It's been a while since I've done this post...or with the holiday, it feels like it's been a while.
I thought I'd do something a little different. Previously, I'd posted composites or amalgamations of my writings about my life in AA. I'd take different entries that I'd written in my journals or AA assignments and tried to edit them somewhat for public consumption. This time, though, I'm giving you, verbatim, my journal entry from this morning. It may or may not make sense: I try to start writing, get out of my way, and let the writing take me wherever it needs to.
How to start. "Dear Believer"? "Hey God. It's me. Writer."? I don't know how to talk, to pray, to write, to meditate. I feel like I have to address someone. But I cringe at that. Like I said, I sound hokey. And that is my own judgment. I'm amazed at how judgmental I am. To the degree that I can or someone else can say I have "good taste" that is fine, but past that it's debilitating. I can't speak. I can't write. I can't be. Knocking over and spilling coffee becomes a catastrophe, when it actually allowed L. to get fresh coffee. I feared judgment - "Op. Writer's getting out of hand. You spaz." But that is my judgment projected and reflected back at me. Everyone left cause it was 10:30. Not out of embarrassment. I wasn't being abandoned, but that part of me that needs outside approval - a huge, fucking child, still in diapers and sucking its thumb - sees it, saw it that way. I know this. I write it down. Is that enough?
Threads. Pick one up. Follow it.
In writing things down, I hope I accept it. I give airy thought concrete form. Instead of a myriad ways of expressing a thing, I give it one chain of words. But then there's still other lines of attack, so I write it again and again. Each new expression is, I hope, another facet of acceptance. Alcohol is not the only thing I'm powerless over. There are certain - for the lack of a better phrase - thought-patterns that led to my HIV then on to my alcoholism and to here. And by these pages I seek to make within myself the space, the spirit, the approval, the love that AA and my new family make outside myself. I have to get out of my way. To listen. And to write down what I hear. Threads. I follow the thread. To the end. I write it down. This is my prayer. I believe in a god. It is the universe. It is all around me, and I am a part of it. I am it. We all our [sic]. With self-will, I am trying to remove myself from that embrace. Alcoholism, addiction is the pain of trying to create that loneliness [isolation]. Ripping, rending, tearing. Tearing a muscle. Breaking a bone. But as with a muscle or a bone, it is still within, encased, embraced. Removal is not actually possible. Pain is just another state of being. Growth. Loneliness is not actually possible. Self-will is. But it seems to be more a misdirection, a misunderstanding. Like S. last night, we fight against the things we come to enjoy. We think we need more. Like Amelie, we dip our hands into baskets of beans. We take pleasure in simple things. We contemplate simple things. We make small snowmen and try to not ache too much at their loss when they melt.
We do not see. We think we are alone.
There was something I went to sleep with. There was the spilled coffee and then some thought involving J. I can't remember what it was now, but it seemed important and upsetting at the time. Did it solve itself in my sleep? I don't remember any dreams. It now seems silly to worry about being away from J. - that separation will make the heart grow forgetful - when everytime after we've been apart, when we meet again, it becomes clear how much more we want each other. On my part, I know this is true. And I cannot change J., so I accept that there is a degree of not knowing, and I accept the surprise and joy of relearning. I think he feels the same, and I see the same surprise and joy when suddenly we fall into each other again. Acceptance seems so frightening. Like C. said, it is simply not easy.
Dear God. Dear Believer. Dear Universe. Dear HP. Dear AA family. Please help me not drink today. I've already lost enough days, enough moments of joy and pain. Even pain is mine - without it I do not know joy - it marks the end, that what came before was important or it tells me that I'm growing, that I'm hungry, that something is missing, that I need to reconnect to you - whatever, whoever you are. Pain tells me that I'm seeking outside myself for something that surely, if I look, I can find within. And surely I should only need to find within. It is difficult. It sounds lonely. Self-contained. But is it? I have my meetings, my AA family, my new friends, my old friend, my bio. family - some of them. [I hope soon to have J.] I am surrounded by people. All I have to do is pick up the phone. AA isn't the only thing that works via attraction rather than promotion.
I'm not expecting this to make any sort of narrative or linear sense. Basically now that I've gone long enough without drinking all the bullshit that lead me to sexual addiction, HIV and then alcoholism is now perking its pointy ears up...especially now that I have someone that I want and whom I think wants me back. But even without new sobriety, a new relationship is scary...it's why the suggestion is to not begin a relationship until at least a year after you join recovery. But what I believe in appears to have thrown him in my path and we connect on so many levels, and I hope that continues.
Thank you for reading.