I bought some new clothes tonight. I had to. I don't know where half of my belongings are... some were delivered, some were left in hotels, some were thrown out. As an alcoholic, I have a difficult time keeping 'nice' things. For ten years, I had a pair of $300 Revo sunglasses that were absolutely perfect for me. They fit like a glove... except, um, they were sunglasses. I went "off the grid" (as my ex likes to call it... I think that's an accurate description, too), had a bender in a motel room and lost them. Now I have a pair of $5 sunglasses that fit just as well. I was going to buy another pair of Revos, but was scared to death that I'd lose those, as well. So... $5 dollars. And they look just as good...
Anyway, depression can be your friend - if you're looking to lose weight! If you take a look at some of my Facebook photos, then you'll see I had a bit of a stomach, a round face... basically, I looked bloated. That was the alcoholism. Just like Hope - I could see it in her eyes and her face that she was healthy - you can tell in my photos that, for years, I was drinking. I didn't necessarily look unhealthy, but I was bloated and poisoned.
For the past year or two, I've been in and out of AA, trying my best (kind of), and getting a handle on the underlying issues that started this roller-coaster ride. Aside from my therapist, I've seen several psychiatrists that decided, "You have depression, anxiety and (I love this one) a mood disorder otherwise unspecified - MDOU." What the hell does THAT mean?! If a doctor ever tells you that, then your response should be, "Fuck off. I'm fine." I've been on many different anti-depressants and I seem to be the guy in the AD commercials that gets all of the side-effects and none of the benefits. Every time I go on an anti-depressant, I relapse. I get moody, irritable, angry... I may as well be drinking. And so I do!
Well, I've definitely been depressed (which came first, the chicken or the egg? the depression or the alcoholism?) and it's affected my eating. I *might* eat twice a day, but it's unusual. I will say that I took up running for a bit and that helped my weight loss, but......... I bought jeans tonight that are the same size as the jeans I had in college. I've lost around 40-45 pounds in less than a year. I even bought new shirts because my others were too baggy. Sexy, eh? I'm pretty sure this kind of weight loss was considered a "No-No" in my nutrition and physiology classes at UMass.
So for those of you who think depression can't be a good thing, think again! You too could fit into jeans that you wore when you were twenty years old!!
On a more serious note, today suuuuucked. I did NOT make a meeting tonight. I woke up late this morning and was entirely emotional today. Unfortunately, I've learned that's the process when you're sobering up again. You have days where Hope is all around you and days where life seems to suck. Work was entirely hectic, yet it wasn't enough to distract me today. One minute I'm feeling great and the next thirty I feel like tearing someone's head off, screaming, crying. I get resentful and angry ("Why weren't you there for me?? Wait, you were there for me. Okay, then why didn't you do more?! Oh, you tried. Okay, um, you know what? You just suck... let's leave it at that."). I was back and forth all day long. Thankfully, several people posted on my wall to take the day ten minutes at a time. It was more like two minutes at a time. But - I did nothing foolish other than beat myself up and that kind of beating will pass in "time". I'd put the bat down, then pick the bat up... put the bat down, then pick the bat up. But Hope won, in the end.
It's probably half the reason I bought some new clothes tonight. I tend to substitute my addictions. When I'm "itchy", I transfer my urge to drink. In this case, I shopped. Mind you, I called my sponsor and he ordered me to find another meeting. My therapist also 'ordered' (she never really orders anything) me to find meetings closer to work... to be around people I might relate to a little closer. Well, like a good sponsee and patient, I did neither. I came home to shower, eat and write, instead.
And tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow night is a wonderful meeting that I *enjoy* attending, along with four this weekend. Work may be entirely different and, as long as I sleep well, my mood will probably be entirely different. Or it might not. If it isn't, then I'll listen to Hope, pop on some Christmas carols, joke with my coworkers and thank Heaven above that it's Friday. I'm still emotional now and yet all I'm doing is writing and relaxing. I saw someone tonight who means the world to me and I'm hoping for quality time this weekend with a few people. This quality time worries me, to be honest. Chances are, the conversations will be very candid... or not. See, I'm projecting like any good alcoholic should!
So, it wasn't the best day on record, but I made it. And, by the way, I apologize to those who have been writing to me privately and haven't received a reply. I had NO idea what kind of reaction these blog entries were going to have on people and I've had many responses. I've also lost a couple of FB friends since I've been writing, noticed that some of my replies to others have been deleted (THAT pisses me off)... guess I'm hitting a little too close to home for some to deal with. Generally, your replies and support have been truly amazing and I thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.
I'll end with some music again. People close to me have heard this a million times. My favorite GNR song, for twenty years, has been "Estranged"... appropriately how I feel lately. I spoke at a commitment a long time ago and mentioned the following lyrics -
When I find out all the reasons
Maybe I'll find another way, find another day
With all the changing seasons of my life
Maybe I'll get it right next time
I've never seen so many people cry during a commitment as I did that night. I got another shot at life and this is just a changing season. A new one is around the corner and "maybe I'll get it right next time."
Here's Hoping.
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