Friends of Bill W.

Originally Posted by LeftWriteFemme

I am so delighted!! Day 22, such a wonderful number!!!

What the hell are they having you write about Munich??? Sounds like this thing is quite a twist in the knickers for you. I wish you happy pancake day! and ease with your writing.

I had a very brave day yesterday, maybe today is your day. I made my first book digitally available, I have been stalled on this for a very long time, but yesterday it all came together and I got the notification this morning that it all worked!

Hugs,

Sherrie

Wooohoooo Sherrie, that is fantastic! *hugs* Very well done on being so brave. You're an inspiration. We're far too skilled at procrastinating about good stuffs for ourselves aren't we?

22 is a wonderful palindromic number. What do they call it at 'bingo'...Two little ducks I believe

Yup Munich, the title of which is, Who 'won' at Munich Hitler or Chamberlain? has caused serious 'knicker knotting'. The tutor who's set it studied under AJP Taylor and is Mr.Academia. I'm having serious 'performance issues' over it and as I said, have had numerous benders over it. I need to swallow the fear of judgement and just do it.

I was feeling soooooo good today even despite getting to the acupuncture venue and it being called off; hopefully it will be on again tomorrow. I'm just glad I left my 'seeds' stuck on for now.

Then I rolls up to the 'staying sober' place and was let into the group room and immediately introduced by my birth and my usual name. I was livid and said so as I'd asked the guy to use Scooby last week. I didn't deal with it particularly well but not particularly badly either. A couple of months ago I would have told him 'F*ck you mate' and left the building. Instead I found a seat and settled into the session but I was still so very angry. I'm glad to say that when I explained properly about why I was so angry I got an apology...this guy also calls all female bodied people 'ladies'

Anyhoo, I'm a happy chappy again and still stoked to be sober.

ps. I won't be doing pancakes.

Day 23

Oh my giddy aunt I feel like crap today. I went to bed at what I still consider a reasonable hour, midnight, and was asleep within half an hour. I had the weirdest dream of which I was aware during in it that it was disturbing me in a really bad way but I couldn't stop it. I don't feel rested at all this morning. I was running from bad people all night. At least I dream nowadays, as an active addict I rarely dreamt, or at least I never remembered them, my brain was so numb. Here's hoping for happy dreams tonight.

In other news; I don't know if acupuncture is going to happen again today, I hope Josie is ok and not too poorly but I will still be attending the 'staying sober' folks.

I'll probably go to the meeting tonight...it's a rotten rainy, windy day so I'll phone my class-mate for a lift - not something I often do as I like to be in control of when I arrive and leave places.

On a brighter note, I managed to find a little concentration to do a little work on Munich last night. A tiny bit of progress is better than none at all.

I'm so grateful to be sober

[LeftWriteFemme]

February 22

SAFETY IN MY CHAIR



Sometimes I have to sit with my knees tucked up under my chin. My feet can’t touch the floor at these moments. I hug my legs to me, I feel contained but somehow adrift in my chair. I center my mind on breath and pulse. Pure fear flits and flutters while I gain my composure. When I feel safe enough to put one foot down, then the other, and connect with the world again, I am leaving home to embark on this earthly trek. The journey is there for me every day but some days I curl up in my chair.


Complement your feet with your shoes.


*

Patricide

I never killed my father.
Why finish a job that
someone is completing all on his own.

It’s not that I didn’t wish him dead;
I did and do for that matter.
Don’t misunderstand me,
I wish him no harm,

It’s just that he is like a creature so tortured
that he is nothing but a danger and a misery.
Left to live he is a hazard to everyone
he has contact with, an agony to live inside.

What can I wish for him,
but departure and rest,
something he can never give to himself.

I don’t plot, don’t scheme,
I only know; know in part,
the terrible lie he lives
and hurt he drags from place to place

Acting like it is not there and nothing matters;
let’s just get by. So, if he is not dead he should be.

He is the embodiment of the hurtful impotent god
and I don’t kill that man
but I kill the image, perish that thought.

[Tommi]

Originally Posted by LeftWriteFemme

February 22

SAFETY IN MY CHAIR

Sometimes I have to sit with my knees tucked up under my chin. My feet can’t touch the floor at these moments. I hug my legs to me, I feel contained but somehow adrift in my chair. I center my mind on breath and pulse. Pure fear flits and flutters while I gain my composure. When I feel safe enough to put one foot down, then the other, and connect with the world again, I am leaving home to embark on this earthly trek. The journey is there for me every day but some days I curl up in my chair.

.

Thanks for always writing just right.


Sitting in my rocker for the day may be just the thing I need.
Life and death at my door, the old and the new, memories, and the feeling that I am living on the edge of my seat. I step off not knowing what the next dive bombing bird will drop in front of me, on me, or just leave pinned to my door.

FedEx notice taped on my window. "Needs signature. Will leave on Porch. FedEx will not be responsible for lost or damaged..etc.etc.." If I stay home from work and sit in my rocker, the package will be safe, but will I.

For today, oatmeal and almonds, oranges and java, and going to work will take getting out of my chair. A presentation to 70 big business strangers this afternoon about what they must to do to stay out of trouble , their opine and displeasure to follow~~ and I will be thinking about my feet off the floor, curling up safely at home.

Sober and clean one more day. and maybe a FedEx surprise when I return.

Have a good day everyone, and thanks for keeping the light on.

Tommi

Day 24

Pleased to report that there was no nightmare last night. However, I got nearly 8hrs sleep and still feel knackered but not half so badly as yesterday. I know it's early days in recovery and that this is 'normal'. My body is still recovering and repairing itself.

In other news it was a cracking meeting last night. Apart from when I surprised myself and made a little confession to another member that I'd never met before that I wasn't totally abstinent. That member dropped me like a hot brick. Quelle surprise.

So, I've made this confession to another member so I shall make the same one to you lot.

Here beginneth the justification ...I don't eat sugar, live on caffeine drinks, smoke tobacco or drink alcohol but I still have a teeny tiny bit of pot on a bong some but not every evening. I take strong painkillers which I hate due to having a broken body. A couple of small bowls, because I actually don't like being too stoned, in an evening means I don't necessarily have to have those damnable painkillers and my body gets to relax a little. I'm not saying that for others this is the right path but I can personally live with it.

I know for some other addicts this means that my sobriety isn't 'real' and that, God willing, my 30 days recovery from alcohol dependence on leap year day next week, won't count. It is why I always say I'm grateful to be sober but I never say clean. This also means that I shan't be asking for my 30day NA key fob. So be it. If folks want to judge me for this then that is their problem. I won't judge them so harshly for surviving on caffeine, tobacco and chocolate..

I'm glad I've 'confessed' because the programme is about honesty but I feel like crap having done so and have properly killed my own buzz at being sober.

Ok, yes I'm a bad addict...gimme your worst.

Despite feeling like crap about this, for now, I am so very grateful to be sober. Just for today

[LeftWriteFemme]

February 23

COMING TO THE TABLE



For many years, decades even, I stacked the table against myself and others. I piled the sacred next to trifles; I deposited item after item and built towers to confusion. After years of sobriety, I sorted the piles in earnest. I made a place for myself at the table. It is amazing what I can accomplish with a seat and a surface. Over months, tediously separating the needed from the useless, I made a place for others at the table. There is a whole world of life I had missed while trying to keep myself safe from unrealistic expectations---expectations of who I am and what I can do, what I should do and who I should do it for.
Having strong boundaries and a clean table is like a homecoming. I am coming home to me. The good games and happy meals had at this table are unexpected and surely welcome. The wall I built held good times at bay because I could not keep the flood of trash from spilling in from every direction. I had to learn to hold my head up before I could look around.


Invent a new language to talk to yourself in.
*

Ace

Like an ace in my pocket
step one is the beginning
and end of my step work.

This step carries the high and low count;
its rise is so near to the ground
I didn’t have to lift my chin to clear it
as I crawled my way in here,

Its appeal so exalted that it is all I hear
when I finish the twelfth
and am on my way back around.
the high and low of any hand.

Plus the card I keep up my sleeve for emergencies.
The greatest blessing is I don’t need four of a kind,
not even a pair; as long as I have step one.

I am guaranteed a full house, full heart and full life
between you and me that’s just how I like it.

Day 24 9.55pm

Feeling even more crap. Resentment and anger building. Palpitations. Addiction monster being fed by negative emotions. Judged and judging. Feeling like I've just found another place I don't fit into the ready-prepared little box they have for me.

In reality, I know I'm having a bad couple of days and that this too shall pass. It's the first really bad head-space since the day I started detox meds. I have a NA member from tonight's meeting phoning me later. I shared one-to-one what I'd said last night and most of what I was feeling.

Someone posted in one of the threads I saw this morning that when life throws you limes make margaritas. I wish but I won't. Oddly this sort of crap doesn't make me want to drink because I know it won't make it better, infact it would make it a whole lot worse. Relief would be temporary.

So, you have my sick thinking stream of consciousness. Take it how you will.

My name is Scooby and I'm an alcoholic. For today I'm relieved, over-joyed and so very grateful to be sober despite myself.