I can be forgiven

It might start the evening with beer or wine, but it was vodka that I poured for myself over and over. I kept it in the refrigerator so that I never needed to add ice, which just took up room in the glass that could be better occupied by vodka.

I drank for one simple reason: to numb the pain. It never worked. Not once. The alcohol would warm my blood and muddle my brain, but I was still miserable even drunk. I still loathed my self, my mediocrity, my looks, my job, my lying, my relationships. And I woke up every morning for years wanting to die. The first thought that would enter my head before I opened my eyes would be that I wished to be dead. I don’t know how many years it lasted, but it was easily decades. Some time in that last 10 years of my drinking, I grew aware that there was a sound underneath all my thoughts. It was a crying, a low heaving as happens when you gasp for air as you cry continuously. The sound was present always. My self-loathing grew exponentially, and my alcohol consumption grew, too. Nothing worked. The drinking was daily. I felt a hand reach into my head and begin to squeeze. I gripped the handrail to keep from falling. It felt like the hand of some God had decided that I no longer needed my brain and was trying to extract it. I can’t say that it was exactly painful. I believe it would be better described as immense pressure.
The shock was tremendous. I remember when I was diagnosed with bipolar, I felt betrayed by my brain. I’d had delusions in the intervening years, but now I knew that my brain wanted something completely foreign to what I’d ever imagined. It wanted out. I knew then that no amount of vodka would numb this… I was looking at the demon and I was sharing his cup, his shoes, his everything. Hang on before you suddenly say to yourself” more higher power shit “ nope , I have done that and while it did work for me many years ago with “coke” this was a whole new playing field… This was fu*king bipolar…. This is me tonight :
I can’t watch. I have it on, but it’s playing in the background.
I’m pacing. I can’t sit. I can’t listen. I can’t concentrate. It makes me want to cry.
When I sit in front of the TV, I can only stay there for a short time. It might be one or two minutes.
I’ve had my meds for today. I could ta
ke more clonazepam, but that would just make me sleepy.

I feel damaged.
What is there inside my brain that disallows me from simple pleasures? Why can’t I sit and watch TV? Why can’t I have vodka, hell, beer would do just fine … but inside I fight with myself… today , ( tomorrow is way to far to deal with) I have to deal with this as any other druggie… whatever!!
I am fu*cking mad.. Why me !! Boo Hoo!!! Ok I am coming back to normal, give me a sec….
I fell asleep , I must ask myself “ was it some form of Higher Power watching me ….

I couldn’t watch television, and I felt awful. But this isn’t about winning friends, so what did I do to make myself feel better?
I wish I could say I was perfect and turned around my thinking before I went to bed, but I can’t lie. I went to bed without brushing my teeth and feeling like crap. I’ve learned over the years that I can best judge my mental state by my level of self-care. When I don’t brush my teeth, something is seriously wrong.
But I did one thing right last night, I lifted my hands upward and gave thanks for my life and said that I believed I would wake up feeling totally new. Did I? Not exactly. went for my powerwalk around a beautiful park. I went to a noon A.A. Meeting. This in a way isn’t honest because I keep the 12 steps to myself.. no sponsor as of yet . When my brain was spinning out of control, I need to stop and pray for relief. When I am overly worried about some prob
lem, I need to stop and think about how much I can really control and what is simply out of my hands. I need to let go of this thinking .. It scares me …

Next Day:
I slept and guess what happened? Yep.. you are no dummy !! Depression!

I am not ashamed to say that I spent today in bed. I’m depressed.
I tried my little releasing ritual, but there was no magic bullet there. Still, if there’s one thing I’ve learned this disease, it is that this too shall pass. I will feel better. Who knows maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up right as rain.

I feel alone. I feel worthless. I feel ashamed of my selfishness concerning my kids, and this after years of telling myself I did the right thing … how could leaving not 1 but a few kids not leave a person with shame … if you don’t think so.. drop that crack pipe and think agai
n.. it is the hardest thing that I deal with

I’m tired. I’m sick of fighting. I’ve got layers of internalized self-loathing that are only beginning to surface.
I’ve stopped walking. I’ve stopped meditating. I say only the most rudimentary prayers.
Ugh. I can feel myself sliding into the pit, and I refuse to go easily. If I’m going to be depressed, then people are going to know about it…. And what I want people to know is I am a fighter … I will be heard !!! I can fight , I can listen, I can give, I can love , I can hurt , I can cry. I can forgive …
I can be forgiven

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One response to “I can be forgiven

  1. O that pit…spent many years there…might sound strange but i think at times in my fuck’d up head i didn’t know if i really wanted out or not. In another strange way my sick mind may have found some confused comfort there…idk…isn’t that kinda like staying in a relationship with someone you love but really don’t like…ya know…it’s familiar…something we know…even if we don’t like where we are or who we are with…at least we know what to expect there, right. Busy here building a pit cover…not sure what material to use…something strong, something powerful, something beautiful to take away the ugly…?..?..?…I know!!!…I’ll cover that fucking dark, ugly pit with ME. peace be

    Like

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