I silently stand as I watch the rest of the world float boastfully away. I've begun to realize that I want so much more than I have allowed myself to believe I can receive in this sad world of limitations I call my life. Of the few things I can honestly say I know, I've grown to understand that I am more than my fears and insecurities, more than the tiny 5' I stand up to, the wrinkles on my face, Alcoholics Anonymous and the medication that I take; more than the clothes I wear and the shoes I own. Surrounding these realities, lifestyle choices and possessions are nothing but limitations. I am imperfect in the most beautiful of ways and I do not want to be anything beyond happy. I've spent the past 3 years in the doors of AA feeling as if I just don't fit. I've done everything that's been asked of me; taken every suggestion that has been given me; gone above and beyond as a member of this program for the sake of my sobriety and sense of peace. Although, I have not been peaceful. Not at all. I spent a week on a cruise in the Mexican Riviera with my family. All 45 of them. Nothing terrible happened. Everyone seemed to get along quite well. There was tanning, and drinking, dancing, and more drinking, dressing up and dining out, eating, drinking, eating, drinking. There was one particular moment where my father dressed up as Elvis and sang Little Sister on Karaoke night. Dear God, the faux gold sunglasses with the attached sideburns made me rub my eyes in disbelief. Memories of him in that very same suit 12 years ago, he still hasn't grasped on to the importance of choosing the right colored underwear.
I don't know how to describe my dad's side of the family. Some would say they are "larger than life". I suppose it's accurate. Other words such as "grandiose", "intimidating", "loud", and "debaucherous" seem to level in importance. There were nights when they looked like they stepped right off the set of Dynasty. Others resembled J. Crew Models, kids and all. I sat there sober, in my flannel and ripped jeans and couldn't for the life of me, figure what part of my blood was theirs. I wanted to drink. I wanted heels that were six inches tall, I wanted botox and hair extensions, the proper skills to apply eye shadow and an understanding of how to use a curling iron. These were all things I lacked and am normally quite proud of lacking for that matter. But I was pervaded in self-doubt. I couldn't even smile for the 1,684 pictures I had to smile for. You know when your lips are curled in an awkward angle and your eyes are slanted sadly downwards, like happiness is a far reaching hole in the center of the world and your hands uselessly dig and find nothing but an endless supply of the very dirt that fills your thoughts and your chest; grainy and tasteless. That was my face for 7 days straight. I don't think I could ever truly enjoy a situation like that. 1 or 2 days would be just fine, 3 would be pushing it, four would be flat out uncomfortable and anything beyond that is just suicide. I love my family from a distance and I'm okay with that. The fact is, the misery that came with the trip was unbearable. I was depressed and insecure. I could give about 2 hours of myself at a time but would always have to spend another 2 hours in my room trying to recuperate. Truthfully, I think I could do better than that. AA is not working for me anymore. It hasn't for a long, long time, in spite of my best efforts. I'm just not sure I want to spend my life telling myself that I'm a selfish, self-centered alcoholic; that I'm sick and destined to be uncomfortable; that it's normal to want to crawl out of my skin all of the time; that I need to constantly be focused on what I am doing wrong if I want to feel peace. These do not seem like behaviours that will lead to happiness. At least not for me. Maybe for countless others, but not for me. I've decided to take another route. Prayer and meditation, regularly, every day. I've also decided to get my yoga certification. I need a lifestyle change, something that involves a more positive approach to life. I've been unhappy and scared for as long as I can remember and I'm tired of it. The black and white thinking, the belief that I either devote my life to AA or I will drink and die is not the kind of thinking I wish to indulge in any longer. I'm tired of blaming myself and Hunter for every unhappy thought I experience. It doesn't have to be this way. I want to embrace life, not dread it.
So that's where I am at. It's been a long time since I've checked in. I became blocked creatively and started to spend my time watching Breaking Bad and obsessing about ever feeling I had every moment that I had it. Sharing my obsession with Walter White and his gang of meth heads wasn't at all what I had planned for myself when I moved up here. I wouldn't even call it depression, just stagnancy; planted on our couch surrounded by air, words and thoughts that seemed to be planted with me. No movement, no yearning, just the shrill, static resonance of utter and complete, emotional dormancy. To hell with Netflix and every episode of Dexter, fuck speaking of which, there's a new episode available on megavideo. I wonder if I watch Dexter and than meditate, do they cancel each other out? Oh well, Dexter makes me happy and that's all there is to it. My goal is peace, not perfection. Not sure when I will write again, but Happy Holidays to everyone.
