soberbowlsuperfest

Source: soberbowlsuperfest

I totally plan to be in Houston during the Super Bowl next month and I’m actually kinda excited to attend this event.  I’ll of course partake in the excitement of traffic, celebrity stalking, saying howdy to tourists, giving (hopefully accurate) directions to those same tourists, and whatever other SuperMayhem comes with hosting a SuperBowl brings to this city.

SuperExcited LI 2017…

While we’re on the topic… two years in a row, when the Patriots were in the SuperBowl, I had a gall bladder attack and ended up in the ER… too much dark beer and chili con queso was the diagnosis, but seriously… I’ve eaten that combo for YEARS and nothing… it was totally a Patriots curse and they’re playing my Texans this weekend… I had to remove my gall bladder… I hope the Patriots don’t rip my heart out by winning this weekend.  Go TEXANS!  Here’s another gif of working the program…

The disease is strong with this one… still.

My disease is working on me today… it’s filling my thoughts with doubt/self-pity/resentment/fear/and fuck you…

I had to re-write my half-assed answers from yesterday’s meeting and I couldn’t do it… every time I tried to start, a thought or better known as an obsession came into block that positive action… the obsession would insert nagging thought or longing or sentimental feeling or past concern or self-doubt or fear or resentment or annoyance…

It spared nothing and they all started off small but none of them would stop and I would pray and it would pile on… using my pause as a chance to slip another one in…

I could not find peace… could not find the right tune to inspire me to write or to beat the shit out of the growing obsessions… I could not not hate what I was writing and would start and say fuck it and scratch out the words and get pissed and oh, there’s another thing on top of what I’m mad about… I am not on my game I would think…

I had about an hour before I had to turn this revised bunch of shit I was writing and sbux being sbux was getting busier and louder and the employees were at their most annoying ever… “we’re making too much bread… stop repeating the orders… can I help you”  Shut the fuck up…

I know what to do… I’ll head back to the house and find my guy and ask him for help in writing this… he’ll understand my disposition and understand…

But I decide I’ll try to complete this myself at the meeting hall at me house… not going to work… people are alive and breathing… don’t they fucking know what the fuck I need to do and what the fuck is going on with me?

I head out the door… coming towards me is my guy… he says what’s up and I can only stutter “I… I.” And he says he’ll be with me in a minute… thank you God…

We sit down, I tell him I suck and I hate what I’m writing and that he might as well take what I wrote yesterday and he says… “ooookay, I can do that, and if you want to stay where you’re at, that’s fine…” fuck you I’m thinking… but welcoming the condensing tone… he knows whats up…

I love this guy… eventually, he helps me fill in the blanks, translating the sad-sack-emotional-vomit-grunts into the more acceptable English language that this wannabe writer would have loved to come up with himself… he understands addicterbish… I appreciate that…

And yet, my addiction thinks it still has a chance…

We finish the form and he asks me how I like the answers and I tell him I think they suck and I want to start over on my own and jump out the window and not make my life any better.  “What’s really going on?” he asks.  And he asks again and finally one more time and it came out… the truth.

I turned on my phone first thing… before praying and I read a text about my dog and it made me sad and started my day off wrong and it started this whole chain reaction… it wasn’t the text but it was going off routine and not being prepared for the consequences… my addiction was all over that shit…

But thanks to my guy, and his patience and his experience I was able to accept the answers I came up with and I know that I’m not stuck with them forever and they don’t define me and they’re based upon 42 days of clean time which ain’t shit in the whole feelings v reality arena…

The disease is a force… so is the program and my support and my will and my Higher Power.

It’s all been done before or I am not a special snowflake

In reference to my past few days, specifically getting what I want…

I had a great AA meeting last night where I was reminded that I was being ungrateful for the gifts from God… what I had and where I was and how much fucking better it is than it was 42 days ago…

I had a great meeting this morning with myself in the body of another 46 year old addict… the parallels are amazing (punker from the same circles (yet we don’t know each other from back in the day), same non-substance obsession type, same DOC, same same same)…  He has more time and awareness and experience and  his presence is certainly divine and appreciated.  Thank you God.  He’s helping me recognize where I suck… I know it’s because I’m pissed and don’t you fucking tell me I can do better and how vague this perfectly vague answer is… it’s vague because it’s non-committal… it’s vague to make you go “ooooh”… it’s vague to make you not understand and shut your ass up…

I need this guy in my life.  I need to be pushed… he said I was getting comfortable and I’m adaptable… fuck… I totally am.  Being adaptable has helped me get this far… kept me alive… it’s been a form of manipulation… I adapt to fit in… I fit in to get what I want…

He shared the following with me from The Big Book of AA, chapter 5, pages 60-61 and it, uh… nails it.  I’ve bolded the part I most 100%-ly fucking identify with… and I thought no one had ever used this tactic before… lol.

Being convinced, we were at Step Three, which is that we decided to turn our will and our life over to God as we understood Him. Just what do we mean by that, and just what do we do?

The first requirement is that we be convinced that any life run on self-will can hardly be a success. On that basis we are almost always in collision with something or somebody, even though our motives are good. Most people try to live by self-propulsion. Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show; is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery and the rest of the players in his own way. If his arrangements would only stay put, if only people would do as he wished, the show would be great. Everybody, including himself, would be pleased. Life would be wonderful. In trying to make these arrangements our actor may sometimes be quite virtuous. He may be kind, considerate, patient, generous; even modest and self-sacrificing. On the other hand, he may be mean, egotistical, selfish and dishonest. But, as with most humans, he is more likely to have varied traits.

What usually happens? The show doesn’t come off very well. He begins to think life doesn’t treat him right. He decides to exert himself more. He becomes, on the next occasion, still more demanding or gracious, as the case may be. Still the play does not suit him. Admitting he may be somewhat at fault, he is sure that other people are more to blame. He becomes angry, indignant, self-pitying. What is his basic trouble? Is he not really a self-seeker even when trying to be kind? Is he not a victim of the delusion that he can wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this world if he only manages well? Is it not evident to all the rest of the players that these are the things he wants? And do not his actions make each of them wish to retaliate, snatching all they can get out of the show? Is he not, even in his best moments, a producer of confusion rather than harmony?

Our actor is self-centered-ego-centric, as people like to call it nowadays…
Crap… I have to check my motherfucking motives like every fucking word I speak… type.  Sir or ma’am used to be a Texas-raised politeness… now it’s fake respect and means nothing.
I love being able to link this shit together… the thoughts I have and write down are soon to be discoveries that I hope to link and learn from.  Here we go…

Pattern like crop circles

You may have noticed a pattern… I post like a motherfucker when shit is crazy… in my mind at least… basically the loss of control and the disappearance of serenity/pink cloud… fuck it… I hate to be unhappy… and the more unhappy/out of control the more I post.

I’m all over the place and unsettled and unsatisfied and today felt like what did I even wake up for except to learn I hate to be unhappy…

… been riding and killing time and that is not my thing.  I have to what?  What the fuck do I have to do?  Wait… I’ve asked and done what I’m supposed to do and I have to be satisfied and let go… lest I be a bitch…

No need for Calgon

I’m feeling better now… or getting there anyway…

I finally got what I wanted… and met with my sponsor and finished Step 2 and have a reading assignment and meeting tomorrow to go over Step 3…

Maybe I just wanted some forward progress… or fuck… I really just wanted what I wanted when I fucking wanted it…

It took a while, but I got it. 

So thanks to my sponsor… and I’m now looking forward to the rest of my night and a meeting.  

Patience… acceptance… I need a super-sized order of both and I’m pulling through the drive through and it better be ready when I get there… lol.

Love you.