Cabin fever vs Walk the plank

I was suffering from cabin fever; I became allergic to my fellow addicts. Their voices became high pitched, there eating habits irritating, just walking past me became intolerable. As I walked through the corridors the walls closed in, I felt suffocated. Luckily I had an escape route: my grandparents. In the evening I had the pleasure of watching the full moon rise over the ocean, illuminating everything, including my soul. In the morning not only did I have the pleasure of my grandmothers home made scones, I also had the luxury of swimming in the ocean before 9am. Nothing like cool natural water to rejuvenate my mind and alter my energy.

 

Returning to my grandparent’s house surrounded by a white picket fence, I felt calm. A day of lazy reading, lying in the sun. I sat down to Sunday roast; all made especially for me, with love, compliments of nana. My uncle who has been detoxing from alcohol for the past few weeks due to a liver scare has one more sleep as he says, one more sleep before his blood test. One more sleep before in his mind he is okay to drink. He has mockingly invited everyone to meet him at the liquor store, at 10:30 am to join him for a drink to celebrate. Yes very humorous but rather sad. I sense he does not grasp what he is really facing. I sit and smile.

 

Soon after I rushed to an AA meeting, as if I do not live up to the standard quota of the house I will be asked to leave. I have often expressed how I loathe these meetings and they are far to long. Thankfully I have found a loophole, I arrive late and it cuts the time. Perfect kill 2 birds with one stone. This meeting was more tolerable for me as I ended up sitting next to my counselor; I have often wandered if they actually ever attend meetings.

 

I am now "home" rested and fuelled to take it on. My cabin fever at bay, the corridors are wider, and I am saner. There is an added feature to our lounge: a huge computer system that could run NASA. I now need to sit on the corner of the table to use my own laptop. In my corner someone has left a plate of have eaten chicken drumsticks, to the left I had a white spider creeping towards me, I squealed, My corner is not exactly serene but its mine for an hour. We have a loud TV blaring as if we were all very hard of hearing, a gentleman mumbling that he does not condone television, a young girl who made brownies that melt in my mouth and fill exactly what it was designed to fill. Lot's of chattering loads of life.

 

I am going to melt into my brownie, walk over the cabin and drive away the fever. The little things that would normally drive me to walk the plank will help learn tolerance. I am going to ponder what it and what is not, I am going to do this smoking my fag.

recovery smothery

Its not Pretty and It's not sane but for today It's me. 

I am lucky enough to be away from the institution. Tonight I sleep at my grandparents by the sea with a view of a rising moon. A moon that frees me in a way to escape without the use of a substance or a person.

I am in what i think is a state of mixed mania in my bi;polar cycle.

I am what I think is at my wits end in my Borderline personality dis order.

my addiction plays no part of me today, i believe today and perhaps most others it is merely a side affect.

The last few days have been tiring and unexplainable and to unfair for words. 

New people in my wacky house: Like in Cony Island we should start playing "shoot the freak" for fun instead of thirty seconds. 

A session with my therapist that sent me in a wayward spiral.  Much like a slap in the face. Nothing like an out of body experience caused by severe shock to send me down Alice's hole of wonderland.

I am safe under the protection of my Nana's food where I feel I am being fattened up to be fed to the wolves tomorrow. The wolves being the reality of my some what twisted life.

 I am filled with a lurking badness, a suffering wall of nothing. I feel to exhausted for all this "recovery smothery" 

I was told that my mother is my only friend and I cant only have a relationship with my mom, ex lovers and my computer, i said in disbelief  "why not?" I am going through one of those phases whether it be due to one of my psychiatric diagnoses or whether it be by choice. I am going through one of those phases that I want to be left alone. I don't want to be close to anything other than nothing and yet as my therapist pointed out " You don't want to be alone, You CRAVE people" 

 

So are my friends conveniently placed in different parts of the world? Do i purposely fear closeness because I can not handle the idea of abandonment? Am I just full of shit.

Or could it be that I am just scared.

I do know today, I have weakness but I also have strength. With this I can pass this moment of living in my den of sadness, for under the sadness I am glad!

Vexation

I experienced true humiliation and I have no clue how to explain it, for I can not...

I can say, I will think twice before I speak of another again and try to be impeccable with my word...

The Elders

This is to funny. It seems the house of addicts has turned into an old age home. No disrespect as I adore old or more wise folk but this scenario is  just surreal.

A week ago, this lounge was filled with a young "hip" British boy with skinny jeans who thinks very highly of himself, an artist of course, with 2 pretty girls swooning over him as he played his guitar singing "there she goes....." surrounded by them were 3 large boys watching action movies at high sound to drown the "Ménage à trois" As I smoked out the window throwing obnoxious comments. It was loud, it was a vibe, it was playful and speedy.

Now what I have in front of me is the same Lounge, however it is occupied by 2 gentlemen in there seventies (alcoholics) with a lady in her late forties. No movies, no people bustling around, no pretty brit boy strumming his guitar. Instead we have classical music sweeping through the house as 3 elders gentleman A siting on a chair , legs crossed peering from his glasses speaking very high english, gentleman B sitting on the couch, with a very lazy eye and a triangular brow sipping his tea and a zesty woman dressed in a more mature attire uming and ahing in agreement We have classical music sweeping through the house as 3 elders discuss there philosophies on AA meetings to , in depth conversation about iced grotto's and helicopters that swoop into the air. 

Never a dull moment in this house. from the extreme of the youngings to the elders.

I cant help but look for the balance in between these extreme worlds, both behaviours fascinating. I t fills me with some sort of focus other than me, today I wish to be something more then me or something less. Today I wish to be you, or him, or her or they.

No No, this is my mind as it sways from dark to light and never centered. Today I simply wish to be me and be satisfied with just that!

Sleeping in the Rain

Its just one of those days where I feel maybe the less I say is more:

Went to the beach in the rain

Enjoyed

Saw an old Lady in her pink gown, as her poodle ran round in circles, she read letters from her Kids

Loved

Almost got mauled by a miniature dog with a killer bark

Scared

Had a nap

Tired

Went to an NA meeting and sang "keep coming back it works if you worth it so work it you worth it" Yes holding hands.

Smirked

washed some dishes

Slaved

spoke to my sister on skype

Laughed

received a text from the woman I love

Cried

now to land of dreams I go

DREAM

Tot ziens Miss Amsterdam

I am going to take parts of my day to try and understand why I am so tired. Well I guess I will take my evening as it seems i have had a sudden memory loss of what happened while the sun was still high in the sky.

Briefly first for understanding. There is a beautiful girl here from Amsterdam. When I arrived here we became friends. Soon she came to my grandparents house for Christmas, soon i had feelings for her. Well I always had feelings for her. Soon she came on a beach holiday with me for a week. Yes! and soon one thing lead to the other. One night as i tickled her bare back, a back that never ends turned into her turning around and us embracing in a what seemed like a lifetime of passion but really it was only a moment. When we returned to our rehab facility i was in agony. Firstly this is against the rules, secondly she began to ignore me. This turned into turmoil for me. She became another statistic in my world of choosing girls i know i will be rejected by. I think I do this as not to get close to anyone or perhaps to keep myself vulnerable for in some weird sadistic way I sometimes believe if I am vulnerable someone will care. This is not true and i have moved on from this way or have tried. Soon our counselors knew and she made as if i took advantage of her. This made things between us very uncomfortable. I naturally pulled back and became distant. I was betrayed and I mastered this betrayal.

Now 2 weeks later she leaves tomorrow. This evening it was her farewell. When someone leaves the house it is customary to say something to the person leaving. I was second in line. I have barely spoken to her since we slept together and now in front of a whole community I had to talk to her. I squirmed and then my body became tense, I wanted to run. Instead I took every emotion that was seated in my throat and I said " Well everyone knows I have "loved" you, I hated you BUT I do truly care for you" and some other stuff like, you have good recovery, don't be hard on yourself blahdy blah.

The point is I took a risk, I said what was true to me and what mattered. I know she may or may not care for me at all but I know I was real and I was real in front of all. Not thinking how I could be judged, just speaking from where it matters. I am happy I did!

So farewell Miss Amsterdam, beautiful Amsterdam. Thanks for the lesson. We learn from what is presented. I learn from my mistakes, although I am not sure this was a mistake for I have gained far more insight into myself and my whys of the woman I choose. Its all so obvious, i need to be celibate (for now) to be me! 

This was a gift!

Discarded images

always from   

    above

we come from below

        

                                                  

         

and build in play

discarded

As we sit in a circle in group we go around  introducing ourselves by "My name is so and so and I am an addict/alcoholic, today I feel...." Today I feel overwhelmed!" 

My day started with me feeling upbeat and almost high. In the morning group I stated confidently that I am an addict and today I am GREAT, thank you. Soon after group I was asked to come in to the councilors office, where I was questioned about my attitude. This I assume she drew from my remark as regards to have I seen my sponsor and as I don't truly buy the whole sponsor concept. (sponsor being a fellow addict the fellowship suggest you have to be in their view successfully working ) so naturally I mumbled under my breath my opinions on sponsors and soon was called in. 

Once sat with my councilor we discussed a few things and I left feeling a little less high. Keeping in mind I had missed my lithium for a day and a half, denying of course that this could affect my moods. Knowing full well I need my medicine more than any other would know I raced off to my pharmacist some miles away. Funny once i was racing off to my dealer to guard me from feeling , now clean and sober I'm racing off to my pharmacist to manage my moods which honestly are directly linked to my feelings. I got my stuff and much like when i used cocaine i scuffled them in instantly but no effect, i still felt low. 

I arrived at my dietitian, she was running late and i sat in the waiting room feeling insecure playing solitaire on my phone to avoid contact with the others in the room. She called me and i sat on the chair. Took my hat off and dropped all my crap on her table. I took her less than 5 minutes she told me I am sad, I am very very sad. That I need to cry. Unfortunately the only space i feel safe crying in is with my ex girlfriend 

who left me in a devastating way.(after witnessing a love affair with herself and another she did not so gently break up with me, she broke up with me on none other than facebook) And still I feel she is the only one who can hold me when I am down? I ask my self am I some sort of masochist? Or am I just afraid to let anyone in.

The dietician queried why I could not cry with my therapist and and and.... well I had answer of and and and for all her questions. AND... I still can not answer myself 

whole heatedly why I have not allowed myself to cry in 4 months (since the breakup) Is it because I cant or is it because I wont!

I don't like to feel sadness or to admit sadness as I have a weird belief system : If I am sad then that means I cant be doing well. Nonsense as I am doing very well I just happen to feel a sadness, my void is churning. 

I decided to lift my spirits, although

 it was suggested i stay with my feelings, i believe I have. I went off with my camera in hand and photographed images i thought of as discarded. 

The mirror in my camera broke before my journey was done and the sadness rushed in, as to me not having a camera is like a painter with out a brush, a writer 

without a pen, a psychologist without a client. I will have my baby fixed tomorrow. In the meantime i have my eyes, i capture with my eyes to, things are beautiful.

I silently watched  the sun go down behind a sinking ship from the beach and thought, "its OK to be sad."

an african Labyrinth through a disco tunnel

My plan for today was to drive up the coast, then 2 gals I stay with suggested something very new to me. The ride was far but did not feel long and no time was wasted. I love new things and to me on a journey we go...

We drove in land, the temperature was 35 Celsius/ 95 Fahrenheit, the cold air from my7 air con blowing our hair humming to 70's rock music. I stopped at a very shady gas station where I used the toilet. The toilet walls were grey with a stench of urine, I washed my hands with dirty brown water coming directly from the streams that flowed off the majestic mountains that enclosed us in this gas station. Three more hours of driving , through a hole in a mountain with masses of reeds and water on either sides of the road and baboons that followed. We reached the klein Karoo, a dessert where I am from, a dessert with  mountain slopes.

Through the dessert heat we rode, the doors of my car seemed to disappear and it was as if we were mounted on horses and no car. Reaching a dirt road following a omen an omen being a sign that read "Labyrinth"  Yes I to was surprised a Labyrinth in Africa. As we approached a farm house we stopped next to 100 baboons that were being rehabilitated, already my world began to feel surreal. Cantering on my horse, sided by 2 ladies, in a sloped dessert with a clear dark blue sky. I halted as we reached a dilapidated farm house with no doors. My doors came back and I got out of my car.

We were welcomed by a lady in her late sixties, wearing a faded white T shirt with a picture of a baboon and worn jeans. As she walked us to the labyrinth, through the shady trees she explained " to walk the Labyrinth is a journey, you are to walk it in silence, crossing whatever road and where ever it may take you, It is a spiritual exercise to centre you. On your journey you may pick up a crystal and place it where you choose. Once you reach the centre of the labyrinth you may sit in one of its petals and meditate, thereafter you follow the labyrinth out. The purpose of this is not to think with your mind but with your intuition" 

Now without sounding like a tree hugging hippy or some 

self help spiritual "guru" I found this journey opened me and I was taken to this African labyrinth for a purpose. This is how my journey 

went:

I normally shy away from these exercises but I made a decision to let go and let in. I was very excited for the first 5 minutes of my path, the excitement subsided and my stomach began to churn. I felt a very sharp pain and at this point I picked up a rose quartz crystal and automatically held it to my tummy. I kept walking slowly, I became a wanderer. I placed the crystal at an edge of one of the paths and as I walked the pain subsided. I felt calm and taken, taken away from myself or my worries. Again I kneel ed down to pick up a crystal and held to my core, almost as a heeling effect, ironically i placed this crystal on a corner directly opposite from the last. Strange. I decided to walk with my eyes closed and see how I would be guided, always afraid and always opening my eyes just before the turns. I took in the leaves that were at eye level, the sky, the ground and I reached the centre. After 11 circuit Chartres i reached the flower shaped centre and chose a shady petal to seat myself. No there were no lovers to meet me, no medieval crate, no direct contact with God. 

There was some sort of presence :

  I thought of nothing, i felt a connection and for the first time in my 30 years I felt grounded, i felt centre. Even if only for a moment this is a feeling I will always draw from. I journeyed out of the centre and made my way out with my eyes closed. 

As I waited for the others to complete there way, i sat on a rock smoking a cigarette whilst being bitten by red ants. I suppose I deserved the ants as I was smoking a fag in a "sacred" place. Progress not perfection right? 

We were all very serene after this experience and drove back silently for a few hours. We stopped for ice cream and continued to drive. The scenery and the silence was beautiful. As we drove through the mountain pass we turned up the music and danced for an hour in true outrageous style. I was told that it was unbelievable what I could do behind the wheel. Crazy dancing monkey robot I became, concentrating that my legs would stay still. I loved this part of our drive, it completed the journey. As we raced passed cars people lured into our windows laughing and smiling at us. It was great, it was soothing It was powerful.

The start of my day through the vineyards. Saddled on horses through the dessert. A journey to my centre through a labyrinths soul. A club scene in my car through the tunnel mountain. Today was worthy of all sorts and dreams.

Just for Tomorrow

I'm sitting here, lonesome and unsure really of what to write. I have to as I have made myself a promise to work on this daily. Something short It would have to be as a have a "trip" to plan for tomorrow. I cant decide what kind of trip I should take? Labyrinth or up the coast. Why do 2 such wonderful decisions have to be so very difficult for me to make: That is an easy answer I am taking 2 people with me and like my mom says "you don't hunt in packs" My mom knows me well.

I just had my mom on the phone reading the entire NA Newsletter to me. The very news letter I read just an hour ago. Hearing it from her was sum how more amusing and less depressing. I had just been feeling very sorry for the certain anonymous people who submit their thoughts in to that very well made but honestly very desperate and very sad newsletter, I i can call it that, for it sounds much like quotes from all the recovery literature, slogans from all the fellowship meeting and really no individual flair at all! I respect that repetition of slogans, comfort of a fellowship, the constant need to reminice guilt and shame, climbing steps works for many people, I simply state It does not work for me. I go these meetings as it is whats expected of me, thankfully some of them are very funny and I stay close to those, realistically i will not stay close for life as I know in my heart I will find something that works for me!

Tomorrow I set out on a adventure of being free from rules, expectations and repetition. Tomorrow I explore roads and ways that carry me spiritually. Tomorrow I will drive up the coast...

Group with the geese in the drift wood

As I have mentioned I live in a tertiary, A treatment centre of "liquorish all sorts" they like to call it. Every morning at 10 am we have a community group. This consists of the house mates each with very individual personalities, some more colourful than others. Our commonality would be that of addiction. Some like myself  have some rather feisty spices added to addiction., ranging from Bi polar, aspergers,adhd, depression to schitsophrenic tendencies. Added with a bag full of behaviours or traits like , obsession, sexual perversion, insecurities, low self esteem, rebellion and and and... Then naturally driven by humour, compassion, caring, love , wit, life, quirkiness, passion, drive and and and. Leading ultimately into a certified nest of mayhem, the fun kind. A bunch of crazies, merely just people like others with hopes and dreams. A mix like this often creates a sense of belonging: with tears, driven by hope, there is honest fear. We live to live.

So, Imagine the lot of us going to a public restaurant to have our community group. For me this was a thrilling idea. At the drivers seat instantly with, 4 of us in my car , pumping Malli Vanilli: "Girl you know its true..... " Bopping around driving along side 2 counselors, just peering in, wishing they could be alongside us bopping to "ooh ooh ooh I love you" or not!

We Arrived at a place called driftwood, welcomed by rather pathetic looking geese, beautiful in their own quirky way, we muffled along to our wood carved table connected to benches. I of course naturally sit alongside a staff member and opposite a counselor so I can always have eye contact. We ordered our vanilla milkshakes that tasted like honey at 10am(breakfast) 

Someone asked what we would be doing for group and a glanced at the piece of paper taken out by the councilor, my eyes caught the emblem and I said , obnoxiously " if it as any NA, AA or CODA " emblem on it then .... I said it for effect of course. Our topic for group was introduced, a topic I know all to well CODA standing for co dependence anonymous. 

Well , picture a mix of mis match's "types",our ages ranging from 22 to 48with very obvious ways in a public restaurant. A very busy restaurant, having treatment focused community group, reading out loud the characteristics Of Co dependants. Slogans like "Inability to know what normal is", "Belief that others cause or are responsible for the co dependent's emotions." to "Being addicted to excitement / drama. (Chaos making.)" 

Some of my peers shied away as they read this, as the public looked curiously to try see what was going on. I however read it loud and got a rush from the attention that was drawn.

Seriously who would not want to know what was going on at a hustled together tables of "mi's fits" reading, or what may be seen as chanting. I would most certainly be drawn to this.

Its interesting how there was a sense of shame, even from the counselors, not wanting to draw attention yet these very people strife for that very thing. I found it humorous and I played it that way and soon we were all comfortable.

I am grateful to say I was a part of a world where strange looking geese bopped around as i would to malli vanilli, a world where nothing mattered except for the moment of something so unique, a uniqueness any normal person would dream of having just one moment like that.

I was in love with my therapist

When I wake up on time: the normal ritual of most, shower, get dressed, brush my teeth, have breakfast, feel fresh. It seems like any morning. I know its not just any morning when I do all of this before 7:30 am. When there is a certain excitement that only equals to one thing. This one thing is : today I see me therapist. 

Yes I am your typical case scenario of a patient who "falls in love" with your therapist. There are many theories associated with this "love"the most popular would be that of "transference" with me this "transference" started as an intrigue, wanting to know more about her, what she is like in real life, is she single, is she... it turned in to a crush of sorts. Thinking about her constantly, testing her by paying compliments, flirting, smiling, looking for any reaction at all. Still nothing so , i began to fantasize as a way of trying to connect. These were powerful fantasies. I briefly went through a phase that I would sexualize her. Eventually i professed my love for her in a timid way. It took time for my obsession with her faded some what and I began to idealise her. I always tried to get close in a way of romantic intrigue and soon realised it would go no where and I would get nothing, i decided to love her from a distance. To suppress my "transference" and 4 years later I know It was all just a typical case scenario.

I still get excited when I have an appointment , I sometimes still run my eyes across her body, paying close attention to what she is wearing and how it fits her body. Still get anxious for the first few minutes of our sessions. Still take a mental picture of her eyes and how her hair falls on her small but strong frame. When my eyes wander to her open chest  I stop myself before I have completely undressed her because that is not why I go there. This is just a bit of how my mind works: almost erotic.

Now I have become drawn to the process, i find that she is the only person I truly trust even thought i doubt at times. I speak freely and openly sometimes with difficulty. her mind interesting and I am drawn to the thought provoking words, even when few. I find I am more interested in listening to her now, I always have been but blurred it with m need to be close to her. I feel now my excitement to see her is not of desire to lust but to learn. I find i jabber and am making more of an effort to listen or learn. 

If only it did not take me almost 4 years to really want help, i know it was a necessary process.

I am still a little pissed that she told my counselor I am manipulative. I would prefer to hear it from her. A piece from our session today: I was asked what I want in terms of out of life or this process. I'm not sure if I understand, but surely this is simple? She suggested that unless One has no vision of what they truly want there will be no purpose, something to that effect.

I'm left with many thoughts, i leave you with this: this woman know what she is talking about! I

Just for yesterdays today

A pefect day of imperfection are the perfect ways of appretiating perfection. The concept of "nothing is perfect" appeals to me , as I find the less perfect things are the more fascinating they become!

Set match: Dietitian

Not only do I have the luxury of a psychiatrist, psychologist, and a few counselors for things ranging from Bi polar, addiction, borderline personality disorder, insecurity, low self esteem and general stubbornness I have now been introduced to a Dietitian. This is a good one to add to my list of helpers. Only they normally vanish over Christmas. Always back for the New Year.

Dictionary meaning of dietitian: an expert on diet and nutrition. The dietitian I had the privilege of meeting seemed to be an expert on the mental characteristics of the person in my brain. It seemed like she knew me, had me all figured out with in 20 minutes. I found this fascinating as of course one of my things is to test people to see if they are capable of giving me care or not. This rather attractive woman whom when approaching me I could not help but notice how perfectly proportioned her legs were, quickly putting my eyes on to her face as not to stir any sexual desire. It worked until this complete stranger got me almost instantly. We ended up in what seemed to be a tennis match of I know you know, I know you know, imp out, you? Her humor was on form, knowing exactly when to drop a line. Unfortunately I can’t recall any exact examples.

 

After an hour of fascinating logic, stirred with riddles of smugness, I felt high. Someone got me; I was told I know exactly what to do. I have heard that a lot lately. I know what to do, am I this brilliant that I know it all. No! I know it; I fall short of stupid when I don’t do what I know so well!

 Call it defeat, or call it learning. I call it a sexy dietitian who plays tennis with the mental process of an answer, her racket intelligence and a smile. No need to pay attention to her legs when her tennis ball is harder.  

6-1 4-3 6-1

 

K I S S

This early bird does not fly in a straight line. I have a liking for "different". I thrive on chaos and adventure, yet all I want is simplicity. Today i balanced flying skew with keeping it simple. Just me , my car, my camera, a box of cigarettes an open road and my foot on the pedal. I get off on high speed, i feel out of control, yet powerful. I love nothing more then a journey and visual stimulation. I had it all today.

A three hour drive through the vineyards, to the coast so enticing to my eye and calming for my heart. I arrived at a magical house belonging to my day, a stone throw away from the sea, never mind the beach. A dreamers dream, solitude of fantasy. My stepmother asked me almost immediately if I have been working. Keeping in mind I saw here merely a week ago. I was tempted to spit at her " yes, in the week since i saw you last, 3 days of which I was in a lock down facility as a form of punishment for breaking the rules and daring to sleep with a very attractive woman, not only did I find a job but also I miraculously started working at the job I found" What world does this woman live in? 

Perhaps I should be a little more lenient at her naivety. 

Today i sit thoughtful. Spending hours on a broad walk as all sorts of life walk by and become my world. I loose touch with reality as I watch three elderly people on deck chairs, sitting on the brown sand, feet touching the white of the waves. Children diving in to the sand, head first without a fear in the world. I once had that confidence and a fully dressed man, black skinny jeans, black shirt clinging to his open chest with a black top hat to match. Walking in stride as his red feather whistles in the wind. I found him fascinating. I sat I watched and I knew, we are all very different. 

Sand in my eyes, heart open to the gaze, gaze of someone Else's life I like to live in for a moment. The moment walks by and fall in to another.

Daytime rival

I am currently staying in as tertiary “institution” A institution that caters for drug/sex/alcohol/food addiction. It is not four white walls and no shoelaces, the opposite. I wake up to the sound of the ocean with a dream like view of a mountain so powerful it hums from a distance of 100 kilometers.

To day I woke as every morning a handful of drugs to mediate my Bi polar. Lugged myself up the staircase to make some coffee. As sat on the stairs outside, sucking at my cigarette staring at the yellow flowers, reflecting on my pervious week. A week of lust, love, passion, breaking rules, imprsoment and heart ache. That was last week, bringing myself in today.

 

Not only am I in a tertiary I am also attending a primary out patient program. No I do not understand why if I have already done 11 weeks primary I still drag myself to this out patient programmed. I swagger in there with a chip on my shoulder masking my irritation with humor. I believe I would not get through the hours if I did not do this. Analogies comparing relapse with taking on Mike Tyson. Relapse is something I live and breed to often. A relapse is when you stay clean for a while, use= relapse.

I cant count the number of times I have heard a counselor say after a relapse “ did you go out and do some research” followed by “ It’s like getting in to a ring with Mike Tyson and expecting to win knowing you going to get knocked out. Bam, you on the floor, you get up back in the ring expecting it to be different” Followed by “doing the same thing expecting different results.” I can’t help but see a comparison to primary school.

 

Meeting: A Narcotics anonymous meeting is a support group addicts go to. Not something I subscribe to very easily, as a firmly believe there are other ways of staying clean. Although it will be defended till the sun explodes, I believe meetings and the fellowship to be in close to a cult. No there is no leader; I see the idea as the leader. Yes it helps thousands of people stay clean and sober but no, it is not a cure and no it does not work for everybody.

I go to meetings because it is part of the house rules. I went to a meeting today because I had ulterior motives. I met up with someone I know, an attractive someone who has only been clean for 4 days. I went there with her to try and get the person I slept with a week ago to pay some sort of attention to me. I was dismissed; my plan backfired however there was an up side.

 

At these meetings, this “one-day at a time program” You receive key rings for what they refer to as your birthday. As far as I am concerned my birthday is my birth date. The idea of this method is in my opinion to say that when you stop using or drinking you are “reborn” Terminology I do not warm up to. One is never reborn but constantly working on self. You are born once and only once. For the rest of your life you are learning and living. What ever happens is an opportunity for growth. I am happy to live by that.

Back to the point today was my 90 days NA birthday. In this fellowship 90 days is considered as one of the momentous milestones. It is said that the first 90 days are the hardest and once you reach this milestone it gets easier. This is rubbish. In my experience this is an ill attempt at brainwash. No one can decide when things are easier or harder, this is a one-day at a time program that believes we are the same, and we are not! Yes we have the same characteristics when from our disease. I am not the same.

I find myself conforming to there ways as not to fall out. I do carry my own belief system and I will never give up on my dream of another way to stay clean. As a conformist just for today I was lucky to receive my key ring. Not only the clapping hands and the whistles from the circle were a feel good: Mostly today I enjoyed receiving my keying from a sexy Mother Id Like To Fuck. As I hugged her, my skin clung to the scent of her perfume, My eyes wandered to her bust of rising pheromones, that lingered in my hair as our bodies detached.

 

A meeting a day, keeps the sex drive at play…

Briefly denied

Denial is the constant motto, it gnaws at my every thought. My every movement carefully creeps around the irritation of "you are in denial" 

For those who do not understand: I am an addict who has been floating in and out of treatment centres, or rather "rehab" since 2003/4. As when going to school for the first time you hear a saying such as, " learn,listen" I was constantly told I need to listen or I will not learn. My first day at rehab was much of the same, "Denial" if you do not get out of your denial you will not live.

7 years later I am still tormented by that very word Denial, denial and oh my god if ever i have to hear denial is not a river in Egypt again... Its insulting to say the least. 

Alas not all is mourning. Today for example: at my current treatment center are required to have a goal setting group. I have recently broken the house rules. The one that clearly states no fraternizing with a member of the community. Fraternizing is sugar coated, De flavoured meaning for SEX. Which I will with out a doubt describe at a later stage. I was asked what my goals are for the following week and as I sat on the worn, tattered, off blue couch staring out of the window over the bay to the beach, i noticed there was a fashion shoot in progress, lots of people and loads of beautiful models. I said "my goal is to go over there, pointing at the hustle of the production, and see if there are any models that I know" , I chuckled and thought myself to be very funny. Specifically as I have been stamped with a behaviour pattern of going from one relationship to the next as not to feel and if I should not change this pattern it will be detrimental to my mental health! 

This is where i leave you at this moment with the little detail of I was "briefly denied" and that is the Denial I am facing now.