"Well, baby, I'm a put-on-a-show kind of girl." - Britney Spears
I went to dinner with a group of friends tonight, and during the course of conversation, I realized that it’s probably not appropriate for me to be publicly disclosing all the aspects of my recovery journey on this online journal. In times past when I’d heard the tradition of maintaining personal anonymity at the public level, the crazy person in me had interpreted that to mean “when I go on David Letterman, I won’t tell the world that I’m a member of Alcoholics Anonymous.” Never did it cross my mind that this tradition meant that I probably shouldn’t be identifying myself as an AA member to those outside of AA. Never did it cross my mind that, gee golly, maybe I shouldn’t be discussing my personal AA experience in a public venue. Obviously, I have problems with, like, thinking reasonably about things.
Honestly, it does kind of upset me because I am, notoriously, the chick who knows no boundaries when it comes to personal disclosure. Granted, I have gotten better at drawing the line; it’s been a few years since I updated the online world about my pap smears (you’re welcome). Nevertheless, I do have that weird, self-obsessed sense that I’ve got, like, this obligation to be a cautionary tale or martyr or role model (what?!) and expose to everybody the trials and tribulations of being me. And, you know, it’s not for any sort of reason of wanting to help or inspire others; it’s totally about having an interesting blog and getting page hits and figuring out any kind of way that I can profit from my life experiences because it’s totally unfair that I should have to struggle without as many people as possible paying attention to me. I mean, isn’t that what is really my issue here? For pretty much the last decade, my attitude has been, “Well, if I can’t put it in a book and make money off of it, then I’m not going to do it.” For years, my entire purpose for participating online was the hope that somebody “important” would notice me, offer me the contract of a lifetime, and make all my dreams come true.
The problem here is that it would seem that maybe I’ve been using AA for extremely selfish and profit-motivated reasons. That isn’t to say that, on a personal level, AA hasn’t been the key in keeping me alive and hopefully leading me to a better life; what I’m saying is that, by talking about the experience publicly, I’m a total asshole and betraying the fundamental principles that make this program work. To have complained to the whole world about my former sponsor is outrageously disrespectful. I should have my ass kicked.
Personal evolution is excruciating when you’re going through it. As I wrote in one of my fan fics, “self-awareness of this shit sucks.” I love my ignorance. I love being completely unaware of how my behavior affects others. I love it because being aware means having a conscience and having to make difficult changes, and that isn’t fun. I don’t like having to give up what’s become comfortable or pleasurable to me.
I am at a place in my life where the decisions I must make very rarely result in an immediate feeling of satisfaction. Tonight, I’ve come to the realization that I really shouldn’t talk about AA on here anymore and for a number of reasons, especially the fact that I have not been a good example of how this program works or should work or whatever, and that is totally unfair to an organization that’s responsible for saving hundreds of thousands of lives. Tonight, I decided that I’m no longer going to do my little “AA updates” on this journal. And, no, I’m not happy about it. What am I going to write about now??
This is the next step for me to take. I’ve been challenged to think about something other than my own interests and aspirations for the sake of that which is larger than myself. That’s uncomfortable for someone as self-absorbed as I.
So between practicing personal anonymity at the public level and not trying to have sex with someone I’m attracted to (no matter how much I fricking want to), my definition of “things I do for enjoyment” is pretty much shot. That doesn’t mean I’ll never have fun again; it just means I need to reevaluate. Redevelop. Discover. Venture. Grow. I’m not thrilled about it, but there are plenty of new opportunities to have a good time.
Like having dinner with friends.
P.S. Today marks 30 days of sobriety. What up?
Honestly, it does kind of upset me because I am, notoriously, the chick who knows no boundaries when it comes to personal disclosure. Granted, I have gotten better at drawing the line; it’s been a few years since I updated the online world about my pap smears (you’re welcome). Nevertheless, I do have that weird, self-obsessed sense that I’ve got, like, this obligation to be a cautionary tale or martyr or role model (what?!) and expose to everybody the trials and tribulations of being me. And, you know, it’s not for any sort of reason of wanting to help or inspire others; it’s totally about having an interesting blog and getting page hits and figuring out any kind of way that I can profit from my life experiences because it’s totally unfair that I should have to struggle without as many people as possible paying attention to me. I mean, isn’t that what is really my issue here? For pretty much the last decade, my attitude has been, “Well, if I can’t put it in a book and make money off of it, then I’m not going to do it.” For years, my entire purpose for participating online was the hope that somebody “important” would notice me, offer me the contract of a lifetime, and make all my dreams come true.
The problem here is that it would seem that maybe I’ve been using AA for extremely selfish and profit-motivated reasons. That isn’t to say that, on a personal level, AA hasn’t been the key in keeping me alive and hopefully leading me to a better life; what I’m saying is that, by talking about the experience publicly, I’m a total asshole and betraying the fundamental principles that make this program work. To have complained to the whole world about my former sponsor is outrageously disrespectful. I should have my ass kicked.
Personal evolution is excruciating when you’re going through it. As I wrote in one of my fan fics, “self-awareness of this shit sucks.” I love my ignorance. I love being completely unaware of how my behavior affects others. I love it because being aware means having a conscience and having to make difficult changes, and that isn’t fun. I don’t like having to give up what’s become comfortable or pleasurable to me.
I am at a place in my life where the decisions I must make very rarely result in an immediate feeling of satisfaction. Tonight, I’ve come to the realization that I really shouldn’t talk about AA on here anymore and for a number of reasons, especially the fact that I have not been a good example of how this program works or should work or whatever, and that is totally unfair to an organization that’s responsible for saving hundreds of thousands of lives. Tonight, I decided that I’m no longer going to do my little “AA updates” on this journal. And, no, I’m not happy about it. What am I going to write about now??
This is the next step for me to take. I’ve been challenged to think about something other than my own interests and aspirations for the sake of that which is larger than myself. That’s uncomfortable for someone as self-absorbed as I.
So between practicing personal anonymity at the public level and not trying to have sex with someone I’m attracted to (no matter how much I fricking want to), my definition of “things I do for enjoyment” is pretty much shot. That doesn’t mean I’ll never have fun again; it just means I need to reevaluate. Redevelop. Discover. Venture. Grow. I’m not thrilled about it, but there are plenty of new opportunities to have a good time.
Like having dinner with friends.
P.S. Today marks 30 days of sobriety. What up?