Sunday, January 09, 2011
Blue sky ahead
I survived the storm in spite of the last eight months being more like a squall. Always expending energy; never moving forward, never back more or less bobbing in place being beaten down by external forces. My structural integrity is compromised and there is more than a little bit of cosmetic damage. The exterior is more simply fixed with new window trimmings, a bit of elbow grease and care. The hull is a different matter. Everything rests upon having a strong internal structure. That is where my focus is today.
I started therapy. First time in my life I've felt the need to reach out for help. Today is day nine of putting myself in dry dock; no more drinking. I would like to say forever but I'm just not ready to make that commitment as it seems so daunting. Right now my goal is to make it through January but if I'm very honest with myself, I know I have to quit forever.
Over the last year and a half with Big Love I haven't slept, eaten, developed a wicked alcohol dependency and have had massive panic attacks. I've become a mere shell of who I am. I'm 5'9 and a size 2 which is ridiculous. I shake all the time, my thinking has been clouded and my reasoning fueled with jealousy, competitiveness and hatred. My moral compass is spinning. I need to find my way back home.
I hadn't spoken to Big Love for two months. In spite of my hearing from him constantly, hearing how he was taking the Ugly Girl everywhere with him (places he thought I would be so he could rub it in cruelly) I was doing better. Over Christmas I made a critical error by speaking to him. He promised me anything I wanted to come back, he cried and begged. It didn't take very long for him to return to his natural delusional state. He immediately reminded me why I cannot be with him. Although he said he was heartbroken over my loss and could not bear to date, after I rebuffed him he sent me a picture of a 24 year old fetish model he supposedly had a date with. He told me he gave my Christmas present away to another woman. He told me he would not dump the Jew. He hung up on me like a 13 year old girl would. Incessant texting. Melodramatic multi-page emails. Showing up at my place uninvited, three times. He is a trigger and I drank heavily over Christmas week.
Detox was a bitch. The only symptoms I did not enjoy were hallucinations, seizures and death. I white knuckled it through the headaches, sweating, insomnia and nausea. In the calm after the storm I am enjoying sleep for the first time in a year and a half. I am thinking more clearly. I have had moments of genuine happiness. This is just the first week. The water is still choppy but for the first time in a very long time I TRUST there is smooth sailing ahead.
Placing myself in dry dock is also a pretty exciting time. I am allowing myself the chance to thoughtfully walk the beach and examine every smooth rock and shell both in front and behind me. I am setting the course for the rest of my life. I have been on auto-pilot for too long and I am now consciously mapping out my journey. My therapist is my North Star that is safely guiding me back home. Happy New Years!