Daily Reprieve

I don’t know what happened when the sun went down today, but I really don’t like god.   Or maybe just the concept of god.  And now the anxiety returns.  I hate this up and down crap.  I want to bleed tonight.  To hurt until I am out of my mind with the pain.  To cut my flesh and see the red flow, and taste it.  What changed?  I missed one damn meeting and here I am.  Makes no sense.   I want to fight – I don’t care if I win or lose – just fight hard.  I want to be lost in an eternal orgy of mindless fucking.  My heart is racing.  I am going to try and get myself back into bed.  I wish war would consume this hellish peace, this place of day in day out driving in line, saying bless you when some one sneezes, walking freely not because you are safe, but because you are unimportant.  Judged by mindless manipulative drones of a world built on a system of mendacity.  The invisible carrot stick of rewards and punishments pitting us against ourselves and each other. 

I don’t want to be noticed, scrutinized, judged.  I want to be left alone.  Or do I?  I just don’t want to be drawn and quartered by significant but conflicting passions and devotions. 

Finally, a yawn.  good night.  Dammit!  it obviously isn’t a good night.  Why did I say that?  I will say simply ~ end day.

Life is an unanswered question, but let’s still believe in the dignity and importance of the question.
Tennessee Williams

It is 6:40 am Central time and I am now 45.6% complete on the 4th column of resentments for the 4th step.  I ended up adding 2 resentments.

It is 7:02 am and I am now at 46.4% complete.  I added another resentment.

It is time to get started for work.

“The bondage of self.”  This concept often sounded too religious to swallow for me.  But the burden of my alcoholism, the demands of the craving, and the mental gymnastics necessary to support and justify the obsession, are nothing compared to the bondage of self.  I look back over my military service, and how I diverted time away from necessary disciplines to make myself feel better, to pay tribute to desires that have challenged my health and my ability to be of service to younger soldiers who need me now.  My great possession of a consensual slave has been riddled with neglect so that I could appease this monster in the closet.  Family relationships dry up as I must protect my time and space from their intrusions.  And what is the fruit of this great devotion to myself?  I hate me.  I resent me more than any other human on earth.  But I know the buttons to push to make me do what I demand of me.  An exorcist once faced the futility of his efforts in my behalf and said, “there is no way I can deliver you from yourself.” 

I am fucked if there isn’t a power greater than me.  I cast a shadow over myself, and know there is no escape.  That is the true nature of my powerlessness.  What-ever you are out there, please help me.  I am so tired and exhausted.

Higher Power, what ever you are, I want to drop my guard.  Quit arguing.  I fire myself as my taskmaster and the builder of my life, and I consent to you taking over.  I have been my everything, and it leaves me with nothing inside.  I am powerless over the bondage of self-enthronement.  If your energy does not fill and move me, I will step in and take over, and die in non-consensual slavery to my soul-crushing designs.  I need you, really need you.  I am not going to make this, cannot face this anymore.  I believe that it is your will that I flourish as a person.  Don’t give me the freedom that leaves me alone and wondering and ignored.  Give me the freedom of intimate empowerment.  While you are loving others and working miraculous transformations, please let me be apart of that.  Should any of us die alone or live in tragedy if there is a way of life that is happy and free?  As you are helping me grasp this way of living, please let me also help others grasp it.  I am not just looking to obey you, but to be you in whatever way you chose.  If you are not my everything, you will become my great nothing.  Instead of my own voice dripping with self-judgment and screaming demands that echo in my skull, please let me tune into your will and guidance and take the action necessary to keep me out of my head and in this life.  I am tired, so tired.  Such as I am, I request that you empower and use me.  Whoever you are.

Good night out there.  whoever you are.

I really want to complete this 4th step.  I am in pain tonight.  shit.

It is 9:26 pm central time and I am now at 42.4% complete on the 4th column of my resentments.

It is 9:41 pm and I am now at 43.9%.

It is 9:58 pm and I am at 45.5%.

I’m exhausted…got to go to bed.

My new sobriety date remains 16th June 2009.  I am still alive.  I have been doing well, got to spend some wonderful time with both my slave and my daughter.  I am tired.  I made a meeting to escape the sudden appearance of the obsession.  I am trying to move forward with the 4th step.  I will load my progress here.  Remember that I am 100% complete on the first 3 columns, and am trying to finish the 4th column on the Resentments.  I have not touched Fear or Sexual Sanity yet.

I was at 28.8% complete on that 4th column.

It is 10:21 pm central and I am not at 30.3%.

It is 10:35 pm and I am at 31.8%.

It is 10:56 pm and I am at 33.3%.

It is 11:32 pm and I am at 34.8%.

It is 11:45 pm and I am at 36.4%.

It is 12:03 am, 22nd of June, and I am at 37.9%.

It is 12:42 am and I am at 39.4%.

It is 12:57 am and I am at 40.9%.

I have finished those resentments associated with God.  I think I am going to go to bed.

Did you ever just want to die…to have all this shit wrapped up and over with?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dipFMJckZOM&NR=1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAsV5-Hv-7U&feature=related

Bye

Please don’t call 911, I’m just feeling this … I have no plans to self-terminate.

Again.  I’ve done it again.  People in recovery are starting to talk to me about going into detox so that I can get some space between me and the first drink.  My god I don’t want to do that.  I feel like such an idiot for not being able to stop.  I know that I have a disease, but it is so ridiculous.  Why can’t I white knuckle this thing down for just a short time so that the recovery process can take hold?  I told them in the recovery room that if I am not stopped by next weekend, I will consider going in.

What a horrid night!  That self-loathing I talked of in the previous post became a voice that I could express as if I was in spiritual contact with another entity.  I wanted to record what was being said to me, but the computer kept freezing up.  A bag moved in the room.  Other small sounds that startle.

“You might as well drink, you aren’t worth anything sober!  What the hell is your major malfunction boy?  You don’t have the guts to do what needs to be done.  You disgust me, you little pussy.  You can’t even devote yourself to simple daily disciplines, someone always has to cover your ass.  No wonder you disappoint everyone you are around.”

The desire to drink last night was the desire to stop hearing this voice.  Who or what the hell is it?

I have no idea why I am still sober this morning after dealing with that diatribe of reflective character assassination.  It is not with me this morning.  Well, not as a separate entity.  I retreated to my room last night and went to bed.  I did not even bother taking off my cloths.  I threw the covers over my head.  Shit! Another damn nightmare.  Three nights in a row now.  But I was physically exhausted enough to rest in the bosom of my succubus.  Good night, Lilith.

My personal mythology no longer includes special effects from “The exorcist.”  Demon supported theology pits human beings against one another.  It is one of the pillars of the religion I hate.  I can no longer embrace it.  Church attendance was turned into social quarantine.  There is a saying that has crept into the rooms that is so close to this religious concept, that I fear the possibility of a churchian hijack of our beautiful spirituality.  “Hang with the winners.”  Religion is effective at behavioral control, but only at the cost of your personal mythology.  That habit of dismissing others as losers tends to boomerang on its practitioner. 

A more scientific explanation for last night’s encounter would be that the chemicals are having residual effects as they are leaving my body and mind.  And in my anxiety I was doing something to cause problems with the computer. Yet in my heart, I feel there was more than that going on.  As I meditate on this I can hear my history professor. He said that like the journalist, a historian must be concerned with the questions who, what, where, how, and why…but the historian’s most important question is So What?  What is the significance and relevance.  If I have a way to escape, why measure the teeth on the predator?

I have found that one of the spiritual tools this program has given me is the power to walk forward without knowing.  Acceptance is the solution.  I am an alcoholic, and when I drink – bad things will happen.  Being able to move forward and take action without having a supporting religious dogma gives me hope.  I am alive today for a reason and I know this intuitively.  I cannot describe to you what that reason is.  I just know it is there.  But I could be wrong, and that is ok.  I will follow this unknown God, this undefined Higher Power, because it is able to restore me to sanity.  And sanity precedes serenity. 

I want to say thank-you to the unknown God.  I don’t know where the hell You’re going, but I want to walk this out with you.

I went to the candlelight meeting at the Hut.  My sponsor asked me to come with him to a smaller split off meeting, away from the newcomer’s meeting.   Topic:  Dealing with the character flaw of anger.  Interesting comments, but I have heard them before.  I know that my time in the second treatment facility we talked of anger.  I had identified several forms of it in myself.  Big surprise.  Anger is not wrong when it is within boundaries, when it is used to help facilitate some needed change.  But it can also be used to mask other terrible things that are going on inside.  I can be afraid or hurt and anger will hide that fact when I glance in the mirror.  A clinched fist cast a more impressive reflection than a cringing, weeping child.  All the guys, talking about how they desired to see this short-coming eliminated, said things like “I just wanted to punch his eyeballs through the otherside of his head,”  or “I used to be the kind that would retaliate with a knife in the kidney and be out the door before you knew what happened.”  My personal favorite was, “All my scars are on the front of my body, that’s just how I am.”  That need for bravado rushes in with a strong masculine desire for respect and significance, and stays because no one knows how to manifest strength and still deal with the reality of their own fears, the poisonous hurts that will not heal. 

My sponsor dropped a couple of interesting seeds;

I’ve got an I problem with a We solution.

Actions lead; the emotions will follow.

My disease has amplified my emotions in a way that I haven’t had to deal with in a long while.  I am dripping with self-hatred.  I cannot seem to escape this harsh self-judgment.  I’ve had nightmares the past two nights.  If I call someone, what do I talk about.  I don’t want to hear myself whining over the phone. 

My mind and emotions are working against me.

I’ll play computer games I guess.  Maybe I’ll go to bed.  Maybe I’ll call my sponsor.