Niggling Self Doubt: When AA is your little voice

I was at Karaoke last night and I was drinking. Now me being the person I am, completely denies I have a problem with alcohol. And normally I don't feel any guilt. I go out once a week and I drink which isn't really a bad thing no matter how you look at it.

What bother's me about last night is that when the bar ran out of what I normally drink (Cider) I went for something I never drink (Tequila Sunrise). I drank two. Ask me if I felt it this morning. The answer is not really. 

What made me choose that drink? I hate tequila. Why did I drink two? Is it because I feel safe at karaoke surrounded by good friends? Is it because I was upset? I know how fast that shite works on me and yet I bull dozed my way through the china shop anyway. I didn't think.

Now me being technically a rehab failure already I have to wonder one if I ever had a problem with alcohol or am I starting to have a problem right now? Do I need to go back to AA over my choice of poison? I don't know. The shrink who helped me through my mental melt down last year suggested rehab because of the amount of intensive therapy it would offer. He said I could get better there and learn some thing about myself. It worked. Probably a little too well. By the time I left I couldn't even pass through the cold remedy isle when I got sick. All the time wondering if I ever had a moment in my life when I NEEDED booze to get through my day. Seriously no, never had that moment in my life.

Somewhere in the AA Big Book there is a part where they talk about telling someone everything they need to know and then leaving them to decide for themselves. That is the worst. It's like teaching someone how to use a gun and then telling them only in an dire emergencies can you fire this weapon. How dire does the emergency have to be?

I woke up this morning with a little cotton mouth and a tingly jaw. I didn't fall on anything so it must be residual booze still in my system. I'm not suffering, no pressing need to praise the porcelain deity in my bathroom or any unexplainable stickiness in my undies. I'm pretty good actually, miraculously good.

Knowing that Karaoke night is my one night out each week did I switch to tequila because I wanted that good buzz, or was that really the first thing on my mind? I could have choose something else. Normally I do. Now that I think about it, last week I had two shots of whiskey. I hate whiskey too.

I just have that niggling feeling of self-doubt. 

Do I have a problem? 

How your room looks like your life

I watched my first complete episode of Doctor Who today. Frankly I'm only glad I now know what the fuck TARDIS is. I can't see what all the fuss is about. Surely this can't be it.

So what brought me to this moment in wee hour musing, my room. Well My life I should say. I am not a happy camper. I'm in that helpless funk I always seem to find myself in. Once again I'm wanting to throw in the towel and I don't know if that is the right decision. So what did I do? Well I sat down to multiple episodes of Mad Men and then One episode of Doctor Who. Escape much? That would be me.


I'd like to be a person of action. I'd like to say that I can fix this. I love to say that I will think my way out of this latest predicament, but I can't. You know what "Can't" is? Can't is the action word for Doubt.


Roll with this: I heard a story sometime this year, from a movie, a television show, a news article, a blog or a book I read about the Devil's greatest weapon. I'm not particularly religious but once in a while I hear something that makes sense.  If I remember correctly a man wanted a fail proof weapon against his enemy. Just when the man began searching for a means to destroy his nemesis another man approached him.


This new man seemed all knowing and powerful so the guy puts his problem to his ear. The worldly man displays an arsenal of things meant to wring the utmost satisfaction out of besting rival large or small. He offered them for sale. The man clapped with glee but was still not convince that what he wanted was there.


The worldly man slowly began to put away his weapons. The "buyer" noticed that there was one item he was never shown. So he asked about it. The strange worldly man told him, that this particular weapon was too powerful. It was so damaging that only a few people were strong enough to wield it. The price of it not much but the true sacrifice came after it's been used. Even the person using this weapon could fall prey to it.


The man thought about the pleasure he'd get from seeing his rival fall. If the price was low, he could make such a sacrifice. But what kind of sacrifice? What would he have to do? How long would he have to pay for something he'd already bought? Was this unknown sacrifice worth the trouble?


The Worldly man put the item in his jacket pocket. He patted it over his chest before continuing to pack up his things. With a smile he thanked the man for his time and apologized sincerely for not making a sale. The man watch the stranger walk away.


He never vanquished his enemy. After the visit with the strange man he wondered if he was ever strong enough to do it. He feared the consequences of taking him out. As his business fell into decline and he faced ruin he often thought about the man and what he carried in his breast pocket. He asked around the town if anyone else met the man. They never saw him, after a while people thought he was crazy. Soon after he lost everything he began to believe it himself. He never lived up to his full potential.


The strange man in this story was an agent of the Devil and of course I roll my eyes at giving the man a name or a title. But there is meaning there. Doubt cost nothing. It's a tiny seed that need very little attention and grows all by itself in the minds of everyone.


Doubt causes fear, hesitation, reluctance, a lack of faith in yourself, in others, in God or your higher power, jealousy, envy. Doubt can make a strong man falter. It can make, a happy woman angry. Doubt can take away security. Doubt can hold a person trapped in a job they don't want.


Doubt makes you, me, especially me, stop reaching for that next step. And I admit I am crippled by it. I feel  doubt all the time. I feel it now and instead of sleeping right now I'm awake doubting what will happen later today. Doubt has me wondering why finish the book, will I be able to attend school this fall, will I ever meet someone who finds me worthy, will I be homeless, doubt cripples me everyday.


I look around my messy room and wonder how this happened? Simple I stopped believing I could do anything. I stopped functioning as I was intended. I'm weak and incompetent. Doubt is the greatest weapon ever invented. When I see the papers strew across the floor I don't see that they are in an organized pile by subject. I see a mess that looks like it will take ages to sort through. Even if they are already sorted I feel overwhelmed at the thought of putting it away.

I wonder how to combat this thing called doubt. I wish I had he answer. I'm happy that I managed to come to grips with the fact that it's just a room. The mess isn't that bad and the papers are organized. The stuff on the floor isn't junk, it's dog toys for Chewy and picking an outfit is something I take a little pleassure in, even after I've tried on everything in my closet.




I will because it's five am, lay my head down and try to organize what I can take care of quickly. then I'll worry about the other stuff when it stops being other stuff. It's not healthy to have the kind of doubt I have. My world will not come crashing down around me. I'll just treat my life like my room and clean.

The Rebound Guy

My Blog Buddy Woody (If we ever meet in person, that town better watch out) wrote about breaking up a few days ago.  I'm guessing by what she wrote and what a few other women I know love and/or respect have said there is no practical use for the Rebound Guy. I disagree.

I had a Rebound Guy once. He was awesome (if there was a word I could possibly overuse). I met him at some large gathering of friends.  I'm pretty sure it was a Pub Crawl. Over the course of the evening someone asked me how I was handling my recent break up. 

Surrounded by a lot of mine and my ex's mutual friends, I bolstered my courage and said, "It fucking sucks I need a Rebound Guy." Those who were listening replied with cheers, toasting, and I think one even slapped me on the back.  All I really wanted was to get my potato wedges, it was a restaurant after all. Crawl back home and sleep. But I stayed.


As most pub crawls go they only get bigger as the night wears on. "J" my new friend, like any good predator sought me out attempted to reel me in. This chick has game though, he pretty much fell for what ever line I threw him, then kindly drove me all the way back to my house. No kiss, no hug, no nookie. Some where during the course if the Pub Crawl though I behaved really bad, was asked to put my boots back on by a bouncer, but other than that, and throwing my phone number out, I pretty much was a good girl.


"J" called me the next day.

He told me that he wouldn't mind being my rebound guy. He said he kind of gets that a lot with chicks. I kind of felt bad for him, but I realized the sight of runny mascara must turn him on. Who does that? Seriously, who dates chicks on the rebound? "May I introduce "J" the professional Rebound Guy.


You know if I wasn't so emotionally involved in my last relationship I think me and him would have had something to build on. Then again this guy likes emotionally uninvolved. Also he was a government contractor that traveled a lot so this is probably all he's got time for.


Anyway with that out of the way, we hit it off pretty well. After a month his job in Boston was over and I was back to my old self again. When he left I was like thanks, then to make it more awkward he said thanks too. He left on good terms, I was back to bad ass status and not feeling all down about myself.


Maybe I'm a bit off to think that getting a Rebound Guy is a good idea. I think you have to be clear headed about the situation. I do agree that whoring yourself out at the bar/club may be a very bad, and dangerous thing to do. But what if you are just used to having some one around? What if you seem to be stuck at those shindigs that are always you+1?  You can't go by yourself, that's lame. (Clearly I've evolved since this statement)


When you brake up with someone, you loose that hanging partner to all the cool events that couple go to. The invites start drying up and you're stuck on a Friday night drinking with your single friends who all hate being single. I wasn't ready to go back to that when my actual boyfriend left me. I needed a buffer. And "J" stepped right in.


I've had a few more break ups since that. I've handled each on of them differently. Of course each break up was different. One was a compulsive liar and cheat. One thanks to orders PCS'd to some other country. Another, through a mutual emerging dislike, just stopped calling and trust me when I say I was okay with that. No need for a Rebound Guy there. The one I actually waited to be physical with, turned out to be physically incompatible, that was awkward. 


The one that PCS'd to a different country would have required a Rebound Guy if I were in port as scheduled to see said ex off on his flight. But alas  my ship was tasked and we never got to say good bye. I had to get over that one all by myself. For him I totally would have found a Rebound Guy. If the stars and operational tasking aligned, I think would have been fine.


The point I'm trying to make is that you don't need a Rebound Guy to boost your confidence or your self esteem. You need a Rebound Guy because he's got no ties to you, your ex, your friends or anything else going on in your life. He fills that space your ex left, heaven forbid you guys had any shared plans. Plus Rebound Guy gradually sets you down as opposed to being abruptly dumped. As long as yous twos are clear on these facts it should be a pleasant experience.

One thing is golden here though: THE REBOUND GUY IS TEMPORARY. You don't date these folks indefinitely. When you've moved on from your ex, you move on from the Rebound Guy too. Don't be like this chick:

That shit ain't real, it never happens. When Hollywood starts talking about love again, there is always some poor woman that actually believes this. I believed E.T. was real until I rode the ride at Universal Studios too. Take the time after you've moved on and do your closet cleaning, revamp your wardrobe, change your hair color, take up yoga or what ever it is you do after the scab falls off. The point of this is to come out better than when you went in.




I'm off my soap box.

It puts the lotion in it's skin...

I like moral support. Moral support is freaking great, I especially do when I get to the be the one granting it. Makes me feel super needed and loved.


What this is, is really a type of co dependence. I need to feel something external validates my own personal worth. Sad isn't it. It's part and parcel with my many issues, it goes past my alcoholism, passed a lot of things I'm not willing to share. The fact is I know that I can get a little codependent and I wonder sometimes if I've gone too far.


To me I feel like I can be this great giving person. If not money or food or my couch or some thing tangible I have to  be that person who is always there. It's my substitute for booze. By immersing myself into someone else's life I can for a short time forget about mine.


I can forget that I want to be a writer and I haven't written anything. I can forget that I don't have money to pay my phone bill this month because I spent the money on unnecessary things like shoes or t-shirts. I can forget, and I can look like a freaking super hero in the process.


I totally soak it up. like lotion on dry skin.


There's a group for people like me. CA. Since I'm already in AA I think I'm covered for all the alkie things I'm inclined to do. The fellowship there is something people like me needs. Otherwise I'd be out of control.


Sadly I'm blogging here with out a fully formed though. Once in a while I have to do this in order to clear my head. Call it a way to vent a little frustration.


I'm still working the phones so I might come back and contribute something else. Otherwise I'll be on again later and hopefully I'll blog something and no one will die like in "No Place for Old Men" rest in peace Davy Jones.


And here's a random picture because I just like opening myself up for bad press.

Political Science: The Drop. Sad Face...

Well guys I'm going to have to admit defeat on this here. I clearly was not ready to take on the extra pressure of taking Political Science. I really want to say because it was hard, but that's not the reason.


Let's be honest folks I hate leaving my home. I hate leaving my home so much that I haven't been back to the VA to pick up the meds I so desperately need to be on.  I hate leaving my home so much that I haven't been t Volleyball, even though I love to play it. Nor have I been out since I went to the concert two weeks ago. I just outright hate it. Walking Chewy is my only willing break.


If I was lazy about Poly Sci I would not feel so bad. If I had money to burn I would not feel bad. If I already had my degree I would definitely not feel bad. But none of those thing are a factor. Fear and the sense of being over whelmed have gotten the best of me.


So the new plan is: Get more proficient at this hustle. Manage my time a lot better. Train the dog. Reestablish contact with the VA so I can get back on my meds. Begin to be a functional human being again. 


I admit that I'm not playing with a full deck. I realized this about a month ago and continued to put it off. It's kind of part of my sickness: to pretend that I'm okay. Really I'm not okay. And truth be told I haven't been able to write anything good since the meds wore off.


I've said it before. It sucks to know that I'll be on medicine for the rest of my life just to function. I should be okay with this since I have been taking medication for Migraines since I was 8. My pride has been injured most because it's not just Migraine medication anymore, and it's not just pills. It's AA, it's therapy, it's everything I abhor just because I can't be left alone. And the less I take care of these things, the further away from my goals I move.


Political Science was a fun and engaging class. My teacher clearly had enthusiasm for his topics every day. I wanted to be there. I wanted to write the papers if only to better my language skills. I just seemed to stay right on the outside of ready for this kind of pressure. Before I freak out and call this a failure, get all emotional and start thinking negative, I need to step back and examine why.


I've done that to the best of my abilities and I came to the conclusion that I can't in all fairness do right by myself with this class unless I handle the immediate needs first. Improve my financial situation, get back on my medications, train the dog because the alternative is killing the little guy and establish a better routine so my plan of attack isn't rushed unorganized and holy.

I think I should make this a list. 

Testing my mettle

I desired to meet people yesterday so bad that I invited myself to a charity event. Sadly it was at a bar, but I went and had two Sprites.

Funny thing I'd been thinking this same scenario in my mind for as long as I've been living here in San Diego. Of course the AA-ers would think this is a bad idea. But for some reason I kept thinking I could and would do this.

So I gathered a bag of item's I'll never wear again and trotted my happy sober self on to the Foundry. It's some where on University, tiny place and fairly decent food.

Here I am surrounded by the sights and smells and sounds associated with social inebriation. I introduced myself to one of the organizers then promptly make an attempt to get my Sprite. No go, fine, plan B. have a smoke outside.

Call me crazy, but I kept picturing in my head me standing outside a bar with a bunch of drunk smokers. And I wanted to experience this. Am I relapsing? The relapse always happens in your mind long before the first drink, so is this it? I don't know.

But outside the bar I'm talking to people both sober and not so sober and I'm having a great time. About an hour after arriving I'm actually comfortable being around the booze. Granted it helps that this place markets itself as a trendy beer and pizza place, since I'm a liquor and wine girl the temptation isn't blatantly displayed. I even broached that I'm a recovering alcoholic, this being San Diego fully of super friendly people, I was actually well received.

I felt totally empowered in my sobriety to think that I can survive the social scene and not be awkward about my "handicap" with alcohol.  The only dark lining around this bright cloud is the fact that I will not always have the will power to resist. Not every day can I make the right decision to not drink. My celebration only reinforces my need stay in the program for the rest of my life. (I sound like some brainwashed freak I know)

That and the fact that with out booze I'm still an interesting person. I even managed to find another writer in all this. I hope to get together and do the whole writer thing, I'm really excited.

I'm going to go all Ka-Bar (Katie a good friend) and say that Friday night was a WIN. FACT!!!

Just call me Oblivious

I like to lament on how much I can't find a date. I do this facetiously because I'm not really looking. Prime example: I'm walking through the courtyard at school headphones in and bopping to the beat of Gym Class Heroes. And did I notice the guys trying to get my attention? Yes. Did I stop or even smile at them? No. Know why? Well I do and it's simply because I'm uber self conscious  of myself. I'll think of every possible flaw and triple its importance just to avoid actually meeting someone. So like the coward I am I pretended not to see them.

Honestly I didn't see them until one dam near stepped out in front of me. And you know what I did? I swerved like every good Bostonian, head down as if making eye contact would insight violence. Captain Oblivious strikes again. How ever since I've been places where politeness is the norm, I did say excuse me. Head was still down though.

It occurred to me after I was sitting at the bus stop about three minutes later that I might have just missed an opportunity to meet someone new. I'll just put on this FAIL sticker. I have to remember two things here: 1 I'm supposed to be making an effort here. Remember the List? 2 I am new in town with no friends, just the dog.

By the way Chewy is doing awesome. Found food he'll eat, his eyes are clearing up, and I got some poopy pads so he can stop peeing all over my bathmat.

What's really going on here? Am I really that much of a coward? Well today I was, and I remember other occasions where I've done this. Do I feel like I'm not ready or do I just like being alone. I'm not waving the Team Single flag like I'm about to blast off at the speed of light. (Surrender now or prepare to fight...) Nor am I singing Independent at the top of my lungs.

What I really am is overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with the book, work on the phones, school, Chewy, the VA, AA and pretty much everything else that I need to tackle right away. They all demand my attention. And as lame an excuse as it is, I just don't think adding a guy to the list is going to help.

Lets face it, guys want to feel special, whether they want to admit it or not, they want some tiny level of devotion from every female they encounter. They don't even have to want to sleep with you, that's just how they are. If a guy even a causal guy feels like you're not paying him attention, he'll do one of four things: Talk to you to understand what's going on (best choice), Move one (not really a bad thing if you don't have time), Seek attention elsewhere (bad if you're in an intimate/romantic relationship), or Stick around and forcefully take your time away from something else (psycho bad).

I can talk all day about the whys and why nots about dating, but the real deal is simply this.
Balance and fear, if you can't balance you're life, you won't make it. If you're afraid of dating, you'll just not date.

Like riding a bike

When I was skinny I rode a bike everywhere. There is a bike path along the South West Corridor that leads you pretty much all the way to City Hall. I have rode that path hundreds of times.

After boot camp I got stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. I was not so skinny by then and purchased a bike to keep the weight down. There wasn't something as scenic as the South West Corridor but it was still a nice ride. I even had a bell for it.

When I moved over seas I took my bike with me, intending to keep to my pedaling ways. It's Japan, everyone rides a bike. Did I? No. As my bike came out of it's shipping container, I realized that I lived too far to commute to work. That and I was terrified that I'd bike on the wrong side of the road and get hurt.

Which leads me to the current day where I am once again on a bike happily commuting to and from the daily Musters during my final check out. The only problem, aside from not having working breaks this afternoon, my fat ass. Seriously my badunka-dunk needs it's own zip code.

No make over is complete without some overhaul on the diet. This means no more Chocolate covered cashews. I'm allergic to the caffeine anyway. And lay off the soda.

I know exactly what needs to be done to get my body in shape, smaller meals, regular meal schedules, exercise, and vitamins. Since I don't drink anymore this should be easy.  And of course you guessed it, it's not.

Living Sober, a guide to sobriety says that you're body will demand some kind of supplemental satisfaction. The fat kid in me says YAY! SWEETS! Sweet! The book practically gives you permission to continue treating your body like ass. Lets rejoice in junk food!

Then later that night when I curl up with my lap top and full bag of Fun Sized Snickers. I won't think about the slow climb through the rolling hills of Bremerton Washington. I definitely won't be thinking about my heavy breathing eating that candy. Or that fact that I have to go up a size on jeans.

The next day when I am dying from over exertion on the aforementioned hill I know I WILL be thinking about that bag of Snickers. I have to wonder what possessed me to even buy them? The answer eludes me.

But I shall get up this hill, if only to just get up the dang hill. Maybe I should put a stack of free money in a box at the top. Or I should get something shiny and leave it there. It would be like Roller Derby in this beast yo.

What ever my motivation or your motivation it better continue. Remaking oneself is supposed to be permanent. What would be the point of all this work?

Speaking of work: Sandy-Jade over on wattpad designed this cover for The New God. I love it. What do you think?

 Actually I want to change a few things but other than that it's awesome. I think I want to change the tube to a tank.   Okay maybe I don't love it. But Sandy-Jade captured her face perfect. Now that Celine has a face I think a lot will come together for her as a character, or a real person. The original that she started with had some head gear to it.

I had some other one she sent me that struck my fancy. Below I'll post them as well.

Personally I'm just glad to have another reason to finish this book. My new life DOES depend on it.


If I had to have a back up cover it's be this one to my left. It expresses how Celine hides her true self and how the magic with-in her really is the one in control.

I do however like the simplicity of the one on the bottom. Simply you can't have good without evil type thing.

Remaking Me: can I change?

Went to AA today. Read the account of Bill W. the man who wrote the twelve steps. He's got an interesting story. He says in the last few paragraphs of his story that "An alcoholic in his cups is and unlovely creature." Being the wonderful person I am, and an alcoholic I think that of course can't be me. I'm all types of awesome, there's nothing unlovely about me. When really that's not true.

What makes me pause is that he's willing for the benefit of suffering alcoholics every where, to examine how he thought of himself. At first before he thought he had a problem he could have conquered the world. Then when he hit his bottom he wallowed in self pity. Truthfully I have spent hours, if not days, going over my faults and found myself lacking. To everyone else though I tried to have the appearance of a person with some level of control over myself. I do this so I can say that I am all types of awesome. My struggle with being an alcoholic is all about finding the balance between saying I'm all types of awesome and believing, then proving that I am.

How does one make awesome happen? Well with work, lots of it, and not just a marketing strategy. I have to work at several things: letting go my anger, being humble, being of service with out expecting gratitude and allowing myself to be vulnerable.  Things that in my opinion are just not part of my "plan".  In particular being vulnerable, I've got a wall so high and so thick that it might take years before I allow that to happen. Years.

I'm not going to go into detail about how I got to this point. Seriously, that's like, asking for someone to make a joke in poor taste. The point is I have reached a level in my life where things need to change. With four months sober things are actually changing! Surprise!!!! Hopefully they keep on changing. As I work through the 12 Steps with lots of help from within and outside of AA, I will be the person I say I am. As if all this awesome could get better (oh course it can).