I spoke with my doctor today about altering some of my medications and doses. I’ve been at a standstill for a week or so. I aim for balance and harmony in my life, but there is a distinct difference between that and stagnation; I have no trouble sleeping 12 hours a day, but then I have zero motivation to do anything remotely productive when I finally do start my day. I haven’t been writing, I’ve participated less during meetings, I haven’t worked out in a good few weeks – even the media consulting work I’ve been really enjoying has taken a back seat.
I really hope this is about the medications. I’m taking pretty solid doses of different pills that have different effects. It’s frustrating because I am feeling and acting “lazy” against my own will. There are certainly times that by my own accord that I choose to simply do nothing and enjoy an idle day; this feeling is not like that.
It’s confusing, too. Were I drinking and started feeling this way, I would probably just…drink more. It sucks when your knee-jerk reaction to shitty feels is to try to subdue them with alcohol. And sometimes it makes me feel guilty and angry – why can’t I just deal with this like anyone else has to? It feels like a cop-out sometimes. “Yeah well I’m an alcoholic, so I have to deal with everything differently you know.”
‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.’ One of the rawest, most soul-baring films I have seen.
I haven’t really felt like this previously, up to this point in my recovery. I guess this is one of those times they refer to as “work,” that nobody said “would be easy.” Moments like this I really miss my autonomy. It’d be nice to shake it off by getting away to see a movie, visiting a friend elsewhere, even just driving around aimlessly into the night.
‘Drive.’ Another incredibly raw piece of cinematic greatness.
To be honest and open in sharing is a personal goal in my recovery. Sometimes, though, I just can’t make myself “want” to do that. I don’t want to hash out this conversation with five different people. I know that when people ask how I’m doing, they would listen and express concern if I did not simply say “Good!,” as is the common/expected response in our culture. But I feel no shame in saying that’s asking a lot, for me to put forth that amount of disclosure. Why should I be expected to? Writing helps me. Sometimes it is enough.
“Lord, forgive me for my shortcomings /
for going on tour and ignoring the court summons”
This also makes me realize how badly I just want to go get lost in something. I’d like to remove myself to a secluded, tropical beachfront, and build myself a shack near the water. I’d bring only a polished record player and a few crates of LPs. Learn to surf. Meditate. Read. Sometimes I find it difficult to buy into this life that I’m living out for myself. Why? Why should do any of this?
If it weren’t for my soul-crushing debt, I’d just leave. In fact, that’s really the only reason keeping me focused on finding gainful employment – I want to be absolved of the burden of what I owe financially. My (liberal) timeline for this, providing I find a good salary-type position in the immediate future, is 2+ years.
If I accomplish that whilst staying sober, I might simply just pack a bag and leave. To where almost doesn’t even matter right now. Just…not upstate NY. Some drunks become delusional in thinking that a geographic relocation will solve their substance abuse issues. I am not foolish enough to trick myself into thinking this; I just want to travel and gain the worldly experience one can only find through intercultural connection.
It’s been just shy of four months that I’ve seen live music. That is one thing I miss with certainty about working as a promoter – at least once a week (if not three or four times) I got to enjoy the setting. A road trip out to somewhere like the historic Red Rocks venue in Colorado would feed me nicely right now.
Change the resolution to 720p and watch in full screen. The sheer scope and magnitude of this is breathtaking.
Since I can’t get lost into any of that now, I’m going to go get lost in my headphones and endorphins on the treadmill. Apologies for what was mostly just therapeutic writing for me; I still intend to make up the four other posts I’m behind on. Tomorrow has to be a new day.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –