Some memes

as if the demands of life will overwhelm me, is this a panic attack? probably not, but it is certainly a great way to dive into what i am feeling this morning. first off i want to say, that i was diagnosed in early recovery as having panic disorder and was told by the medical professional who was evaluating me, that if i had not self-medicated all those years, i would have ended up a prisoner in my home, far too anxious to step outside and face the world. whether or not this was an accurate diagnosis or not, really does not matter anymore, but before i get into anything else, i want to be sure that is say that i understand that panic disorder is a real condition and that those who suffer from it deserve my empathy and not my derision. that being said, i can move into what i “felt” this morning.
honestly i am seriously considering moving on from one of the three meetings that are the core of my program. i am quite tired of those on the margins, coming in dropping their shite than disappearing outside or into playing on their phones. they then will come in the next night whining about how this program is not working for them and thanking all of us for listening to their crap, but…
i get it. i played that whole “but” game for long enough, that i know what the rules are:

• whine about how terrible life is.
• scream about how angry you are about addiction
• drop a F-bomb laced share about no one except “you people” even begin to understand
• shut down anything that comes afterwards, because “you people” are actually clueless of what it is like to be me.
• do it night after night, so i can justify calling my dealer and getting loaded!

and BOOM just like that i have a resentment against all those F_CKERS in the rooms, a program that does not work and my life in general. is it any wonder i cannot stay clean?
life on the margins is tough, speaking as someone who lived on the margins of recovery for the first two after i walked into the rooms. people outside recovery certainly did not get me, and “those people” who had time certainly did not get me. living life in the miserable twilight between those two worlds would have been justification enough for me to use, and the only thing that kept me clean was the threat of getting a Department Of Corrections number for life. what it took for me, was the notion that maybe i did not know everything i needed to know about recovery after my first thirty days and maybe if i actually listened to “those people” i could find a life that was not quite so miserable.that small opening has led to more than just a handful of days clean. it has led to a life where i am no longer fearful and anxious every time i walk out my front door or make plans for my future. in short it no longer sucks to be me, most days. those days that i feel it sucks to be me? well, i can stop, pause and take an inventory of my my expectations. in that inventory, i usually discover that i have one or more unrealistic expectations of myself, my life and my world that need to be demolished, exploded and carted away. when i see my part in manufacturing my own misery, as ludicrous and ironic as it is, i can actually move beyond that and find a path to acceptance.
inb closing, to those who are fatally cool and terminally unique, shut the FVCK up, get with a sponsor and actually do something than wallow in your own self-pity, you are not the FVCKING center of life as we know it and it is time to get over your bad self and join the party, it is actually better in the light of recovery than in the twilit world between. you are not any better than the rest of us. so grow a pair and join us.

∞ DT ∞