It’s a Pity Party! And, you’re invited!
And so, day 90 began my forth month in sobriety, and with it, the ultimate self-pity party. This is soooo the opposite end of the spectrum that I should be coasting in right now .
I’m in a rut, and I’m digging people. I’m feeling sorry for myself. And, even though I went to three AA meetings yesterday and two today, I’m still in it. This is starting to be a deep-ass well of self-doubt, self-judgement, and self-blame. I feel lonely and helpless. Sad and tired.
So, I’ve spent the whole day trying to turn it around. Meetings. The gym. A Nap. Cooking. Hanging with the cat. Coffee. Cigarette. Coffee. Cigarette. Coffee. Cigarette. But, I’m here on the couch feeling miserable. Woe-is-me. And, it’s pissing me off. With three months sober, I thought I’d be past this childish crap.
Au contraire mon frere.
I try to keep this blog as solution based as possible. Even when I’m having a rough one, I try to use this space to search myself for the positive twist, to share with you, and, to remind myself: It’s going to be ok. And, it is, going to be ok. I know that not every day can be a good one, fuck, not every year can be a good one. And, it’s that perspective that I have to keep in mind. These last few bad days are nothing in comparison to the whole fucking year that led up to my getting sober.
Here I am, feeling sorry for myself for being down and out for a few fucking days. While, prior to getting sober, every, single, fucking day was a miserable pity party with no end in sight. A pity party that I didn’t have to invite you to, if you were near me, you were there, with your cocktail napkin and a pig in a blanket, whether you wanted to be or not.
As I sit here typing this, looking at my Christmas tree, glowing in the dark of the room, votive candles flickering on the mantle, Frank Sinatra crooning Christmas songs in the background, I’m starting to see that as bummed as I am at this moment, I’ve been to worse parties. At least it’s fucking festive.
So, I guess it’s back to the kitchen to bake some sugar cookies. ‘Cause what’s a pity party without excessive amounts of sugar?