That last moment of optimism

I drafted this at lunch, but before I could post it, it turns out I am not redeemable after all. So the bottom has dropped out of my world again, but I guess at least that’s finality? I don’t know if I’ll be up to writing much in the next little bit, so enjoy the optimism in this before reality set in.

So, one whole month. Fucking hell. Let me take a moment to sit and reflect on this achievement before I dash off and order myself new shoes as a reward. 

This January has been so fucking hard and honestly I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. A break up (? I mean, I guess. One little box emoji is not very much to go on but I’ll clutch at it anyway), endless uncertainty, being forced to confront all the fucking shitty stuff I have done over my lifetime, endless loneliness and depression, setting to work on myself with a psychologist and a personal trainer AND starting a new job and a new relationship, all without the fake-soft cushion of drunken oblivion? Bloody hell.  

Yeah I know a lot of people do Dry January, and good for them (I mean this genuinely, but I’m aware it sounds snarky). I have at least two more months to go alcohol free before I can start to think about whether I want to bring it back into my life, in a greatly reduced form of course. And that’s a decision I’ll make with my psychologist, and I’ll be keeping well-free of the HALT triggers (that’s Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired, if you’ve only just joined us). 

People on the Daybreak app talk about how their partners don’t support them, or how their friends still want them to drink, and I just feel awful for them. Everyone who is still talking to me has been nothing but supportive. People have really stepped up for me and for that I will always be grateful and hope I can return the favour whenever it is needed. It’s been particularly good/strange to have people message me about how my posts have helped them examine their own relationships with alcohol. To have wonderful smart people still care about me when I was convinced I was the lowest of the low and undeserving of any sympathy played a huge part in being able to realise that I could still be redeemed. Your mileage, however, will of course vary on whether or not you believe I am redeemable too.

Seb woke me up at 4am and I couldn’t get back to sleep so I lay there with my brain trying to tell my other part of my brain that I can’t control anyone else’s actions but mine, and that I can’t control what people think of me, but also just uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh just the unresolved missing and no closure. It would be better to focus on the happy things – like just how gorgeous Gabbi’s smile is and how nice it is to be snuggled up with her while watching the really violent Vikings – but also, there’s that whole ACT thing of sitting in your feelings and feeling them. It is most inconvenient of feelings to show up at 4am though. I was still awake at 6am and you can tell because today I was so tired I’m wearing all black (apart from rainbow jewellery of course) and I never wear all black. Pretty excited about a sleep in this weekend, hopefully. And another nap on my new couch. 

Speaking of Seb, I took him to a new vet this week, which is just three minutes up the road and I really should have moved him over a lot sooner. The vet was a man, and I’ve normally had women vets, and because I have crushes on everyone who handles my pussy carefully I was like “oh yeah, that’s right, I’m bi!” (which is a strange thing to forget when one of the people I’m pining for is a man, but, brains).  He has gingervitis – Seb, that is, not the vet, as far as I know, but the vet does not want to operate because sedation at age 17 is not a great thing for cats, and after losing Florence to a stroke under sedation, I am inclined to agree. I want him to be as comfortable as possible but I cannot lose him now. He is my rock. My very furry rock. 

The other day when Anna & Sara came over to play games, I opened up a bottle of alcohol-free rose, and the act of opening the bottle made me crave an actual drink so bad so I won’t be buying that again. Of course pot is illegal so obviously that’s not an option, but if it was, I’d still be thinking about it and whether or not I deserve to have any of the sharpness that’s coming at me softened. I’m trying not to use benzos too often either because I have so much to learn about functioning without a cushion. I’m just finishing up a period so hopefully sleep will improve with just the magnesium supplements and increased physical activity, and I definitely think the b12 is helping with my stress levels, though of course my brain does still go into overdrive on the thinking and reflection. I am looking forward to starting EMDR next week at counselling, although I am also scared because it’s yet another new thing and I will be trying my very best to be good at it, and I might try too hard as a consequence. We’ll see. 

Work is really hard. I don’t remember how to do general comms. I need to upskill myself. And in other work, Boom right now is a waiting game for the Jo Jo Jim Jams and also the rest of season four. Luckily I have become very practiced at waiting, though my constant ARE WE THERE YET?????? messages to Jo might suggest a different story. I need to sell some stock so there is room for Jo to make it to her bed when she comes to stay. I get to see her in sixteen days. I can’t wait to take a nap with her. 

Please keep telling me how good my skin looks, I am a very vain creature and I need the praise. 

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