Viva Las Vegas

las-vegas

Today was a good day… the work week ended as per usual…. Me feeling like I did an okay job for the majority of the week and with an end in sight (January 2014), each week gets easier. Emotional detachment does have its benefits. However… it also has its detriments. A few weeks ago my Doctor decided to scale my bipolar meds way back… and when I say way back… basically to almost nothing.

Goodbye Prozac, Goodbye Wellbutrin and Goodbye to ¾ of my dose of Depakote.

Needless to say, the past few weeks have been an adventure. Some elements I’ve handled well, other elements not so much. I’ve managed to do okay but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been difficult. I forgot what it was like to have a roller coaster of emotions and feelings and joy and rage and just an uncontrollable feeling of unrest that goes from being in my mind to externally not being able to slow down. My bipolar runs from hot to scalding so there is no ‘down’. I use to love this – love the sleeplessness nights and the raw feeling of every emotion that my mind, heart and soul experience in the course of a day. Now.. well now this just fucking sucks. The chaos that was always my drug of choice has become as uncomfortable to me now as the rush of dopamine was my euphoric elixir years ago.

Scattered thoughts, sleepless nights and the amount of self-control and energy it takes to not just go with the flow are exhausting. Exhausted Insomnia… talk about a fucked up state.

I know I have all of the tools to keep myself straight… but that doesn’t mean that temptation has been removed from my life. Tonight I almost let my guard down… tonight I almost gave in to the trickster… not to drink but to revert to behaviors that makes my bipolar do a happy dance. Some would say that I was being ‘tested’ but I am not Job. I did however, have a glimpse of divine intervention.

It All Started With Ben Affleck

Kicked back in the most amazing movie theater seats I’ve ever seen, my sister and I enjoyed utter relaxation after a long week for us both. We went to see Runner Runner. Not a great movie, not a terrible movie but Ben was trying to relive some Boiler Room moments and his monologues didn’t have quite the same punch. All in all a great way to enjoy a Friday night, my last night in Sin City. Amidst my relaxed and calm state, I forgot about HALT. Hungry, Angry, Lonely , Tired… 4 things that occur in all of lives, usually without consequence. For those of us that are the alcoholic variety – HALT can put a serious cement wall waiting for you to collide right in front of your face.

As we headed home, my sister gets an invite to head out… some anniversary party at a club. She asks me if I want to go and before really thinking about it, I ask for 25 minutes to get ready. While in the midst of figuring out what dress will match my rather loud orange spiked heels… I had a pause. Ever have one of those? That brief moment where for one split second, you are almost standing outside of yourself.

In this brief moment, I realized that the heels I brought didn’t match any of the dresses I brought. Go figure, I thought orange spiked heels would go with everything! The dress I chose made the ensemble close enough to pass but not close enough to go together. Divine Irony. That’s what I like to call it. Truly God doing for me what I could not do for myself. It wasn’t that the combination of the dress and heels would have made the doorman go ‘what the fuck you cannot enter the club in that monstrosity’ but the pause as I looked at the outfit was what made me think. Fuck. This isn’t me anymore. I don’t get ready to go out at 11:45pm on a Friday night. I don’t hang at the club till 3am making small talk with people I could care less about. Who am I going to meet or what conversation am I going to have that would greatly impact my life at a club in Vegas on a Friday night? Don’t worry… I’ll wait while you come up with an answer.

The truth is… I have no business in a club in Vegas on a Friday night. None.

The Big Book tells me that there are times in my life when I will have to be around alcohol. The key word is ‘have to’, but the Big Book also tells me that if I am not vigilant – I’ll create any reason to ‘have’ to be around booze. So how did the evening end? I told my baby sister that she looks gorgeous (which she does) I tell her to have fun, to be safe and to call or text if she needs me for anything. Then I packed up the dress and the heels that didn’t quite go… I put on some raggedy yoga pants and a t-shirt – pulled my hair up into a ponytail and took off my makeup. I took my Big Book out of my purse… read a few highlighted passages… I sat down and thanked God for doing for me what I could not do for myself… and I am about to kick back and watch American Horror Story Season Two Episode Two and chill with Sammy the Cat.

The bottom line.. I’m blessed… blessed to have those around me who understand, blessed for the pause, blessed for having a Higher Power and blessed for Mom’s Amazon account. You see it’s the little things… there’s no cure… there’s nothing larger than a daily reprieve. The minutes become hours.. the hours become days and the days become years… but every milestone in sobriety starts one minute at a time.

I said for the longest time that I didn’t have another run in me. That’s a lie. I do have another run in me… what I don’t have in me is another recovery.

My recovery is not dependent on people; it is dependent on my relationship with God.

Filed under: alcoholism, women in recovery Tagged: Ben Affleck, recovery, women in recovery
Source: Woman In Recovery

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