I can't sleep

I can't sleep. I'm sitting here, writing away at one in the morning cause I can't sleep. I think I'm tired, but I'm not, really. There's a lot on my mind right now. My body is just keeping up with my brain.

Adam is already asleep, tucked away nice and comfy in the bed, and here I sit. I could be warm and cuddly in my nice feather comforter, and instead, I'm out here sitting on the floor typing to you people. Not that you're not all lovely people, but I'd rather be sleeping.

I already played with the neighbors' cat and snuck a cigarette. Adam, when you read this, sorry, I just couldn't hold out any longer. Two days was a lot! I got pretty far.

So, what wisdom on sobriety do I have to impart? Sober sleeping is tough. Usually I would have a glass of wine and that would unwind me enough to sleep. But now, I don't know what to do to quiet my mind. That's why it's nice to have a blog. I can talk to myself without annoying the other people in my apartment.

I suppose I just need to lie down and do it. You know, maybe I'll take my ipod with me. I'll sleep with it on and just try and relax. Like we talk about, there are bees in my head (or in the program they call them the committee). They're buzzing about making me think untrue thoughts. Everything is just the way it should be, really. I have to believe that. I can't control the events of the present or the future. I just have to be and let things happen as they may. Step three - let go. I just have to keep reminding myself that a lot. Let go. Relax, Anne, relax.

Dinner without drinks

Ok, so I know there's a kind of dumbness to my wonderment, but I'm blaming it on being sober and never really experiencing life before. Adam and I went out to dinner tonight, to a nice place, and had a bunch of really good food. And guess what? We didn't have to drink a bottle of wine with it for it to taste good. We could have coffee, not cognac, after dinner. Imagine that - You can still enjoy a nice meal, maybe even enjoy it more, without alcohol! I never would have thought of that before.

Before, in order to have a nice night I would have had to pick out a nice bottle of wine for before dinner, one for during, and maybe an after dinner port or something. Eating was a drinking affair. Now, eating is just that - eating. It's something you do for the pleasure of itself, not in order to drink more and get drunk. Life isn't all about getting drunk.

Funny how that is, right?

Get on with it

My dad tells a story about me that says it all: My teacher called him one day to say that I was being rude. Knowing that wasn't like me, he asked me what I did. I said I was reading the textbook and she asked me to stop so that I wouldn't read ahead of schedule, and she got mad when I told her this was my second reading of the textbook.

I have no patience. I don't like to wait till the rest of the class catches up to me. I want to be done with it. I want to play piano right the first time, instead of having to take "lessons" (another story my dad tells - I thought I would just get it day 1).

That's kind of like the steps. The other day I told him someone I was thinking I had to make amends to on step nine and he laughed and said, "But you're on step 3!"

Typical me.

So I'm on step three. My sponsor and I are going to go over it again tomorrow, and then hit step four in the literature. My therapist and I decided 4 is going to be trouble for me. All the "character defects" I used in my youth to help me, or use now, that now only hurt me, are all kind of buried into my unconscious. I don't even know what I do, because all of my emotions are so compartmentalized. I used my intellect to try to control situations in order to keep myself safe. Is that manipulative? Yeah, but it kept me safe. Will it still be good to use that in some situations? Probably. I just need to see what is useful and what is preventing me from learning and growing.

Here I am, talking about step four. Sigh. Step three. Offer it up.

I'm really working on letting go and letting God have it. I'm trying to free my mind of expectations and really just live life on life's terms. Jesus, I'm starting to spout AAisms. I must be pretty sober now.

Happy Fourth of July

It's the fifth of July and I have spent the last three days at pool parties with heavy drinkers. And you know what? I didn't have to drink! I did consume my weight in diet coke's, but I didn't have to have a touch of alcohol. At some point someone spilled a beer on my leg and I felt like Lindsey Lohan, ankle bracelet a buzzin.

I'm off in a minute to another party, and I know that I can have a great time and stay sober no matter what.

July is a kind of tough month. My grandpa died two years ago on the 11th. Grandpa, you say, but they are supposed to die before you! Yeah, but he was really special. He was my rock. He was the one who protected me from the worst, and yet plunged me into difficult situations. If I were a guy, I would say he's the reason I became a man. He made me strong by giving me responsibilities, and he held me up through the toughest spots in life.

At his funeral, I was a mess. I wept more than my mother did.

And after, my whole alcoholic family got shitfaced together. I drank with them all, and when they retired to their hotel rooms I went and sat in the bar. I wallowed in my scotch until Adam called and offered me a ride home. As usual, he always knows when to call. I sure needed a friend that moment.

And now, two years later, I can celebrate my grandpa by doing something good for myself - by being a better woman. I know this would make him proud. I know he's smiling at me from wherever the good men go, and thinking I'm finally making good choices for myself.

I love you Poppa.