Bacon makes me happy

"Picture step one as the moment when you open your hands and let all the deceptions, denial, and shame, and fear drop to the ground. And then walk away." Sane, Marya Hornbacher.

I really like this. Admitting complete defeat and powerlessness over our lives doesn't mean we are out of control, like our mental illness has taken over again. It just means accepting that the way we're doing it isn't working. It's taking all those things and letting them go, and then walking away.

Another thing she mentions is that we have to be free of the denial that no one noticed our sadness, fear, and complete dependence. I always, and still do, think that no one notices me. Again, I'm invisible Anne. No one can tell just how horribly depressed I've been. No one knows when I'm so out of my mind manic that I can't think straight. No one sees my addiction.

And I know I'm wrong. My dad calls me on it a lot. "You sound down." he'll say. He says he can always hear it in my voice. And yesterday, Adam called me on my mania. "Are you manic? Are you taking this new toy of sobriety and letting it make you crazy?" Again, my mom thinks it's all the caffeine I've been ingesting, and the lack of downers in booze.

People do notice. One time, I was up at 2am, drunk, and had this incredible urge to cook bacon. I made my boyfriend go get a pound of bacon, and then I proceeded to burn most of it because I just wanted to watch it curl. That's my mania. I cook bacon. I get obsessed with something and ride it to the very end.

I might be a bit manic right now: I'm talking a little quickly, I can't focus, and I'm doing a million things at once. But I'm not taking sobriety to the edge. I'm trying to move slowly, to develop patience with it. That's why I'm going back to step one for a moment. I want to get back to the point of admitting that I'm powerless, and also applying it to my illness. I have no control over the fact that I'm ill - I always will be no matter what I do about it. The thing is, I do have control over how I react to my addiction and my illness. I can do the next right thing, which is going to a meeting and following the steps.