Bibbity, bobbity, boo

Diane called tonight and said I sounded down. I feel down. I don't know. I'm done being here. I'm sick of living here with my cousins. I love them, but I can't solve their issues and they aren't ready to solve them themselves. I think in order to keep me sane, I have to leave.

My trip back to the other coast doesn't start till August, so I don't know where I'm going to go, but I've got to go. I'm going to go home for a little bit and pack. And then I need to go to my other cousin's house in another state.

I just talked to Jennifer, and she agrees: time to get out of here. I think I need to take a break. For my sanity, and my sobriety.

Never a dull moment

I have no maternal instinct. I was hanging out over at Diane's with her three year-old and I had him in my lap. "You're the only person in the world who wouldn't be kissing his head or trying to cuddle with him. You're just sitting there." Like a chair. What? I felt fine, but I was almost uncomfortable. Kids kind of scare me. I don't really like them, either. They're loud and messy and demanding. I'm ok without all of that. I don't get the emotional benefits a lot of people seem to get from hanging out with kids. I think if I had kids it would just be to fit in, and that seems more selfish than anything else.

So I'm pretty sure I don't want kids. Maybe someone else's teenagers or something, but I'm ok without the whole having a baby thing. I like the independent life. Hell, I have trouble staying in a relationship or a job longer than 2 years. How can I commit to a lifetime job? I'd get so sick of it....

Anyway, I'm worried that Diane's ex is going to hurt her. He's pretty abusive and doesn't seem to understand the rules of the world - like you have to pay your bills, clean your own house, and yes, the rules like traffic laws apply to you. He doesn't care about their son at all, he just wants to keep control of Diane. She's slowly pulling away, and I think he's showing anger. I really hope he doesn't do anything stupid. Jesus, her life is a mess, too.

It's sleepy time

Here I am again, with nothing to do and no one to talk to except this blog. It's midnight and I'm hoping to get to sleep sometime soon - like within the half hour. What would help is if I turned off the computer, but I keep staring at it like it's going to get up and do a jig. Instead, the web just looks back at me and waits for my input.

Julie was telling me I need to get some sleep habits. "Like drink chamomile tea and write for a little while before bed. Or read something, but put down the technology." Fine, whatever. But I can't keep my attention on reading anything. I've got stacks of magazines just piled up waiting for me to get over my depression. I don't think I've read one since before Christmas. And a book? Wow. It's been since September that I've read a book.

Unemployment and depression just kill your ability to take part in things you love. So I just forcefully signed myself up to go over to Diane's tomorrow night. It will be good for me to get out of the house, even if she's not the most mentally healthy person to hang out with. At least I'll be with someone else and not alone in front of the computer.

So I'm going to try it - just lie down and see what happens. Hopefully I'll be asleep soon and not back in an hour to write another post on how I can't sleep.

Drunken phone calls

"Anne, I release you of all the resentment I feel."

Why, oh why, do you always get drunken phone calls from family members late at night the night before you have to work? I was lying there close to sleep when the phone rang. It was Diane. She wanted to ask me to help her with an errand next week, and then talked about her day. It was a perfectly fine conversation, but apparently she had therapy yesterday.

"My counselor is pissed at me! She wonders how I can purport to love you if I'm still drinking and smoking around you. So I want to make you a deal. I'll be a sober place to hang out if you'll just hang out with me. I won't drink or smoke when you're here." This is huge for Diane. She has every addiction I do, and is world-renowned for getting out of trouble with the law. For her to even think about being sober for a family gathering is incredible. "Thanks?" I said. "Good enough." she replied. So there we go.

But then she brought up one of her favorite topics. See, on that side of the family I'm the favorite grandchild of our grandfather, who passed away, oh my. I guess it's been 3 years this year. Wow. I miss him so much. He was my rock. I don't believe there was any magic in being the favorite: I called him on a regular basis just to say hi and I love you, I helped him take care of mom. It's not like I was the golden child. "You are the only child of the star child (my mom, who takes up all the energy in a room)." I don't buy it.

The only time my other two cousins called my grandfather was when they needed money. They called him to pay for this, and that, and Diane's sister notoriously used it all on cocaine. But I suppose you can be jealous of something you didn't have, even if you did nothing to build that relationship.

"Your uncle is the head of the family now, and he's stepping up." Meaning he's giving her and her son money for stuff. I never once asked or accepted money from my grandfather. I think she has the relationship all wrong, there. She thought he paid for college for me, but the other night I burst that bubble. "Dad's still paying off my school on his credit cards." Go dad.

Anyway, she's telling me I can rely on my uncle. I have no reason to get involved in any of this crap. He's perfectly capable of handling my mother himself (he's executor of her trust) and I want nothing to do with it. The more she's "self-sufficient," or not reliant on me, the better. I'm glad he's "stepping up." I don't need him. Sure, I could go ask for money, but for what? I'm fine.

"I release you of all the resentment." Gosh, thanks. I'm so glad my older cousin isn't mad at little old me for being the favorite. I'm so glad I could make you feel better by taking care of the family while you were out partying. I hope you had a good time.

An alcoholic practices not drinking

Had lunch with Diane, the crazy cousin. It was nice to see her and hang out and gossip. She had three glasses of wine with lunch and then went back to work. Ah, the alcoholic. She looked through all my Facebook pictures and had the realization that in all my pictures I was holding a glass of alcohol or a pitcher of beer. She said, "It really was time to quit, wasn't it?" Yeah, it was.

I finished my salad before she finished lunch, so she ordered my favorite dessert for me: tiramisu. About halfway through I thought to myself, isn't this made with alcohol? I quit eating it, and I'm going to have to look up the ingredients. I hope it wasn't, but I seem to remember it was made with Kahlua. That would be really disappointing. It's my favorite treat! But not drinking is not drinking, right?

Diane amazes me.

I have done nothing but eat since I got here. Tandoori food, scallops, lamb chops, all sorts of rich and bad for diet foods. But I've had a lot of fun doing it. I've been out with my cousin Diane, too.

She talked to her son before we went out, and was telling him we'd probably split a bottle of wine on a cruise of the river. Her son said, "You'll be surprised. She's a changed woman." This is the kid we call Nancy Reagan. He's been sober all his life, and will never, I doubt, pick up a drink or a drug, unlike the rest of his family. We're all alcoholics and drug addicts, especially his mom.

Diane and I went to dinner. I told her I'd joined AA, and guess what? She was proud of me. We made a little fun of AA, spouting the slogans. I know it's all true: one day at a time, plug in the jug, etc., but sometimes it's corny and funny. I have an interesting sense of humor. I thought she was going to disuade me from the whole thing. I really thought she was going to be awful about it. But she was great. She even offered not to drink during dinner in case it would be a trigger for me.

She was the only worry for me. I knew everyone else would be supportive, but I didn't expect her to be.

Sometimes people really surprise you. This was a great surprise.

Home again home again

I'm going home tonight for the rest of the week, and I'm really excited. It should be nice weather (in the 80s)and I get to hang out with my dad and my friends.

I always love going home. I usually get to have lunch with my step-grandma and my mom, and dinner with Adam. I'm going to meet my friends' baby for the first time, and see an old high school buddy.

It doesn't worry me to go home, except my cousin Diane. I'm trying to have breakfast with her so there's no or little drinking involved. I'm trying not to put myself in a situation where I'll be tempted to drink. After all, I have to keep repairing my brain! Those pictures are damn scary.

Bipolar can make you moon people

Ok, last one for tonight. Just a short story:

When I was 15 (I lied last time, it was 15 not 16) and living at Diane's in New England, my mom was on a serious manic high. My dad had sent me to stay with Diane to get me out of the house while they negotiated the divorce. What I didn't know, was when I came home I'd be shipped off to boarding school.

One day, my mom just showed up. She said she wanted to get away for a bit, and my cousin and I hesitantly let her in the house. It's like a vampire - don't let the manic in the house! Diane had this huge Victorian with three floors and a basement apartment, where I was living. My mom took over the attic floor.

One day, I was across the street at the frat house learning how to keg toss (I was pretty good at it. All those sports made me strong enough to pick one up) and my mom called out from the top window for me to come home. I had spent the last 2 months without any real supervision, and was learning how to be an adult. I said no, and continued what I was doing. And all of a sudden, she mooned us. My 45 year old mother pulled down her pants and mooned a frat house. Seriously? I slunk inside, totally embarrassed.

Eventually, mom just got crazier and crazier. One day she came home from God knows where, with McDonald's, and told me to get in the car cause we were going home. I took one look at her, and knew if I got in the car, I was going to die. She was going to drive us off a cliff in the mountains, and I'd never make it home. I refused. She got really angry, packed my bag, and put it in the trunk. I made it look like I was getting in the car, and then asked to get something out of the trunk. I grabbed my stuff and b-lined it back into the house.

By then, my 6 year old cousin was hiding underneath the kitchen table. "I don't want her to take me, too," he whined. How frightening for a little child. Even he knew she was dangerous.

My mom called the police and accused my cousin of kidnapping me. Yep. The police came, and my cousin immediately called my grandfather. I told him what was happening, and he said under no circumstances was I to get in the car with her. He would buy me a plane ticket the next day.

I stood on the front lawn between my mom and the house (where my cousin was hiding with her son), and told the police officer that he was sentencing me to death if he made me get in that car. He took me seriously, and asked my mom to leave.

I didn't see her again for a month or so, until I was kidnapped and sent to boarding school, but that's another story.

Drinking while driving

You would think I'm manic by how much I'm posting tonight, but I'm not. I actually feel pretty normal, I'm just bored with myself and thinking a lot.

I used to drink and drive. Well, of course, you say, you're an alcoholic. But what I really mean is, I used to drink while driving. I did it a lot. Not just putting beer into a cup and drinking it, though I did that, but learning how to take a swig off a champagne bottle without the person driving behind you seeing. Trust me, it's not that complicated. You just hold your head in a certain way.

My friend Amanda and I drove around the neighboring town one time on the way to a birthday party and finished off a bottle. I can't believe I was just driving around neighborhoods. Usually, I did it on the highway where no one is likely to see you. Wow! Just thinking about that makes me want to smack myself on the side of the head.

I learned it all from Diane. When I was 16 I was going up to her house in New England to stay for the summer and babysit her kid while she went back to school. With a 6 year old and a labrador in the back seat, we drove the 8 hours up there and finished 3 joints and two six packs of beer. Cheap beer, too. I think it was Coors, or something. She drove the whole way, cause I didn't have a license yet, but I thought it was so cool that we could get away with that. I looked up to her. Now, I realize she was only 28 and just as stupid as I was at 28. Though she's still stupid now.

I wish she would wise up to her addiction problems. She's got drug and alcohol problems, as well as being borderline personality. There's that dual-diagnosis again. One day, hopefully, she'll see the light. She's got another kid, now, a three year old, and she's still just as bad as when she was younger. All I can do is be there in his life like I was for his brother, and hope he turns out ok.

Addiction doesn't cause mental illness

"'The substance is not really causing the mental health problem, but it can be a precipitating factor that causes the condition to manifest,' Manevitz tells WebMD.

'In this respect, the mental health condition is already actively present when the substance abuse begins, but the patient just doesn't know it -- the problem is driving the addiction, it just hasn't yet been recognized or diagnosed,' Manevitz tells WebMD."

There we go, a better description than I found last week about the correlation between mental illness and addiction. It's not the addiction that brings on the mental illness, it just makes it present. You had it all along.

There are so many of us who started out using drugs only to realize they were mentally ill, and had been "self-medicating." I know some people hate that word, but it's really what you're doing. You're trying to make your symptoms go away by adding a substance that will bring you in one direction or another.

On the other hand, there are those of us who knew we were ill before we started to do drugs. I started doing drugs to piss off my parents, though I didn't know it at the time, and tried to hide my use from them. I don't think they ever would have figured it out if I hadn't overdosed. They are kind of oblivious to my bad behavior, me thinks. At least, they never pointed any of it out. I guess my mom knew I had an alcohol problem, but it's probably because I called her at 3am all the time. Apparently my cousin used to do that all the time when she was younger, and my mom told her to stop or she would kill her. I love it.

My cousin and my mom went to see an off broadway show last night and called me after. My cousin Diane was wasted, and it made me think about how I'm going to relate to her when I get back. We always drank together and told stories. She was my bad girl partner in crime. But I don't need to worry about it just yet. I need to find boundaries with her, besides just not calling her, and set them into place. I'm going to be fine, I know it.

A nice stressful beach vacation

My drunk ass cousin just offered me a week in Ft. Lauderdale on the beach, free room and board. So tempting, though I hate Florida. (It's an irrational hate, I know.) She said we could sit on the beach and drink pina coladas. No, I haven't told her I joined AA.

There are two problems with that. What do you do when you're sitting on the beach soaking up the rays and used to drinking a nice fruity alcoholic drink? Is it diet Coke time again? Do you just order the virgin drink? I bet a virgin bloody Mary is alright. An Arnold Palmer actually sounds really good right now. Something sweet and cold. So I could totally do it, though I'm totally not going. If I go anywhere it'll be to my home city so I can see my family and friends.

The other problem: I need to tell her I stopped drinking so she doesn't try to wine me up at Christmas. She is a pusher, and she and I always get stupid drunk together. It's how we bond. And what we do when we're too sober to share our feelings on things. Ah, family.

I told her son this morning. We call him Nancy Reagan, he's so sober. He's always been that way, probably because he watched his mom his whole life, and she's a major drink and drug abuser. Classy. He was really happy. He said now we just need to get Diane to do it. Which will never happen. Well, miracles can happen, just probably not with her. She'll drink herself to death one day.

So when to tell her. She's going to be pissed, and try to talk me out of it. She's the kind of person who can cut you to the quick in an instant. She knows where all the chinks in my armour are. I need to be careful. So I'll wait until I'm more sober. Till my program really kicks in and takes over my being. I'll wait till I'm strong enough to resist her persistence, and can stand up for myself. I may have to wait years for that one.