Welcome to my happily ever after...
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the proof is in the pudding
I have meetings all day long and I'm dreading them. We have weekly meetings on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and sometimes I think we have them just for the sake of having a meeting. I don't get it.
I am 30 days sober today. When I go to my meeting tomorrow, I get to get my 30 day chip. I really haven't had too hard a time thus far, but then again I can't imagine what it would have been like trying to quit if I was still in that condo (AKA The House of Horrors....or would that be The House of Whores?). Anywho, it's amazing that moving home with my folks and having an almost complete lack of freedom has done to keep me both honest and sober. I thanked God this morning for giving me the clarity on the 4th of July to call my mom and dad and tell them that I was coming home.
I've done 30 days before. In fact, I was at 42 days sober when my BF broke up with me back in April and I dealt with it by being fugged up for like 75 days afterwards. So I know I'm not even IN the woods yet....I'm still lacing up my hiking boots in fact.
Speaking of, one thing I'm working on this week are all these horrible memories that are flooding back.....things I've done to people that I didn't think too much of at the time. One memory that came back was that a couple of months ago, I met this guy on manhunt.net that was staying at the Hilton downtown, and I agreed to go to his hotel room and party with him. Well, I was up for like the 5th day in a row, and pretty much right after I got there, I passed out cold asleep. When I woke up 36 hours later, he had left me a note saying he had to leave to go to a meeting and to stay in the room as long as I wanted....and to order some room service on him because I was way too thin. I was so horrified that I got up and left without even leaving a note thanking him. Since then, I have tried to look for his profile to thank him for putting up with me, but I can't find it. I am still mortified by my actions all this time later.
I read something that I am going to try: I am taking those memories of things like that, writing them down on a slip of paper, and putting them in a "worry" box. I assume that writing it down and putting it in the box, it's symbolic of letting the memory go. LOL....I'll see how it works.
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I just got back from my meeting and found out that my job is going to be reclassified as non-exempt, meaning that if I'm out for a dr's appt or such, I don't get paid for that time. I do however make overtime if I stay late, however that isn't going to happen. I'm not amused, but what are ya gonna do? Me thinks it's time to start looking for something else, in particular something that isn't so far out of the way.
I miss Lucas, my ex. There, I said it. Last night I was talking to Carlos (we're trying to be friendly), and he said that he and Mario were going to watch that TV show Revelations on DVD that was on TV back in April, and it made me think of Lucas immediately. He and I lay on the couch together watching it every week, and it opened up the proverbial trunk of emotions that I don't open very often. Pandora's Box. Part of getting sober though is taking out all those old outfits out of the trunk, looking at them and remembering the good and bad times I had while wearing said outfits, then taking them and giving them away to Goodwill.
The odd part is that Lucas really didn't treat me well at all. He was great at first, but that did not last long. There toward the end I was walking on eggshells all the time to keep his temper from flaring up. I know that I am looking back on our relationship just like many events when I was using....an addict's mind looks back and thinks "that was really great" when it really was far, far from it. Our relationship was based on drugs and sex (with other people!), and it was bound to fail.
It was bound to fail. It was fucked up from day one. He was not a catch by any stretch, and I am too nice and smart a person to let someone treat me like he did. And if the way he treated me while we were dating was not enough, the way he treated me after we broke up should be proof alone.
The proof is in the pudding, and his pudding was made with sour milk.
1:04 p.m. - 2005-08-02
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