4/3/18
Dear Pen pal,
I woke up this morning before my alarm
went off at 6:15. I got 6 hours of sleep, but feel more well rested
than I have in weeks. (The depression doesn't make you feel rested,
its just a weight that keeps you in bed longer.) I got up early to go
to East side sunrise. My friend Layla is leaving to Iran for a month
and I really wanted to spend more time with her before she left. My
growth in recovery has allowed me to go deeper into relationships
than ever before. And as an added gift, as I was heading home, I saw
Gradey Proctor in his car waiting for the light. We rolled down our
windows and said hello. I felt big gratitude for community. Which led
me to thinking about that word, community, and knowing that that is
why the person I dated for a month dumped me. I must write about
them, but I won't write out their name to respect their anonymity,
and instead will refer to them as Jasper, which is probably a name
they would like.
Jasper was scared. Jasper wanted to
keep their romantic relationships separate from their friendships and
their work life. Jasper wanted control. I have learned, through my
experience with addiction primarily, the more you try to control
something, the more you've lost control. And when I spoke of my
community, and all I do to maintain it, they did more than furl, they
expelled anything that might of come of our interaction. They were
comfortable with getting off, and flirting with whatever idea of me
they were turned on by, but as with all things, the reality of the
way I conduct myself was not going to jive with the carefully curated
control they have on their reality.
Now, I reflect on their person-hood,
their actions, my actions, and patterns, I am unearthing this
realization of how I need to write it out. This connection to
writing. I've always kept journals, and even used codes to make sure
I could get it out, but remain safe. And now I see I need to show
myself some of the ease I allow others. I see the compassion, that I
give, and I apologize for those time I judged you on your fears.
Fears are SO necessary. They help us. Fears are triggers. Fears are
real. I'm sorry I judged you, and tried to offer myself as a solution
to your insecurities, because I AM flawed. Obviously. That doesn't
mean I'm not without quality. I'm an experienced human, yes, lived
real experience with MISTAKES.
I can't burn all those bad ideas in
fire and look at the ash thinking it's gone. No, I can't control
others. I can only control my actions. And even that is impossible
sometimes. Sometimes those impulses take hold and send a text that
was malformed. Sometimes I buy sugar, caffeine, cigarettes, and avoid
all things good. Sometimes I roll down the windows and break speed
limits. Sometimes I let the heart do what the head insists is
illogical. How I long to drive and drive and drive away from my life.
Those hard, hard moments. I'm not sure I can drive fast enough. And
driving away from my life, away from my perception of what is wrong,
will only result in me driving and finding the same thing....me.
There I am.
I'm sorry it has been awhile since
I've written. Work has been tough. Real awful actually. I'm not being
honest to myself. And I'm holding on too tight to things that aren't
working. And I'm using the wrong tools to stab through the
falsehoods.
I'm leaving to Chicago Wednesday
night. I'm so excited. This is my first time traveling east of New
Mexico. I paid for the trip with my own money. I'll be at a labor
conference but I hope to explore a bit. It's going to be cold out
there. I plan on eating deep dish, hot dogs, and finding the Mexican
barrio that I've been told about. I'll pick you up a gift.
I'm sure I won't find bones like I did
in the desert, but I'm sure there will be ghosts. And I like those.
I'm going to sign off. My musings are
starting to ramble. I will close with this thought:
Nothing is impossible.
I must go call my sponsor. A walk will
do me well. I'm going to go visit that house I was dreaming about at
6 am. I will pretend it is mine, and every, window would be covered
in my houseplants, and a lazy dog, and cat would be there keeping me
company as I played Thelonius Monk and shook the dust off my record
collection. Wouldn't that be nice?
Talk soon,
R
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