I can’t believe I missed the Olympics …

London Olympics 2012

This past Friday night, as I watched the opening ceremonies, I realized that I missed an entire Olympics four years ago. I had no idea of this fact until I was watching the ceremonies. I even had to look up where the previous Olympics were held in 2008. Apparently they were held in Beijing. Who knew? Looks like the rest of the world was aware of this fact.

This is significant because I always loved the Olympics. I remember my first Olympics that got my attention in 1984. I even bought a handbook with all the rules for every game in the Olympics. I held court in our living room with my Smurf sleeping bag for the entire run of the games. Though I am not an athlete, I love watching people strive for something they believe in, and I’ve always appreciated seeing people perform at the height of their passion. I have a soft spot for dreamers, and Olympians are dreamers just like us writers and artists.

But, I missed an entire Olympics in 2008. This fact is still amazing to me even as I type this post. The larger question is what happened?

Addictions happened. While the Olympics were taking place in Beijing I was about to hit bottom with my alcoholism and sex addiction, and I did hit bottom on August 28, 2008.

In retrospect, I can see that I replaced my passions with addictions to the point that there was little left of the real me. So, let it be a cautionary tale, if you find yourself setting your passions aside, ask yourself why. And, most importantly, what is replacing your passion?

I hope that every Olympics for the rest of my life I find myself sober on all addictive fronts, and pursuing all of my passions.

(Photo credit: Andrea Vascellari)

The pool

swimming pool

The pool scares me. I just stare at it, and dip my toe in, while I try to figure it out.

My particular pool is a new friendship. I don’t get a lot of social invitations. Between my PTSD and depression, I’ve not socialized on any grand level in a long time. I do get out to see friends, but only a choice few, and not on any regular basis.

Jack is a new friend. He was originally a match.com date where we both mutually decided we weren’t right for each other. Then, shortly thereafter, he asked me via email  if I was interested in a friendship. In that moment I remembered asking Carlene in girl scouts if we could be friends, and she just gave me this uncomfortable look. In that moment when I read Jack’s email I thought to myself, “The rules changed? It’s ok to ask for friendship? Where have I been?”

I was invited over for dinner, and you would have thought my elation meant I had been asked to the ball. Something as seemingly pedestrian as a dinner invitation does not come around very often for me. When I was actively alcoholic I was known as the “fun girl” and I had plenty of social invitations, but the transition into sobriety has not been smooth socially. There’s no other way to say it. It’s been lonely.

We made dinner, and talked. We really talked, not just news, weather and sports bullshit which bores me.

I enjoyed his company, but I didn’t want to like it too much. I think I’ll stay in the shallow part of the pool for now.

(Photo credit: freefotouk)

just open the door and step right on in …

The doors of LIFE[Day183]*

This seems like a simple enough concept. You intend on going somewhere, and once you get there you just open the door and step right on in … However, depending on the place, that’s not always how it goes for me.

Almost four years ago I made myself walk into an AA meeting because I knew I had reached the end of my rope. Groups of people can be a trigger for me though, and I never truly felt comfortable there. After nearly four years I still feel sick to my stomach going into a meeting. You would think I would be past this stage by now, but I’m not.

Which brings us to today … Right now I am in a Starbucks very sick to my stomach because I intended to go to an AA conference which is taking place down the street from here. The closer I got to the conference the sicker I felt. Finally I just came in here instead. I decided to bag the whole thing. I feel like a failure over it, but physically I feel better now that I decided that I am not going.

A person may ask why I try so hard to go to AA. Well, I see people in there that are genuinely happy, and I really don’t want to drink again. Basically, I want what they have. Many of them seem peaceful, sober and happy. When I am able to sit through a meeting without leaving I often hear things that resonate with me. But it is often very painful for me to sit through meetings because of my anxiety of being in a group. There are countless times when I drive all the way to a meeting, and then I turn around and drive home because I can’t make myself go inside.

Truthfully, I’ve had some negative experiences in AA. But I don’t attribute my anxiety to that because I felt this way before I even had those experiences, and I know that those experiences were not unique to me. I know that a number of people have had negative things happen in AA. By the same token, I’ve had some positive experiences as well. Just wish that I could get myself in there to experience more of it, positive or not. I’ll never know until I start going again.

But for today I am going to try to stop beating myself up over it. I feel better now, and that’s not a bad thing.

(Photo credit: Chapendra)