Did you ever get the feeling you were in just in the wrong place? I get that feeling all of the time. The problem with this feeling is that I have no idea where I am suppose to be. I often think it is just a side effect of the disease of addiction but I am just not sure.
The more I listen to really good country music the more I think there is something to be had in the South. Maybe it is just the nerve the blues and southern roots folk music hits? I’m not really sure and it is certainly crazy to think that being anywhere else would make me feel better but I think about it anyway.
I think about it anyway…
The same thing happens at work…in life…in recovery…Maybe it will be better somewhere else because it just sucks here and I’m tired of being sick and sick of being tired. It is like a million layers of transparency with all of these little subtle facts lying on top of one another. At some point it comes into focus, or maybe it goes out of focus (shifting movement of transparencies) and when that happens everything in my life seems wrong.
I tired of hearing myself. I’m tired of all the same shit and I want something to change. I don’t know how things are for you people out there but for me it all happens so quickly or maybe I just have better access to the way I feel.
I am so dammed sensitive and the only solution to my sensitivity is recovery. For me that is attending a twelve-step fellowship, working with others, and maintaining my spiritual condition. I don’t want to do it. I want to go kicking and screaming and do it my way. But that way ends me up in the dreams I only write about these days. Dreams manifested into a much worse reality. A reality where I am hurting myself and others and will at best end up on deck to recover again someday, but only when its my turn again.
Last night, at the meeting, when I was taking a leak I actually had this thought “Maybe I could use once without messing up my whole life?”. I haven’t used now for 2707 days or 7 years 4 months and 28 days. That is most certainly the longest time I have done anything besides breathing. I’m grateful for that and even more grateful that my life isn’t the mess that it was just a little while ago.
But…
I have to keep doing more. It takes more and more and more and more. I have all of this stuff going on in my life and I don’t know which to do. I want someone to come in and clean all my shit up and tell me in which direction to go, but we all know how well that would work. When the disease is on I’m playing a game that’s constantly changing and I’m playing by myself. No one wins and no one losses it just keeps going forever and ever and no one is ever satisfied.
Ah fuck…somewhere else would just be more of the same. I can listen to John Prine from Cambridge and not fear the recourse that would come from a free spirit living in the deep south but maybe all of the stories aren’t true and they are accepting any loving…