“I Don’t Think Any Of Us Can Speak Frankly About Pain Until We Are No Longer Enduring It.”

fuck

The text I was in the process of posting just deleted somehow.  If this is any indication of how the rest of my day is going play out, I’m going back to bed.  Which is funny because I couldn’t if I wanted to considering every morning I work I’m stranded in Madison until the bus comes. I might as well go to work, at least when I’m there I get paid for being miserable. Heaven help me.

What is it like to have a best friend?

I’ve wondered that my entire life. It appears I expect too much. My best friend’s exhusband was just released from jail. She’s back hanging on his every word which means I’m lucky to get a text back. I’m used to it by now. He leaves: she’s mine. He comes back: he’s hers. My sponsor says I’m begin selfish about the entire situation. I’ve cried with her over how much of a shitbag he is for years now. I feel it’s only normal for me to grow tired of this cycle. When I analyze why I feel such a resentment towards his release, I do find that it’s rooted in jealousy. Jealous, at its core, is a selfish emotion. Great. I’m selfish. Now, what? Why do I require so much attention? Mary Ann didn’t invite me out tonight or last night. Kennie leigh didn’t tell me she was going to Chicago. Why does that make me feel like I’m not good enough? One might argue that after I learn to love myself I won’t need so many people to prove to me that they love me. Sure. I’ll buy that. But why then, after three and a half years of step work, prayer, and meetings, do I still feel as alone as I did from the start? I have a theory, one the usually proves true. I’ll start my period next week. Wild emotions always show their colors the week before my period. So much so, that I can’t remember how I felt before. Did Maryann’s absence of an invitation bother me last week? I’m honestly not sure. That’s what’s so bizzare about mental illness, if that’s what this is. I heard in a meeting Thursday that the most insidious characteristic of the disease of addiction is its ability to convince you you’re not sick. When you have cancer, your white blood cell count proves your sick. The weakness in your limbs reminds you constantly that you need medication. Addiction turns a bad day into a bad life in an instance. After an hour, you’ve convinced yourself that you were never sick to begin with, you’re just equipped with faulty machinery that will never function properly, despite the maintenance. On contraire, the truth is cancer patients need chemotherapy, and addicts need one another.

Tomorrow, or maybe next week, I’ll find humor in how hopeless I’m feeling right now, but what do I do in the mean time? Hang on, of course. Don’t use. That’s not even on the radar. Pray, always. I just want a group of people that are going to surround me for years to come, people that never make me question their love for me, people that rejoice and cry with me, people that don’t hurt me. Maybe, that’s the answer! Maybe that doesn’t exist. If I am asking for people who provide divine friendship, I’m not really asking for people, am I?

This is what I’ve missed about an online journal. Sometimes, I’m too tired or lazy to go sit under a lamp and put pencil to paper. It’s not often that I’m too lazy to stare at my phone. Here I am, laying next to husband of 20 days, in a dark bedroom, at 11pm, pouring my heart out to God, myself, and whoever else cares to listen.

How intriguing! That last sentence alone gave me enough gratitude to lift my chin from the dust. Even if it only lasts a moment, I’m reminded of how blessed I am. My bed is so comfortable. There’s a clock sitting on my dresser so I can tell the time at all hours of the night. That’s important, you see, because for a long time, it didn’t matter what the time was. As a matter of fact there were only two times in my previous life. If I was well, it was time to scheme money for when I inevitably became dope sick. If I was sick, it was time cop dope. It didn’t matter if the sun was out or not. It didn’t matter if I had money or not. It didn’t matter if I had been asleep yet. There was never enough daylight, money, or sleep to make up for the way I was living my life.

There’s my answer. It doesn’t matter what it feels like to have a best friend. That’s not why I’m here. I’m here to make this world a better place. I don’t need a best friend to do that. I need gratitude and God. As long as I have that, I’ve received more than I was promised. The promise Narcotics Anonymous gave me was that I would have freedom from active addiction. That’s it. It doesn’t matter if I get into nursing school. It doesn’t matter if I’m respected. That’s not what I’m after. All I ever dreamed for was the desire to live. Tonight, I have so much more than that.

“Every one says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive”

— C.S. Lewis

I got to see my baby tonight!! Oh and my boyfriend, Jess, was there too, heh.  He’s officially put up with my bullshit for two years, today. Shit has been really rough these past couple months and it’s not going to get any easier for at least another three months but today I am grateful to have him in my life. It’s really comforting to know that although I have to wake up alone for now, I can rest assured that my best friend/lover is rolling over thinking of me too.  I love you, baby.

“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.”

— A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

“Heartache is good. Accept it joyously. Allow it, don’t repress it. The natural tendency of the mind is to repress anything that is painful. By repressing it you will destroy something that is growing. The heart is meant to be broken. It’s purpose is to melt into tears and and evaporate. When the heart has evaporated exactly in the same place where the heart was, you come to know the deeper heart.”

—

Osho

Read More on wordsnquotes

(via wnq-quotes)

“Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?”

— Friedrich Nietzsche, Good and Evil

wash it all away

I put my Galaxy S4 in the washing machine about a week ago. Clearly, it was an accident. I was ten kinds of fucked up over it. My parents got me this expensive phone for Christmas because they trusted me, they knew I wouldn’t pawn it like I have everything else in my life. It was the only thing I have that held any value. My mother and I took it to two different cell phone repair stores. Last night we had to give up and accept that the Galaxy was gone for good. It was time to let the grieving process begin but then low and behold my mother bought me another phone right there on the spot for my birthday! I love it. I love her, I love my family. I’m so blessed. Now, there’s more. I think. As the days go by I get more and more comfortable with who and where I am. That’s beautiful. My intensive out patient classes are getting to be more bearable. I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’m just not going to be allowed to work in a restaurant so I best get out there and do something because I can’t continue to let my parents pay for it all. Jess is Jess. I love him, he loves me. We’re trying to work it out where we can see one another more often. He obviously doesn’t handle life very well without me. Oh, wait. You don’t know. I’m too proud to even write it out for you. Why is it that I always get along with the guys better? I went out with a few the other night. One was weary because we’re not really supposed to hang out with other people in our program but by the end he said I was like one of the guys and okay to be brought out like that. Why, thank you, that’s really what I was looking for, your approval ha. No. It still felt nice I guess. Is it wrong to enjoy attention? There is this guy that pretended to be all brotherly at the convention and I found yesterday he’s been telling everyone that he just wanted to fuck me. Now that, I don’t appreciate. I was seeing red last night after being told about it. There was more said of course to make me so angry. I did the right thing, though. I was given that information in confidence so it was not my place to take care of it. I just know that I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he knows that I’m not going for that shit. Even talking about it fuck with me. I can’t count how many times that message has been delivered to me. That’s what’s sick about it. What do I do to attract that nasty and attention. You know, the wrong kind of attention. To be honest, I think it’s because men see and talk to me then automatically think I can be easily manipulated or taken advantage of. And I’ll give them that, that’s usually the case. However, I’m so oblivious to it when they’re doing it that they don’t really get the chance to take that vantage. Then I find out like this, typically from another guy trying to sneak his way into my pants. It’s sad really. Don’t pay me a compliment because I’ll never take you serious. Believing guys like that has helped get me to the torn to shit emotional state that I live in now. Thank you baby, thank you so much. I sound like I’m all negative. I’m not. I just need to make these things clear to myself, you know? When it’s written down it’s always easier to understand, to see what I’m doing wrong or right in their eyes, apparently. We’re going to play volleyball tonight. He will be there and so will he and so will he. Confusing, I know. We’ll see how it goes. It cant be that bad. Right?

ketchup

I haven’t written in a while.  I’ve been to busy being a wild child, apparently.  I’ve been flying, having a few drinks, and sniffling.  I say that as discretely as I can just incase my tumblr begins to get visitors. 

I recently discovered I do not need to take more than two shots of vodka.  I threw up once after three, and I threw up so many times I can’t count when I took four.  I had so much fun but I’m not all that sure it was worth all the getting sick.  I had my first drunken video taken of me Saturday.  I didn’t even remebmer it.  I just heard about it.  It was pretty funny.  I kept apologizing for getting so wasted, saying I promise I didn’t mean for it to get this far.  Then I fell back words, sat back up and said, “let’s get laid!"  It was really funny.  I didn’t like being so confused and sick in the morning.  And I had plans of revenge that night but I got to wasted to carry them out.  Luckily I am pretty sure now that I will have another few chances. 

I could pay attention in this class but to be honest I really don’t think it would help me.  Reading the chapter myself is much more sufficient.  This teacher is about 75 years old and admitted that he’s only teaching again to see if he can do it.  It’s becominf obvious that his retirement, God bless him,

But come to think of it I do need to study for my next class, bye.

“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever known.”

— Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters