he escorted me to the car, assuring my dad that I would be back before 9.

I don't remember any of the date, but I do remember them dropping me off later to an empty house. No car was in the driveway, and the house was dark. Where could my parents have gone this late? I knew something must be up. Amazingly, I hadn't lost my key that week, and I let myself in the front door. I called out, and then noticed a note on the staircase.

"Took mom to the hospital. Be back for you. Dad."

And I knew. It wasn't just a trip to the hospital. She had no fever, no cold, no broken arm or leg. It was her mind which had gone. What had happened? Why had they left me alone? Why couldn't I be a part of whatever was happening? I sat down on the stairs and wept for the last time in years. How long I sat there, I couldn't tell you, but my dad came in to find me sitting there, and brought me to the car. "Your mom took an overdose. She's ok, but she doesn't want to see anyone." We went anyway, and sat in the waiting room for hours until she changed her mind.

I remember seeing her face; she was sitting up and smiling, but she looked pale, unlike herself. The rest of it fades to black, but that's when I knew everything was different. That I wasn't wrong about how strange things had become at home. I wasn't losing my mind. She was.

Therapy saves my life

"He who thinks much is not suited to be a party member: too soon, he thinks himself through and beyond the party."

I'm following this guy on Twitter who does Nietzsche quotes all day. I liked this one. I have trouble being in any sort of group, or with group-think. I don't belong to a political party, even. And I think that's where my trouble with AA comes from. I'm able to think myself through and beyond the party. I can see where it has amazing benefits, and it really is a program that was ahead of it's time - something that is transformational. It's worked for millions of people, and failed millions more.

My therapist is behind me on this. "I have you, what do I need a sponsor for?" She agreed, "Many people work the steps with the help of a therapist instead of a sponsor. However you want to do it, or even if you just want to continue with therapy, is fine by me. If it works for you, keep doing it." When I moved back here the first thing I did was find a therapist. I've been in and out of therapy since 1995, and when I'm out of it I'm crazy. Therapy keeps me sane; it's something I can rely on to help me reach inside myself and find the truth.

It works a lot like AA, I think. Therapy is a program of self-knowledge and change, if you do it right. And it addresses the underlying emotional wreckage more deeply. As you can tell, I really love therapy. I rely on it. It's one party I can get behind.

Really? Do I have to quit?

Sigh. I've been sighing a lot lately. I know diet Coke isn't the best thing to drink, but I just read something that says it might be worse for people who have already messed up their livers. Of course, a lot of this article just sounds like fear-mongering, but there is evidence that aspartame is bad for you, and bad for weight-loss.

So is 2011 the year I quit drinking soda? It won't be that hard; I only started drinking sodas when I quit drinking booze. But I'm sure it will up my coffee intake. I drink coffee all day long, unless I'm drinking soda. I don't put sugar in it, but I do put fake, powdered creamer, which can't be good for you at all, but has no calories. No calories is more important when you're on your 6th cup of coffee. Even skim milk would put me at 2 glasses a day, which is good for you but bad for calorie counting.

I'm a little obsessive, I know, but my pants don't fit. Again, I should go for a run, but I'm not going to. Why? Because I'm lazy.

Anyway, I'm out of diet Coke right now and I may just not buy any more. I think I'll be fine without it. Instead, I'll try to start drinking water again. I used to drink a lot of water. I just always have to be drinking something. I have a wobbly wrist problem - I just like to tip it back and forth with some sort of liquid in it.

Something funny happened on the way to the basement

Reverb asks, what's the most memorable gift, tangible or emotional, you received this year? Well, we've already discussed the gift of unemployment, my gift of Europe to myself, Adam's Christmas kiss, and the fact that Angry Birds on the iPad has become an amazing gift of laziness, but there's a nice little gift I just received for the end of the year.

There's a little store downstairs in my dad's apartment building. He has just the basics: laundry detergent, boxed dinners, wine, laundry, and packages. He's a busy guy, with two buildings and 18 floors each of apartments. He seems to know everyone, and is always smiling and chatting when I go down to get packages. He's helped me numerous times by emailing when something urgent comes in.

The other day my dad went down to get something and Mohammed looked especially busy. "You know, my daughter is unemployed. She could help you during the holidays." And so it began. I brushed off my dad's comment when he told me later, but this morning Mohammed emailed me and asked me to come down. Because I can't say no, I went.

And something funny happened. I walked in and immediately he began showing me how to do stuff and telling me how much things were. "So when you get the laundry you tag it like this," he said, showing me where to staple those little pink tags you get on your dry cleaning. Apparently they go through dry cleaning just fine. I always wondered. "Always check id. It's not worth the fine."

"I'm going home overseas next month, and I'll put you in charge. You're responsible. You've worked retail before, right?" "Right," I said. Though it's been a while.

And so right then and there, Mohammed trusted me with his store. Someone saw something in me and gave me responsibility without even seeing me in action. Someone hired me. I know, it's not a full-time job, and it's not permanent, but someone saw fit to hire me after an interview. I'm not worthless, after all. I can work. And with that simple little action, Mohammed gave me some self-esteem back.

Sometimes Post Secret is so right

Don't force me out of bed

My dad keeps calling me today. He's over at my cousin's house painting with all my cousins and aunt, and he keeps calling. My grandma is downstairs in my cousin's apartment that they're moving out of. "Why don't you take grandma to Costco." "Grandma is making cupcakes, why don't you go help her." I know he knows.

My dad isn't great at reading people, but he's developed a way to know when I'm depressed. I suppose if I think about it, while living with me it's pretty obvious. I stayed in bed today till 4 just converting files and listening to music. Just me and the laptop in bed, wasting the day. I finally got up and put on some normal people clothes and ate some breakfast/lunch/almost dinner.

So I think he knows that I'm depressed. I can't seem to function today. It's getting worse every day. I know I need to run, or just leave the house and do something, but I don't have the energy. I'm out of diet Coke and almost out of coffee, and I don't care enough to go to the store. Now that's depression. When I don't have caffeine and I don't care? I have a problem.

I really hope my meds come today.

From this moment

It only took a second or two, but what happened changed the course of my life, and has reverberated till this day. Reverb asks today, what was a defining moment of this year or a series of events? As you all know this year was full of them, but the moment that effected (and affected) me most took seconds.

There I was, peacefully spacing out and partly working on three things at once. In my office with the sunny, sliding glass doors and the beautiful view of the neighboring building's wall, I sat with the heater on trying to get warm. It was forever cold in my office, despite the seasonal weather outside. Piled in the corner were boxes for an event I was organizing, and I had just gotten off the phone with the caterer, preparing for a tasting the next day.

My office mate was out for the day, so the only sounds in my office were the low hum of the radio; more like white noise taking up a portion of my brain. I checked email again, and glanced at Facebook, avoiding the massive spreadsheet on my screen.

Then he walked in. "This isn't working. I need you to go talk to David." And out he walked. A second, a moment, that's all there was. I didn't know what to think. Just last week he told me I was doing a great job, so I wasn't sure what the reprimand was referring too, but I had a feeling, a feeling deep in my gut that something was really wrong.

I walked two offices over to HR and closed the door. I sat in his black leather swirly chair, and said plainly, "I don't know what just happened. What just happened?"

"Anne, we have to let you go."

Let me go? Let me go where? What would happen without that space behind the big oak desk? "We won't contest unemployment," he said. "Let's go get your things."

And so I walked out. In minutes it was over. I was in my car, weeping for the first time in months. I was stunned. Everything would have to change. Even with unemployment I wouldn't be able to stay where I was; I would have to move in with my dad. Medical insurance companies would deny me medications, and I would have to desperately hunt for the pills that keep me alive. My dog would go to my mom to live, along with my car. I wouldn't find a job in this economy. I wouldn't be able to keep my life. Everything would change.

And everything did change. Now, I sit here on the beige couch under the single floor lamp ignoring the spreadsheet of jobs in front of me, and occasionally glancing at Facebook. I've been unemployed for 4 months, and I've worn a spot in this couch. Everything changed.

Angry birds took my sleep

I totally forgot how satisfying it can be to play video games. Michael turned me on to this game called Angry Birds, and now I just can't stop playing it. It's nice to have something to go to when you can't sleep, and this is just as mindless as drinking but it's only making me frustrated and laugh instead of drunk.

I used to play video games as a kid. I had a Nintendo and would play baseball, Mario, and Bubble Bobble (look it up, it's awesome). I used to come home from school and my mom would be playing, and so I would pick up the other controller and together we would beat different games. It was fun to play, and to bond, and to space out. I suppose you learn all sorts of stuff from video games without knowing it, but I really just like the little puzzles.

I can't sleep. I just tried and laid down for an hour. All I got out of it was the urge to reply to an email I had been avoiding. It was my friend Roberta on the other coast asking me how my love life is. I was helping her plan a second date when she asked. I just didn't feel like replying, "The only person outside my family I ever see is Adam," and she knows the story, there. I replied, and told her I was just going to join a nunnery and live vicariously.

You know I haven't dated anyone in 3 years? It's strange. I've never been single this long. In fact, I was never single from the time of my first boyfriend until I broke up with Adam. And then I only had a few months before Michael and I started dating. But since Michael there's been no one. That's kind of sad.

No excuses

“One definition of a coward is simply, someone who makes a lot of excuses. Most of us have enough excuses to last a lifetime. The sooner we let go of them and get on with living, the better off we are.”

God do I hate when my bipolar rears it's ugly head. I try to keep it in check with my meds and not let it have the better of me, and I think I do a really great job of it. I don't let it become my excuse for bad behavior, or alternate behavior. I don't let mania be an excuse for treating people poorly, or depression an excuse for abandoning my friends. I don't make excuses for my behavior - I like to take responsibility for myself. Just because I have a mental illness doesn't give me license.

And I remember all these things, even when my symptoms start presenting themselves. I suppose it's a good thing to have them every now and again so I can remind myself why I take medications and how hard I really do fight to be "normal." I try hard to be a good person. I try to be optimistic and loving. I try really hard, all the time. And sometimes I just can't do it anymore. I know it's the lack of the meds that's doing it this time. Is that an excuse? Can I start acting depressed? No. But is it honest to hide how I'm feeling? Shouldn't I tell the person I'm living with, or people I'm interacting with? No. I'm really good at faking happy. I can do it a little longer till the meds come.

Ugh, I hate feeling like this. I feel so vulnerable and weak. I feel like any arrow, not even a well aimed one, could seriously hurt me right now. I just need to curl up and do nothing till this blows over. What a week to need to be alone. My entire family is in town. I won't get any alone time. Half this post was spent answering questions and then trying to get my typing groove back.

Ducks on the wind

Tonight I had to take one of those little tests doctors give you every couple of weeks to see how you're doing, and I answered honestly, as usual. "A little on the depressed side, I see," she said. And yeah, I am. I do have all the symptoms of depression, minus the planning to kill myself thing. I'm feeling tearful, sleepless, not hungry, irritated at myself, not interested in things, etc, etc. I do sometimes have trouble when I'm on the metro. I think about jumping in front of the trains, or pushing someone else, depending on how I'm feeling. I usually either stand really far from the platform, or stand on the edge and let the wind from the oncoming train push back my hair.

That's what I was doing tonight. I stood there at the edge, listening to the rumble of the train coming into the station, and thought about timing. How late would you have to jump to go under the train, not into the window. But I never thought of doing it - it's just an intellectual enterprise. Again, a test I wouldn't think to do. But I did close my eyes when the train was upon me and let it grab my hair and sweep it back from my face.

There were ducks in the park again. The park between the metro and the therapist has a flock of ducks that live in it, apparently. Every week they are just hanging about, looking like they're about to settle in for the night. They wander about the length of this small park and quack almost in unison. Ducks don't seem to mind the cold or anything else, for that matter. They just waddle a bit when you are closing in on them, but they don't run, they're not scared. I wonder what it would be like to be a duck? I'm sure ducks don't get depression for no reason. I bet ducks in cages get depressed, but anything living in a cage must at some point hate it's life.

I don't hate my life. I don't hate myself. I'm just depressed.

Til the sun turns black

I'm sitting here listening to melancholy music, and that's where it starts. I start listening to it, and it's really just echoing how I feel inside. I often don't know it until I find myself wanting to weep along with the low howls of Ray Lamontagne's voice. "Time goes slowly when you're only waiting, Till the sun turns black." The lyrics to this song aren't that depressing, but try any of his others, really. They're all beautifully done, but can be horribly depressing.

Anyway, I can feel the lack of Abilify. I can feel the cracks in my armor generating, slowly creeping up from their origins, reaching for me like tendrils. I can see myself in bed, curled into a tight ball to protect myself from something, the something that's coming. I can see the tears rolling down my cheeks, the self-pity hammering me into bits. It's coming. I can tell.

I'm out of Lexapro as of tomorrow. I'm praying my meds get here tomorrow. I don't know how long I can go without the Abiilfy before I just want to stay in bed all day and cry. As of now, I just want to stay in bed, but I can't sleep and I can't cry. I want to sit under the showerhead and weep, but I can't get it out yet.

I suppose being off meds for a day or so might actually help me. Instead of being chemically balanced I can be a little unbalanced and more able to feel things. But I'm afraid. My therapist and I talked about anger tonight, and all the anger I have bottled up that I can't even touch. I used to punch things and break things until I discovered drugs. Now that I don't have drugs, what am I going to do with all that anger? Should I go off meds while I have the chance and just let myself really feel? Really get angry and bring up all those old emotions? I suppose under the guidance of a therapist and a psych doc I could do it and they could stop my little experiment any time by putting me back on meds.

Bad idea. I know. Experimenting with your sanity probably is up there with jumping off a building to test gravity. So, we're not going to do that. We're going to wait patiently for our drugs and then immediately take them in their proper doses. Just like always. And we'll deal with our anger another day.

Rule 62

"Taking yourself too seriously is mental vanity."

Have you heard that yet, in AA? Rule 62, Don't take yourself so seriously. I think a lot of people in the program have this problem. To spend all your time focusing on digging out the inner you by looking at your faults and then trying to remove them... it always seemed to me like an effort in self. Sure, it's about trying to be a better person in the world, which benefits everyone, but it's a great tool for looking inward and focusing your attention on yourself. And even the Big Book says that alcoholics are by definition selfish. So it makes sense that this becomes a self-involved program.

But there is this "rule" that I love. Don't take yourself so damn seriously. Adam has it written somewhere, and I always have to remind him. He takes himself very seriously sometimes. I probably don't take myself seriously enough. I think about myself a lot and my needs, but I sure as hell don't act on them. I have a tendency to act according to other people's needs. I don't look out for myself enough; say what I need and not take no for an answer. I worry too much about others.

And I think that's a codependent behavior, right? Again, it comes down to the underlying emotional problem, not the alcoholism. I really believe that I can't drink like normal folks, but it's because I have emotional problems and baggage. Will I be able to drink once I get rid of those? Well, that's a trick question: you never truly get rid of your emotional baggage. It's always there. Sure, you can strive to be perfect, but then you're taking everything too seriously, again.

Life is fun! Or at least, it should be. Misery is optional.

Grow up, kid

Every now and again we talk about emotional sobriety here. It's an old topic. Even Bill talked about it in 1958.

"Emotional sobriety encompasses our ability to live with balance and maturity." I like that definition best. But what is maturity? It can be defined as "how a person responds to the circumstances or environment in an appropriate and adaptive manner." So emotional sobriety is your brain catching up with your body, essentially. You no longer act like an ass when out in public because you're drunk, and it's time to stop opening your mouth and letting every thought out, or never opening your mouth and talking about your needs. It's time to grow up.

I think this is where my problem lies. I do oftentimes open my mouth a little too much and let people know what I need, but if it's important I tend to keep it under wraps after a while. I usually speak up once, and let it go at that. I am ridiculously honest, which can be a fault and a benefit.

So how do you be mature? There's something great from WikiHow about how to be mature. Learn manners (check), use proper grammar (check), be slow to anger (sometimes check), be an active listener (check), don't swear except to make a big point (ummm... damn.). It's a great list of do's and dont's for how to be mature. And it proves there really is a WikiHow for everything.

Space, the first frontier

Man am I spacing out. I keep sitting here and then drifting off into space. I'm not even thinking about anything. I'm just... spacing. I don't know what's wrong with me today. I think there's just so much on my mind that my mind has given up and just gone out without me. I'm even watching a movie and I keep watching, and then spacing out on that, then going back to the computer....

Wow, I was just gone for another ten minutes. It's taking me forever to write a post that I'm not even writing anything about. Adam just told me not to overthink, and so I think I'm just underthinking. I'm not even thinking about the obvious. Damn.

3 year angry men

"After a 3-year abstinence, men from the recovering alcoholics group displayed greater signs of hostility and covert aggression. They were different from non-alcoholics on measures for indirect aggression, irritability, negativism, suspicion, resentment, and guilt."

Interesting. Apparently the aggression and anger doesn't just go away when you stop drinking. DUH. Jesus, really? They had to do a study? There is a thing called sobriety, which is excluding substances from your system, and then there is a thing called emotional sobriety. Emotional sobriety is where you take responsibility for your actions and try to change them for the better. Which is what a lot of people do through the steps, or through prayer and meditation.

Adam and I talked about it the other day, and we both agreed that alcohol is but a symptom of our emotional problems. He told me today we have a lot of the same problems, and he's right. We are both a little contrary, a little aggressive sometimes, not great at saying what we need. It leads to some miscommunications between us.

You know, though, I don't know how much clearer I can be about anything big. It's just the little stuff we argue about, like tonight I thought we were going to dinner and he thought I had eaten. Neither of us voiced anything about dinner, just made assumptions. And you know what assumptions do. We argue like little kids, too. He pinched me tonight! Bastard. I don't know what this has to do with the article. I'm just rambling at this point. See, I just got home from his house and we took a nap together, again. I love it. It's so comfortable to be with him. He's a great cuddler, but I just wish he would kiss me. I just wish he would be spontaneous and dangerous sometimes. He's much more of an overthinker than an actor. I can't expect him to be anything he's not, but I'm so afraid to make any sort of move for fear of rejection. We'll never get anywhere this way.

Damnit.

Packages, packages

So I'm officially out of one med, almost out of another, and I only have the third one because Michael gave me his supply. My meds are supposed to be here this week, and I really hope it's today or tomorrow. I have a withdrawal headache, and I don't feel as up as I usually do, but I'm not depressed or manic. I still have a few days of the antidepressant. I have the anti-psychotic. It's the second anti-depressant I don't have.

It's interesting that I'm on two types of anti-depressants instead of just a higher dose of one. Why is that? I wonder if I could go off the Lexapro and just keep the Abilify. I'll have to talk to the doc. Of course, the Abilify is more expensive, but I feel better on it. It's noticeable. I do get slightly manic, but only happy manic, not spendy or crazy manic.

I had to get four new tires this morning, and it only sort of made me want to cry. I'm really frustrated because it's half of an unemployment check. I just don't have the kind of money I used to have, and I can't keep paying this crap. I'm maxed out on one credit card, and half maxed on the other. And I'm only paying the interest each month, really. God. At least I don't have to pay my car or insurance till February because I overpaid so much last year.

Joy to the world, the dog has come

Reverb: What was one of your most joyful ordinary moments this year?

Ordinary? Well, I could say getting cookies in the mail, when Adam came out of the airport, or getting fired, but none of those were ordinary moments. All of them were once in a lifetime, or extraordinary events. But one thing that happened all the time made me especially happy one day.

I had had a bad day at work, as usual. I was feeling like I wanted to scream, or cry, or both. My boss just... well... he was just him. I left work downhearted and walked to my car across four lanes of traffic, in the concrete jungle. I was thinking how I just needed to get away, how I needed a new job, how I was just depressed. I had been depressed for half a year, at least. Just a low level depression, but enough to put me to bed at 8am every night.

I drove down the highway contemplating change. Anything to get out of where I was - to feel better. I thought about going home for a week, or just upright moving somewhere else. I thought about taking a day off and heading for the mountains. I daydreamed all the way home.

But when I walked in the door I was greeted with squeaking and kisses. He leaped into my arms and licked my face, and I was happy again. Just that simple love of a dog made everything else alright. Everything in that moment was joy and love; the love of a little dog.

And now he's over at my mom's, and has really become her dog. It makes me a little sad, and I miss him, but both of them are happy, and that makes me happy. I'm glad I could give her something to love that would love her back in the same way.

So one tiny little dog has caused innumerable joy across my family. Thanks puppy.

Recap: National Football Day

So I didn't make it on a run today, but I did get to see Emily and her family. She's in town for a week with her family visiting her parents and I got to go over and eat warm turkey sandwiches with lots of gravy, and homemade apple pie. Oh man, so good. The pie especially. It was easy, too, they offered me a beer and I just said no. When they started mixing up the Bailey's milkshakes I just said I should get going and headed back home. I blamed the snow, but I really didn't want to hang out while they all got wasted. They're a very drunk family, but very funny and wonderfully supportive.

Adam texted this morning, after reading yesterdays post, and said, "Sometimes you're really thick." I honestly don't know what he means. I honestly don't know what you mean! He's been telling me he doesn't know how he feels about me, and that he doesn't want anything, so why shouldn't I believe him? It was a wonderful kiss, but I am taking it as just that: a kiss. It doesn't mean he wants me, unless he says so. Right? I mean, I'm trying not to read into anything. I'm trying to be objective here. 3 weeks ago I would have taken it as a sign of something. Should I? I told him I'd come back and test the mistletoe again, but he didn't text back.

Anyway, I had pie, again, so it's time to go for a run tomorrow. I'll have lots of time to space out or think then. I'll probably space. It's nice to just stare at the scenery when you run. It's like meditation time. You get to clear your mind of everything but the sound and feel of your feet hitting the pavement and the feeling in your lungs. Sometimes I count my steps just for the rhythm of it. 1,2, 3, 4....

Mom

Ok, I am mad at my mom.

"I couldn't stand the pain and emotional distress of a reunion like that again so please understand when I turn down any future invitations. You mean well, I know, but you inflict pain where you do not mean to and I can't allow myself to be hurt again.

I love you very much. I want with all my heart for you to be happy. I wish I could make you happy. Some things we must do on our own and finding happiness is one of those things."

Seriously? She's accusing me of wanting the family to be together again. I'm not a child. I know that's not going to happen. I just hate that she has to do something like that. It makes me not trust her anymore. She's just so freaking crazy. But I get it. It's hard for her. It's trying to be with a family you abandoned.

Damnit. I have a new resentment.

Mental illness isn't cool

Ok, I hate "I can haz" cats anything, but this one caught my eye over on If You're Going Through Hell. She's got a great blog over there, and tonight she was talking about how teens in England think it's cool to be mentally ill. I can see where they're coming from. There's a lot in the news about cutting and anorexia. Every actress has admitted to it already. I can see where they would think it's a way to be popular, to fit in.

But it's just not as cool as it seems. There are some horrible things that come with mental illness. You can lose everything and everyone in your life. Money flies out of your hands (if you're manic), or you can't physically force yourself out of bed (depression). I've been weeks without a shower before because I just didn't have the energy to do it. It was just too overwhelming. That's not cool, that's stinky. And when you have cuts all over you you do nothing but worry people and invite infection. And you end up with horrible scars. My friend Lisa has huge scars all over her thighs and it's just horribly depressing.

What worries me are those pro-ana websites. I worry about girls who think that kind of thing is attractive. I've never met a man who thought so, or a woman. It's just scary and sad. It's a horrible mental illness that can lead to death, so please don't purposefully do it to be cool. God, having daughters would be so hard. Having kids will be hard.

I saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas day....

It was a merry, merry Christmas for me. I hope it was for you, too! It even snowed a little. We're supposed to get more tomorrow, and it's supposed to stick. I'm so happy!

Adam and my mom came over to hang out with my dad's family for Christmas. My mom emailed me later to say it broke her heart to hang out with all those happy people that she was "ripped away from." Come on. She initiated the divorce, it's been 17 years, and my dad only went through with it because we had to commit her and she ran away to Europe and disappeared. What the hell was he supposed to do? I saw how it broke his heart, and she's lucky any of them talk to her. But they're all bigger people than that. They like her, crazy or no. It just bugs the hell out of me. She makes herself the victim, the martyr. Ugh. Gross. Take responsibility for yourself!

Adam and I went to a meeting after dinner, and hung out with one of his friends. He and I went back to his house so he could give me a present. He got me the most awesome present! He knows what I like. I'm wearing a necklace he gave me 7 years ago for Christmas. He noticed, of course. We were walking out the door and he said, "You missed your opportunity," and pointed up. There was some mistletoe. I reached up and kissed him on the cheek, and he pulled me back in under the mistletoe and gave me a long, wonderful kiss.

In the car he said, "I don't want to over analyze that kiss, I mean, I'm in no place to date," blah, blah, blah. I don't know what he's scared of. Getting hurt, I'm sure, but aren't we all afraid of that? Don't we have to take risks? Look at me, yelling at everyone tonight. I'm the Christmas Grinch!

No, really, I'm not upset. I'm happy for the kiss. I really enjoyed it. I love his lips, his kisses. Sigh.

Merry Christmas!!!!

Sober, not somber

I went to that holiday party tonight. The one I was going to bail out of. My dad convinced me to go. "Cathy and Laura are both pregnant, so they won't be drinking. And I don't drink. Plus, you've got to learn how to be around people who drink. Just have some water, it's what I do." He's a smart man, my pop.

So I went, and it was fine. The boys were all drinking home brewed beer, and I had a moment of panic when they didn't have diet Coke, but I was fine with water and cookies. I think my cousin had A beer the whole time, and Mike maybe had two. So it was basically a sober evening. And you know what? It was still fun! We were able to laugh and play with my baby cousin without being drunk. We watched old movies and Yo Gabba Gabba.

Oh, and I ate my share of cookies. I had a sugar cookie, a chocolate chip cookie, one of those ones with a Hershey kiss in the middle....

God is the fabric of your life

I went to Christmas mass with the family tonight and got to see a lot of little kids doing the Christmas pageant and singing while dressed up as angels. They had the little tinsel halos on, just like I did when I sang in the choir as a kid. Some things never change.

I sat there, well, stood there because there were too many people, and listened to kids read the gospels and letters about Jesus, and listened to the incredible Christmas carols by the church choir/band. Usually I hate that church because they have a band, and I don't want a bunch of people up there making up songs or singing stuff written in the 1970s. I want something written in the 1790s. I like the original sounds of Christmas, besides Mariah Carey, of course.

But the best part of the mass was the homily. The priest commented on a man he met earlier in the day who he had to turn away from the free lunch program because they had closed for the day. It was the man's birthday, and so the priest gave him a dollar for every year of his life. "Since you can't come in here, where are you going to go?" "Assembly of God is open," he replied. The church roared with laughter. See, Assembly of God isn't a Catholic church, but it is right down the road.

And the priest's point was, and he said: "God is in the fabric of everything. He's in the fabric of that man's life, he's in the fabric of my life, and he's in the fabric of yours."

God is everywhere. He's in all things we do, and all things we see. He's everywhere. He's in the flowers and the animals, the people around you, the snow or the sun. It's pretty amazing. And what a nice thought at this Christmastime. I keep getting away from the church just because I never want to wake up on Sunday's, but I do like going to church. I think I'm going to start getting up again.

I ran!

I got my ass off the sinking spot on the couch where I spend my days and went to the gym. I ran for 40 minutes, completing not a lot of miles. I'm supposed to be doing 9 miles on Sunday. I'm not sure I'll make it, but I'm going to do at least 6. I promised myself I would get as far as the highway.

Treating myself well, including eating well today, has made my day a little better. I feel more refreshed now that I've worked out. I even inspired Michael to work out today. He's definitely planning on doing 9 this weekend, but he says he's going to do it tomorrow - Christmas.

I can't wait for Christmas. I love it so much. I love just seeing my dad in the Santa hat opening his presents. I love listening to my cousin's excitement as he opens every gift - he just gets so riled up! I love Christmas.

So I'm going to enjoy the holiday and try to be good to myself some more.

Uncertainty

Reverb today asks: What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?

I could say the moment my therapist reminded me how lucky I am to have a safe place to fall. I could say watching snow fall and remembering why I wanted to come back here in the first place. I could say a lot of things about this year. But, they might be false memories. I don't know if everything is going to be alright.

There's so much uncertainty in my life right now: joblessness, dealing with addictions and wondering if I can do it on my own, Adam, finding a place to live, medical coverage. Everything is up in the air. I feel like I can't put down roots anywhere. Like the therapist says, I'm in limbo.

So is it all going to be alright? Yes, I'm sure it will be. Do I believe it yet? Maybe.

Paulo Coelho speaks

Traditional religious practices are important: they allow us to share with others the communal experience of adoration and prayer. But we must never forget that spiritual experience is above all a practical experience of love. And with love, there are no rules. Some may try to control their emotions and develop strategies for their behavior; others may turn to reading books of advice from "experts" on relationships---but this ia all folly. The heart decides, and what it decides is all that really matters.

All of us have had this experience. At some point, we have each said through our tears, "I'm suffering for a love that's not worth it." We suffer because we feel we are giving more than we recieve. We suffer because our loe is going unrecognized. We suffer because we are unable to impose our own rules.

But ultimately there is no good reason for our suffering, for in every love lies the seed of our growth. The more we love, the closer we come tto spiritual experience. Those who are truly enlightened, those whose souls are illuminated by love, have been able to overcome all of the inhibitions and preconceptions of ther era. They have been able to sing, to laugh, and to pray out loud; they have danced and shared what Saint Paul called "the madness of santliness." They have been joyful---because those who love conquer the world and have no fear of loss. True love is an act of total surrender.

(Text: Source:
Paulo Coelho writes in Author's Note of the story "By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept")

What is love?

Paulo Coelho is my favorite author. He writes a lot about love; self-love and love of others. He defines it in many ways, and has written numerous novels about it. He says, “Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.”

Ahh, waiting. We've all agreed that I have no patience. Waiting for love is an incredibly hard thing to do, but waiting for unrequited love is worse. It's something you know isn't coming, but you wait anyway. But yet, forgetting is painful, too. Forgetting means letting go; stop obsessing, stop thinking about it, stop making plans. What I need to do is make a decision. Do I forget, or do I wait some more?

I always have reasons to wait a little longer. I always see some sort of potential out there, some sort of something to hold on to. Well, perhaps it's time to let go. Perhaps that's my new year's resolution. Perhaps that's what I'll do: forget.

All I want for Christmas are Mariah Carey's shoes

A wellness toolbox

Develop a wellness toolbox

Come up with a list of things that you can do for a quick mood boost. Include any strategies, activities, or skills that have helped in the past. The more “tools” for coping with depression, the better. Try and implement a few of these ideas each day, even if you’re feeling good.

1. Spend some time in nature.
2. List what you like about yourself.
3. Read a good book.
4. Watch a funny movie or TV show.
5. Take a long, hot bath.
6. Listen to music.
7. Take care of a few small tasks.
8. Play with a pet.
9. Write in your journal.
10. Do something spontaneous.

A little self loving

Like any addiction, love addiction therapy recommends self-care as a tool to healing. Something I'm doing for self-care right now is listening to Christmas music. I love it so much. I can't wait for this time of year. I decorate, make Christmas cookies, listen non-stop to Christmas music, and pray for snow. It really is the most wonderful time of the year for me.

Some other things I'm doing for self-care are eating well, blogging (it's like journaling, which spell-check says is not a word), thinking about exercising (ok, so I did it once this week. Maybe I'll get out there again), and spending quality time with my dad and grandma. I suppose napping is self-care, but not at the rate I do it. I sleep all the time, which is probably a bad thing. I'm just so tired. I can't seem to sleep at night, and then I sleep during the day, almost all day. When I get up I just don't have the energy for anything. I need to fix that before I hit a bad depression.

What else can I do for self-care? I can take a hot shower. I'm freezing in here, and I need to wash my hair. I only do it every 3 days or so, because it's better for colored hair. I have this nice shampoo and conditioner that I treated myself to. It's nice to take a long shower like that. I wonder what else I can do?

Yes, there is a love addicts anonymous

Really, Love addict totally nails it for me. "Enters relationship in haze of fantasy--found this stable, strong, accepting individual." "Love addict acts out anger & revenge, turns to affairs and addictive sex." "Line up next relationship before leaving current one--forming love triangles. Instant closeness, looking for “magic” feeling."

Sigh. Yes, there is a love addicts anonymous, and they have 40 questions about whether or not you are a love addict. "More than once, you have carried a torch for someone and it was agonizing." Sigh, two. I have that unhealthy obsession with Adam we've talked about. I totally want him and he doesn't want me. I agonize over why he doesn't want me. I think about it and daydream, and dream, about the day we'll be together. And it makes me crazy. These are totally love addict responses.

So what to do? I'm sure as hell not going to go to more meetings, even if there were some in the area. I have enough trouble hitting AA meetings. So what do I do? I'm sure someone out there would say to use the steps. Do a sex inventory. Make amends to all the people I've cheated on (all of them except Adam). Most of my amends list is just these boys anyway. I suppose it's time to start working on my co-dependency problem.

A lot of the info out there talks about not being able to let go; remaining friends with all your exes; keeping them in love with you. I do that. Michael admitted he's still in love with me, and I do everything to keep it that way. We have sex when I see him (though we hadn't for months), I let him take me out to dinner, etc. I'm great friends with all of my exes, even the fiance I left and cheated on. I don't know why, but he still talks to me. A lot of them talk about how I'm the one who got away. They're crazy! I was a manipulative bitch who cheated on them, and they all know it!

Love addict. Co-dependent. Totally makes more sense than commitment-phobe.

Love addict?

The title of the article below is "Healthy Sexuality for Co-Dependents." Co-dependency is defined as "is a tendency to behave in overly passive or excessively caretaking ways that negatively impact one's relationships and quality of life. It also often involves putting one's needs at a lower priority than others while being excessively preoccupied with the needs of others."

The article says: "Our sexual energy may be blocked. Or for some of us, sex may be the only way we learned to connect with people. Our sexuality may not be connected to the rest of us; sex may not be connected to love – for others or ourselves."

Sex has never been connected to love for me. Sex for me is a way to get to know people better, to connect to them. It's just something fun to do. I always worry about the other person and if they enjoy it, and Michael always said I get really passive. I'm not a passive person at all, I don't think, but during sex I totally am.

I'm not sure what any of this means, or how to fix it. There's tons of stuff out there about sex and co-dependency, but I just can't weed through it all. I know I don't have an addiction, per se. I guess the best description is a love addict/avoidant person.

In that last article it has a chart, and one of the things a love addict/avoidant does is "Avoidant gradually becomes distant and shuts down, abandons relationship in some way." That is totally me. Remember when we were talking about commitment issues? This sounds more like it. I idealize and obsess over the person, and then pull away, often getting angry at the person for no reason whatsoever. Fascinating.

I'm not a quitter

"Don't give up before the miracle happens."

I don't think I'm "giving up," per se. I'm sure as hell not giving up on sobriety. It was the best gift I've given to myself. I feel better, I think better, I drive better. My sobriety is important to me. I'm not going to bars or putting myself in situations where everyone is drinking. I'm taking it one day at a time and committing to myself.

And I'm not "quitting" AA. I'm just...reconsidering. Thinking about whether I want to keep sober through AA. I don't know. I think it's a great program, and I've seen it work. I just don't know if I need it.

A good place to go

"AA is a helpful framework for creation because there is an entire fellowship of people and a bunch of meetings established for you to go to. An active life in AA can be an answer to the question: “What am I going to do with myself now that I’m not drinking?” Being actively involved in AA can replace the absence of drinking with something meaningful, but it is not the only solution available to you. It is merely a convenient one."

It's true: AA is a place to go to replace the bar. It's a great place to meet people who will give you support in your sobriety. And at times like the holidays, it's a great place to go when you feel you can't go to any other party. A lot of people say spend as much time going to meetings as you did drinking. Use that same time to do something good for yourself instead. As of most of AA's suggestions, it's a good one.

It is awfully convenient considering there are tons of AA meetings all over the place. I mean, there are 5 clubs just in a 10 mile radius of me. They're great places to hang out in and meet with people who have sobriety in mind.

Access to meds

Something you would think is obvious:

"...psychiatric patients who reported access problems with their medication visited the emergency department 74 percent more often than those who had no such difficulties."

This is what I worry about. And since I don't have insurance, the taxpayers would be taking on the cost of my hospitalization. What's cool is I have a doctor who is willing to work with me to find a generic that will cost a quarter of what I'm paying now, just in case I don't have a job in March. And I'm sure my dad would help me again if I need to buy expensive meds. No one wants me to be hospitalized or go crazy, and we all have seen what happens when I don't take meds.

There are so many people out there who have no access or can't afford medications. It's just horrible. It makes them even less appealing to insurance companies because they are more likely to be hospitalized. It's just a vicious cycle, and a catch-22.

Is AA the only way?

"From a scientific perspective, the effectiveness of all support groups for addictive behavior is unproven. The only way to answer that question is to attend meetings from all available groups, and reach a personal conclusion about the best approach to recovery."

Apparently there are other resources out there for alcoholics looking to recover. I know about Moderation Management (which Michael says is a bunch of people lamenting about their last binge - last night). There's also Women in Sobriety, SMART, and some other little ones based on books. All of them focus on different ways to get sober, like scientific instead of spiritual based, but a lot of them have meetings, too. It's interesting to see what is out there.

There's an interesting article that talks about what an alcoholic really is. A lot of it is the same way AA lists alcoholics: someone who blames others for their troubles, who gets into tons of trouble, "riddled with self." When I read this, I don't identify at all. I blame myself for my troubles, and know I drink too much. I never went more than 2 days without a drink, but that's because I didn't see the point in not drinking. I never had the urge to quit.

I know I need to go back and re-read all my earlier posts. I know that I have a problem with alcohol, and I was starting to get into trouble. But I'm starting to think AA isn't for me. I believe in sobriety as a program for me, and I'll stay sober, but I don't know if AA is the only way. I mean, I like it. I like meetings - they're really interesting, anthropologically. The steps are really neat - I like personal growth. Having others to talk to is good. All the aspects of AA are good, but I feel fine two weeks without it. I still don't want to drink, and I'm more relaxed. I don't feel like I'm guilty for not going.

But maybe it's my laziness talking. Maybe I'm just thinking too much about how I don't really feel like going. Maybe I'm just still upset about how different AA is here, and how I don't really like it. Maybe I just felt too much pressure to drink the Kool-Aid and I'm not interested anymore.

I told my therapist: I'm a fast learner. I dove into AA and got a lot out of it. I grew, and was able to learn some tricks about how to avoid getting drunk again. And now I feel like I've gotten everything out of it. I know helping others will make me feel great, and making amends is a good thing, but I don't really even know many people I would make amends to, except former bosses, and I won't do that because it would hurt me professionally.

I don't know. I guess I need to go back to meetings and give it another shot. If I'm not digging it after a year, I'll just not drink on my own. But I do like getting chips.

My sarcastic Christmas letter

Dear friends and family,

Boy what a year! It's been amazingly topsy-turvy and full of exploration of both other lands and self.

Dad took a cruise this year with the brothers, sisters, and mom, and lost the straw pull. He had to sleep in the same room with grandma. She's losing her hearing, and man can she talk! She complains about a lot, but she does tell the neatest stories of WWII. Dad got another cold from her, and was down for the count for almost a month.

Dad also broke his finger this year, and arthritis set in right away. He can't move the finger more than 50%, and it's starting to hurt. But, of course, he did wait more than a month to go to the doctor. Silly dad!

Anne also traveled a lot this year, and had an awesome time in Europe. Doing another geographic, she plotted her move to Europe, but it didn't work out. She also got sober this year! Thank God, right? We all know she had crazy addiction problems, and hopefully now she'll stop driving dad crazy with all the dangerous things she does. And, she quit smoking! No more holding your breath when you give her a hug.

Anne really has had an interesting year. In September she was fired and forced to move back home. She doesn't have health insurance, and so is worried about getting her bipolar meds, but thank God for credit cards. What's another $1,000 charge, anyway? She's currently sitting on the couch staring off into space and hoping for another interview.

Well, we've had an interesting year! Hope yours has been better!

Love, Family

My Christmas letter

We just got a bunch of people's Christmas letters in the mail. "We've traveled the world." "We've traveled the U.S." "We all got promotions and the kids are on the Dean's list." So I asked my dad, "What would our Christmas letter look like?"

Dear friends and family,

This year has been full of surprises and alternating relaxed days. It has been a year of changes and growth; a year of retirement for both of us.

Dad began the year with a cruise around the world, stopping in Dubai, Vietnam, Hong Kong and more. He traveled with his brothers, sisters, and mom. They had a wonderful time and made sure to email the kids every now and again to brag.

In early March, Anne celebrated her 30th birthday by going to Europe, and wandered around Paris, Switzerland, and Austria. She plotted a move to Austria afterwards, saying how kind the people were and how perfect the snow-capped mountains.

Dad has been enjoying his retirement, taking long walks every day and counting the ducks on the river. He's decided that Canadian geese would be perfect dinner roasts, and is planning the day when he runs for office and makes geese legal to eat.

Anne is also taking an "early retirement." She moved back from the other coast to live with dad and take a little time off from working. She's enjoying her time meeting up with old friends and connecting with family.

We wish you all a wonderful new year, and a happy holidays!

Love, Anne and dad

I'm so lazy

I went back to bed. When my dad got home from his walk he came in and woke me up. "Anne, you've been in bed all day!" "I know," I said, "But I took that Seroquel." Which is totally true. I've been so sleepy all day. I just want to lie down, still. I should really go for a run. I still have my running clothes on.

Good news! I have an interview in the new year, and a phone interview sometime this or next week (he asked when I was available). The one in the new year is for something I wouldn't be as enthusiastic about, but it's something I've done before and it's a step in the right direction.

There I am getting my hopes up again. I already had 11 interviews and nothing has come from any of them, and now I'm getting my hopes up about 2 little interviews, one just a phone interview. I don't want to get all excited, but they're both here near everyone I want to be close to. I would love the job up north, but one of the jobs here is the same title and more money. So we'll see. Hopefully the new year will bring something great, and soon!

Getting through the holidays

"Don't stay home and mope." Not that I'm moping, or anything, but I'm sure as hell not participating in life. I'm just sitting here on my space on the couch (which I feel is getting an imprint of my butt). I'm thinking about stuff like running, going to meetings, traveling, getting my next tattoo, etc. But I'm not actually doing any of it. I'm just sitting here.

The article is about what to do in early recovery to get through the holiday season. A lot of it is what we've already discussed: don't go places where there is alcohol (or drugs), don't mope, find some AA people to hang out with. All great suggestions. Will I take them? Probably not. Why? Because I'm lazy. I know it. I know it's one of my character defects.

I suppose what you do about that is force yourself to do stuff until it becomes habit. My therapist sent me a bunch of resources like Meetup.com where I can find social activities to get me off the couch. She thinks I need to make some new friends, not that my old ones are bad, but I need more. I think she's right. But will I do it? You know the answer.

Seroquel

I took some Seroquel last night so I would sleep through the night, and it worked, but now I feel like I need to sleep through the day, too. I'm so tired! It just knocks me down like a tranquilizer. I made the mistake of taking a whole one, too.

So I woke up, put on my running clothes, and am ready to go for a run to wake myself up. Will I do it? Only time will tell. I sure hope so. I put on my indoor running clothes (shorts) cause I'm sure as hell not going back out there in 37 degree weather to run up the hill. I'm not sore or anything, but it gave me that cough I can't seem to rid myself of.

Adam called last night just to talk. He didn't have much to say, just wanted to talk and have someone listen. I like to do that. I like to be able to listen to someone and not have to proffer advice.

Ugh, I can't stop yawning! Time to go back to bed.

Hark? Bells?

This is my favorite song. I just love the harmony in it. I love Christmas time.

Oklahoma where the wind comes sweeping down the plain

A little show tune therapy for you, and me.

The limbo elves

There is something afoot. My therapist says it's the limbo elves. Like normal elves who come in and cobble your shoes at night, the limbo elves come in and make sure you're on the right path. They distract you from things or point you in the right direction. They say, "No, no, no!" when you're heading off in the wrong direction.

Limbo elves. It's like mini higher powers at work. They come in and invade my dreams, keep me from getting a job until it's the right one; they know what they're doing. Damn elves.

I'm feeling a bit better. My therapist thinks I'm a little manic, even though I've been sleeping during the day and up at night (which I usually equate with depression), and I'm bitchy. Huh, ok, that is more manic. I guess I've been writing about being a little manic for a while, and a little crazy, but I haven't really felt it. I do know that being this optimistic all the time is weird. We agreed the drug cocktail I'm on is probably the only thing keeping me from a breakdown at this point. Everything is crazy in my life, and I'm fine. I don't even want to drink or smoke. Normally I would be treating unemployment with booze and drugs. It's just what you do, right? As an addict, it's just what you do.

I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm just post-therapy rambling.

Scream it from the mountain tops

You know what's funny? You can have a Facebook, LinkedIn, Yahoo, Gmail, Twitter, or any other spot to say what you want to say, but there's no place like an anonymous blog to say what you REALLY think. F*&K! That's what I want to say. Don't you ever just feel like yelling it really loud? Screaming: It can be good for something other than warning signals.

What's going on over there? You may ask. Nothing, really. Actually, today is pretty good. I got a job lead from my mentor and just followed up. It would be a great position, a perfect step up, good pay, central location, and working with some folks I know at a premier organization. Just what I'm looking for. I don't want to get my hopes up, but I think it would be a really great thing.

And I heard from my professional development group chair (I volunteer for an organization still) and she talked about which committees I want to serve on this year. I am totally open, and I just talked to someone else about a coordinator position which might be nice.

So, everything is fine. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm just grumpy because I got 4 hours of sleep. I don't know.

A higher power in the solstice

The total eclipse tonight was pretty cool. Click here to see NASA's photo stream from Flickr. It was pretty amazing to see that big rock just sitting there in the sky. It looked like it was just hanging there "Like a balloon," my dad said. It makes you think about planets, rocks, gravity, and the expansive nature of the universe.

There's so much out there that we can't possibly be the only sentient-life-formed-filled planet. There has to be other places where souls exist in some form or another. A place where they've come up with their own higher powers. Where they watch total eclipses and think of rocks and gravity, even if they haven't discovered gravity yet. Or did way before we did.

So why would a higher power give a shit about us? Well, maybe when you think like that, you just have to think "higher" doesn't mean "smarter" it can just mean bigger. Something out there is bigger and more important than you. And that's an easy one to see. It's pretty obvious we're little and the world revolves around something other than us. If you believe in the bigger not necessarily wiser version of a higher power, you still have to admit that the laws of physics know more than you do, and the universe is incredibly smarter in it's constant turnings and twistings to keep life forms alive and giant rocks flowing in different patterns.

Whatever you think a higher power is, it made a pretty good show tonight. Happy solstice!

How don't you know?

Ok, so that last bit has been making me think a lot more. Ten years ago I was 20. I was in college, living at home, and had just made a friend with someone in my class, finally. She took me to a bar where I ended up going every night for the next 5 years. I lived in that bar. I took home half the male population of that bar, or more like it, they took me to their car and then I came back and drank more. I was 20, what do you want? So I was a bit of a slut. Oh yeah, and yes, I was drinking underage. Oops. No one seemed to care, and I didn't either.

That bar is where I met my dear friend Amanda. It's where Emily and I left and she got pulled over by the cops, and got a DUI. It's where many a man has serenaded me from the stage, and many a beer has been poured on my shoes. It's where Halloween was every day, and where I broke up fights. It's where I sang God Bless America on holidays with the boys, and where I met Adam.

I don't remember the first time we met, but I do remember a lot of the times we talked. We would be standing behind the dj picking through the book for our next song to sing, and he would give me that great, sexy look he gives. Or he would be playing pool with someone I knew and I would sit on the stools and look on. I saw him everywhere, and I loved to hear him up on stage. His voice. Oh, his voice. He mostly sang rock songs, but there was still something soft to it. And there was always something in his eyes.

Ah, a wounded animal. Just my type. We found each other one night away from the bar and connected over finishing a party's keg. Our eyes met, our lips met, and that was it for me. I could never look at him the same, and I could never look away. Something just happened to me. Some sort of magnetism.

Amanda and I were talking about it today, and we just came up blank. There's just something about him, something you can't put your finger on. He just has the je n'sais quoi. And it's like a tractor beam to me.

Sometimes, most of the time, I don't want to love him like I do. I want to just be friends with him, want to love him like a brother. I just want to care about him, and for him, but not want to be with him, not want to give him anything he asks for. But I can't seem to shake it. And it's killing me that he doesn't know how he feels, so he says. How can you not know? Not knowing is code for I don't feel that way, and I wish he would just say it. I wish he would stop acting like he wants me, but I know he can't. He's a Lothario. He's Casanova. He just loves women, and women love him. I don't think he knows how to just be friends with a girl without touching and flirting.

No matter what happens with he and I, I'll probably have to teach him one day. I want to be the last woman he flirts with, but I may end up being the one to teach him about just being friends. Ugh, I don't want to just be friends. I need to make up my mind: can I handle this or not? There's always something in the way, like he doesn't know how he feels, or the meds make him not know, or I don't have a year yet. All bullshit. He needs to know. He has to know. How can you not know how you feel about someone!? I'm so sure....

Five year plan

Reverb tonight asks what I would say to myself if I could talk to me 5 years from now. What advice would I give? What would that 5 years wiser (and still young) woman say to this lost and confused one?

I can only imagine she'd say, "Don't worry, we're all lost and confused. Sure, you were, as they say, down on your luck for a while, but you know what? It was a really great period of growth for you. Don't you remember how great 2010 was? All the things you did? All the things you gave up? You should have been a little more proud of yourself instead of focusing your self-worth on the fact that you got fired from a job you hated, and by a crazy person. Really, Anne! Come on, now, give yourself a pat on the back for not drinking through that one."

Because she's me, she wouldn't ruin any of the surprises, either. "Where do you end up getting a job? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. You'll have to go through it to find out if you and Adam ever become anything but good friends. And marriage? Children? Honestly, 5 years from now? Maybe a stretch for you, love."

I really wonder what she'll look like. Will her hair be shorter? Will it be going grey or will she be coloring it? Will cigarettes have aged her face though she no longer smokes? Does she smoke again? Is she still sober? I hope she's just as amazing then as she is now.

Ah, young me, you were so cool

Dear self,

You didn't do anything wrong. I'm not here to tell you how to live your life, because I know you'll never listen - you never do, you just jump. I'm here to tell you that your instincts have been pretty right on. You know what you want, and you go and get it. You're doing a great job.

I'll tell you some things you already know: that degree? Just a pretty piece of paper, and no, you'll never frame it. It's in the closet at dad's house still in the roll they mailed it in. But it's a pretty green roll. And, yeah, rely on that counseling office a little more. I think you can get out of it more than they're giving, though they'll always be really good to you. Just try a little harder.

You made the right friend back there, and she took you to a place that will give you friends for life, and the love of your life. You already know him, you just don't think of him like that. He's just a sweet and crazy guy, right now, but really look in his eyes - you love him. You still do. You always will.

And that's the one thing I might want to tell you: it's about him. But you know what? I'm not going to. Things turn out the way they're supposed to, and right now there's a me in the future writing to the current me and telling me how it all worked out. Or how it's still going on. But I won't spoil the surprises for you. Just keep up the good work.

Oh, and maybe just throw away the sharp things. You can't hide them from her, but maybe hide them from you.

Love always,

Anne

Dr. Adam says

So Dr. Adam says it's bronchiospasm, which is basically a part of asthma, which is causing my cough. Here, check out the details. Apparently it's very common in athletes, especially in the cold. He (who has asthma) says I can use an inhaler beforehand, but the article says I can do simple things like put a scarf over my mouth and nose, or warm up inside before I go out to run. All things I should be doing anyway. I read the symptoms, and I definitely had them, down to the upset stomach. And I blamed it on coffee. Poor coffee. Never did me wrong.

Speaking of Dr. Adam, we had a nice little chat about how he's always telling me what to do in AA and I finally said it, "I'm not as involved because everyone keeps yelling at me and trying to tell me what to do. AA isn't fun anymore." And he said something I didn't expect. "AA is supposed to be enjoyable. You're right. Sometimes it's not fun." He suggested I find some different meetings, which would be what I'm doing could I get my ass to a meeting.

We tend to argue a lot; he even called me bull-headed and argumentative, which I am. But, he's bull-headed and argumentative, too, and he speaks louder than I do, which makes it seem like he's yelling. He'll get really loud and then stop himself, breath really deep, and then try to start over at a lower pitch. Why do I think that's cute? Jesus, I don't know, but it is.