One day at a time

All things resolve themselves in time. That's why it's one day at a time, right?

My mom said something interesting to me. "What if your father thinks you getting tattoos is a rejection of him, and that's why he doesn't want you to show them off to him." Oh. I never thought about it like that. Maybe it's not a rejection of me, maybe he thinks it's about him. Maybe the best course of action is to not take it personally and to just continue not showing my tattoos around him. Let it go. No resentments.

I can't seem to sleep tonight. But that's fine, since both Adam and Michael are coming home from long trips and have stuff they want to talk about. I feel bad sitting here upstairs talking at midnight, but I'm sure my typing could be heard around the house as well. Adam went racing this weekend, which sounded like fun! It sounds like he did a good job, too. Michael went camping with a bunch of my old friends, and I'm a little jealous, but oh well.

Anne and the very bad day

Sometimes you've got to dig deep and grab that small part of you that might be excited, and hold on to it. I had interviews number 30 and 31 the other day, and I just don't care. People ask how they went, and I don't know. It's all the same. They're just like all the others that didn't call me back. I'm just feeling jaded. And then Adam and I got into a fight, my dad told me I should never show my tattoos around him, and I lost my contact in my eye. All petty shit, right? But it builds up.

So let's dissect this: my dad basically told me to keep pretending to be something I'm not while I'm with him. He doesn't like the real me - the one covered in tattoos. It's not like I ever curse around him or do anything else I do with others, but pretending to be the "good girl" forever sucks while it's 94 degrees and you have to wear a sweater to cover up your tattoo. Why can't he accept and love me for who I am? That's a hard lesson I just had to learn, and part of the reason I moved cross-country last time. It just makes me want to run away again.

Adam and I got in a fight. He said he was going to come up north with me for the week, and then bailed because he got a better offer. I don't blame him for bailing - he was asked to do something really cool and special - but he does this a lot. "I'll call you back," and then it's weeks before you hear from him. "I'm coming out," and then you don't know his travel plans till the day before, or even if he's coming or not. It's selfish to keep your plans to yourself. I think the biggest part, besides the not being able to plan around his word, is that I get excited to see him and then he bails at the last minute. Sure, he shows up when there's trouble, and I can always count on him then, but I think it's because he likes the chaos. When it's just he and I, I can never trust that he's coming. I don't deserve to be treated like that. I don't know how to talk to him about it because he just wasn't hearing me before.

And that's pretty much it. I'm just frustrated and a little disappointed in people.

Dad

I just went downstairs to get a package for my cousin not expecting mine to be there. When I left, my dad said, "See if we have any packages down there." We. It's funny to be living here with my dad. He loves having me around, I think. He's always so funny.

Damn, on the tv there was just a news report that smoking in middle age can increase the risk of dementia and he said, "Hear that?" Damnit. I thought we were still pretending I didn't smoke.... I really have to quit.

Keep coming back

So I admitted to the room tonight just how lazy I've been all week about going to meetings, and that I only came cause I thought the secretary was going to yell at me for not coming - and she's on vacation! But I went, and I feel better.

There was a guy there who had 5 days, and man did he smell like booze. It's his second time around, but he said he's happy to be back, and really serious this time. I hope to see him again around the rooms.

The speaker was quiet, but had a lot to say. She has been working her program for 24 years, and spoke about how she wasn't really raising her kids before she got here. Her 5 year old used to change the baby's diaper because she just couldn't get out of bed in the morning. I'm glad that, if I stay with this program, I'll never have to say that of my children. They'll never have to see me so drunk I can't bother to feed them or take care of them.

I'm glad I don't come from an alcoholic family. Both my parents abstain, for different reasons. Although living with a borderline is like living with alcoholism, my mom was always able to feed me and keep a roof over my head. Well, I suppose that was all my dad, but my mom was still able to be there, most of the time. My dad is a rock. He's never been drunk or unstable in any way, shape, or form, and I'm grateful every day for his steady influence.

So maybe one day I can be that steady influence for someone else. If I keep working at this program, I'll be amazed before I am halfway through, they say. I'll have a life better than I could have imagined, and the capacity to be there for those I love, and those alcoholics who have and haven't found these rooms.