I want so desperately for you to trust me, even though I am slowly gaining trust in myself. After breakfast on Sunday (and eating a few bites of eggs), I was hesitant to use the restroom afterwards in fear you would think I was not keeping my food in. Should I keep the girl's bathroom door propped open or wait until someone else walks inside? I made you feel my stomach before and after I used the restroom, not only to insure you of my safety, but to hold myself accountable, just in case.
Here is my progress report: my sleep is still interrupted on a nightly basis. I wake between 1 and 3 am after taking half of an Ambien to medicate myself into my initial sleep. When I rouse, I try to read a few chapters from a book to see if I can fall asleep again on my own, and if that is unsuccessful, I will take a Klonopin. Last night I tried to fall back to sleep around 3, but neither the medication, reading, nor drinking a cup of tea helped. Someone in my meetings informed me they could not sleep their entire first month of abstinence. I'm looking forward to nocturnal month two...
I miss you already. I knew I felt love for you before, but loving you when I am healthy is so much brighter. I just read a quote this past weekend that reminded me of you, "Wittgenstein once wrote that when the eye sees something beautiful, the hand wants to draw it. I wish I could draw you." - Nicole Krauss
Monday mornings always bring a feeling of separation anxiety for me. I don't want you to leave me (to my own devices) because it takes a while for me to restructure my thoughts. I spend the weekend not having to concern myself with positive affirmations when you are around. I'm too busy laughing with you and being present for myself. The adjustment period come Monday morning is trying; it reminds me of when I moved back home with my parents after I left Birmingham-Southern. This was the summer and fall after my first year of college. My bedroom at home is upstairs in the front of the house, my bed displayed below the angular window overlooking the front lawn. I can remember waking early and hearing the sounds of my mom preparing for her day, knowing she would be out of the house by no later than 6:30 am, my dad having left for his early morning workout an hour before. I spent so many anxiety-filled moments peering through the slats of the custom-blinds of my window, feeling a rush of relief when I saw my mom's white car emerge from driveway. I would force myself to wait a few minutes before heading downstairs to the kitchen, leveraging the stair-rail as I tackled the steps four at a time, not even bothering to brush my teeth or insert my contacts before I began my morning binge.
Quirkiness is a habit I wonder will ever devolve. I need to feel safe to maintain my sobriety; I cannot leave the house too regularly on my own when I am hungry, I cannot go to the grocery store without a premeditated list in hand, I must begin each and every day with a detailed schedule or else deviation will lead to destruction. This morning I knew I did not have any Equal for my usual coffee, and I was not willing to pay the exorbitant price for organic aspartame Whole Foods sells (what, like $13?!!). Instead of driving to the grocery store to purchase the fake-sugar, I walked to Starbucks, ordered a short coffee, and took a handful of sugar packets from the condiment bar home with me. I still don't trust myself to drive to a grocery store with only one item on my list, especially on a Monday morning with no food or coffee yet in my belly. I'm feel strangely fortunate to have a limited weekly budget right now, because I fear if I had money to burn, I would be sitting in front of the tv with groceries on the counter, food in my mouth, crumbs down my shirt, and trash at my feet. Instead I'm living day one all over again.
1 comment:
Congratulations, 1 month! :) *hugs*
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