I have started to see a pattern in my depression, the mornings are worst. It seems to get better as the day passes and the most important seems to be to go out and meet the light. That usually helps a bit. Otherwise I feel like killing myself most days when I wake up.

Still struggling with the question “Why?” and starting to feel a debilitating guilt for all the sorrows and worry I have caused my loved ones. I don’t want to be me, don’t want to go on, don’t want to keep this life but have no other option. Some days the only reason for me to stay alive is because I feel an obligation to do so for my husband. Not wanting to live, but not being allowed to die… How sad is that for a life?!

So, I will get up, get out and struggle on for another day. Towards the evening things will feel easier and I will no longer feel quite so dreadful. I will go to bed, have a good night’s sleep and wake up to the anxiety and angst sitting on my chest making it almost painful to breathe again.

All I want to do is to scream at the top of my lungs, but I will be a quiet and good person. This too shall pass, and I will just take it one day at a time.

 

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I started out the day feeling unbelievably sad and depressed. This has been growing inside for a while. I feel unworthy of love, feel that I deserve nothing good, and that I may just as well continue slowly killing myself. I have felt that I can’t go on living, but I feel a duty not to die. Tricky situation.

Today was a right pity party and I think I made most people around me thoroughly tired of me. Then, around one o’clock came a slip through the door telling me some books had arrived from Amazon, and that I could come and pick them up. That seemed to cheer me up a bit and once I got out in the sun to walk to the bus I not only felt a lot better but also felt a sudden sense of relief in a way.

It felt as if though the big led lid that has been blocking me in when I have tried to connect spiritually had somehow weakened. There was some kind of open line there. I didn’t feel like fighting any more, didn’t feel like anything really just allowed myself to just go with the flow.

I got up to the bus stop just in time to see the bus take off too early and I could have screamed. Had to catch the bus in the other direction and go to the center and change there. Up at the center I could actually feel a power dragging me, trying to get me to walk in to the shopping center and up to the booze shop. It was a very physical sensation and it took all my strength to pull back. Then, as if from no where a bus turned up, either far too early or far too late, but it was the bus that would take me straight down to the village where I could pick my parcel up.

This may sound awfully silly to most people, but it felt as if that bus was sent to me for my salvation today. That bus was most probably late or early for a perfectly good reason, but it came right in time for me. Pretty much like that night bus in Harry Potter…

My Spaghetti Monster came through for me and it felt very special!

It’s been a while since I wrote, not so much for not wanting to write as for feeling absolutely dreadful. Isn’t it ironic that I feel ever so much worse not drinking than I ever did drinking? I ache all over, my hormones are all over the place and I suffer from both anaemia and hypoglycaemia. The depression and the angst that has kicked in we shall not even begin talking about…

Why give up drinking when this is what sober feels like? I feel endlessly lonely and sad, but I know this is following a “normal” pattern. Still doesn’t make me feel any better. I don’t want to do this, don’t want to do anything to be honest. What I want to do is to curl up in a dark hole and never come out again. I feel worthless…

I wouldn’t necessarily say that alcohol has made my life unmanageable – it was long before I took to alcohol as my drug of choice – but that the alcohol I used as means of calming my nerves from the effect of living in chaos aggravated this chaos to an extent where I could no longer cope at all.

My first drug of choice was fantasy. I created a world for myself to live in, a world I could bear to inhabit. I have done this for as long as I can remember, but the first time I managed to spin a tale so real that the adults in my life actually believed me I had just turned four. It took me years to get grounded and clear up the mess of 30 years living in fantasy land. Having said that, I did actually manage to move into the realm of most people’s reality and if I could manage that I can manage sobriety!

It wasn’t really until a year ago that alcohol became a problem. I had been a heavy drinker at times before that but I had always managed to keep the drinking under control and had no problem holding off. I also never drank alone until then, and I didn’t try to hide my drinking.

So, the unmanageable bit….

Financially – I drink to forget financial worry and end up spending yet more money. Not just on the booze but by spending recklessly when I’m on the piss. The next day waking up worried sick about how we are going to get through the month and then putting the lid on by drinking – and spending – yet more. At the moment I’m working myself into the grave to be able to get on my feet financially and I have kept ruining this by drowning the stress and worry.

Socially – I get extremely big-headed when drunk. There is nothing wrong with parts of my self confidence at the best of times, but when drunk I get obnoxious to a point where I just cringe thinking about it the day after. My computer, and phone, ought to be fitted with alco-locks!

Emotionally – It all comes down to one thing, I demand constant confirmation of commitment from those nearest to me. Most of the time I feel like I’m unworthy of love, but when drunk I crave for this confirmation to a point where I wear people down.

Results

The results of my drinking today is that I live in constant fear of poverty (more direct than the relative poverty we live in today) and social abyss.

I could actually shorten that down to that alcohol aggravates the constant fear I live in and I’m so sick and tired of being afraid all the time!

I want to be able to walk down the street with my head held high, want to be able to look my fellow man in the eye without having to wonder if they have witnessed me doing something pitiful and embarrassing, want to be able to have a few pennies left in the bank at the end of the month…

Today something wonderful happened, I actually managed to pray without that feeling of a lead lid on top of my head. I found a straight line to My Great Spaghetti monster and it felt good. I asked for guidance, I asked to be shown the right path and I asked to be accepted to do TGSm’s work.

You know what? I think it worked!

I fell asleep, my first dream being about flying in a hot air balloon. I have no idea why it was significant, but I know it was. I believe I was on my way to a meeting. Then my sponsor phoned and accidentally woke me up. A few words later and I was back to sleep.

Just before waking three hours later I had a dream about being at an AA meeting. One of my friends was also there, and it was clear to me that we had been going together to meetings for quite some time. The meeting was at my home group.

We had arrived slightly later than we usually did (I’m a notorious early comer these days) and the room was filled with people who don’t usually attend that meeting as well as those who do. The new comers turned out to be several people from my youth and it made me so happy to see them, but also so infinitely sad that they also had come to this…

Then I woke up.

Now I feel quite calm, quite content, quite mellow but also strangely elevated. Maybe I am being granted to get in touch with bits of myself again, I don’t know. Doesn’t really matter, what matters is that I feel good!

I’m working my first step and my sponsor has asked me to write a page on how alcohol has made my life unmanageable. This is harder than I would have thought.

I mean, when you read the first step “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.” it sounds quite obvious, of course we did or we wouldn’t have gone to AA in the first place. But then, to sit down and actually put it down in writing, all the horrid things that happen to you – or rather all the horrid things you, yourself, put yourself through when you’ve been drinking – the pieces of the puzzle falls together and you’re struck with remorse and fear.

I did this to myself. No one forced me, no one did this to me.

I’m not sure what’s worse – admitting my faults to myself or to my sponsor. I’ve always fought so hard to uphold a nice and flawless façade and now I have to shatter it. Clearly I realise that people have seen through this for a long time, but still it’s a struggle.