(no subject)
Do you know who I am anymore?
Spent 34 days in rehab up in Rockford. I wish I could go back. I don't know if I am ready to live life... and I'm not sure how much pretending I can take.
I started a program... or... to be more pointed.... the 12 steps. With a sponsor. The way you're supposed to do things. And... meetings. NA, AA, CA, CODA, whatever I can get away with. I feel kind of ridiculous, talking about my vaguely identified and ever elusive 'higher power' so often. I can't help but feel the cultishness of it all, even though I convince myself that this is what's best, what's going to help, what's going to keep me sane, sober. I read the big book and pretend that Bill Wilson is sitting here telling me his own story, in some attempt to win me over with his charms, being the womanizer he is.
I live in Forest Park now, which is a really cute little town next to Oak Park. I walk, a lot. I can usually get away with feeling relatively sane, however, thoughts incessantly continue to wander around in my head, overwhelming me with their pointlessness.
What am I in this world? Why was I born? Are we all somehow connected? Is the world... the galaxy, the universe, whatever's outside of this universe... really small?
These questions overwhelm me, and I keep coming to the conclusion that if it really is that small, then what is the point? I'm not suicidal or anything, but these things generally seem to depress me, and then I'm in my head again with no way out. I cannot for the life of me, seem to be able to take things at face value, to just live instead of worrying why I live. Wasn't I lucky that I'm not dead... choked to death in the womb? This doesn't really console me either...
I keep filling my life with people, thinking this might make things easier... get me out of myself, get me to focus on good things, but it just makes me sad. Makes me remember you. I'm not at the 9th step yet (made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others), but even if I was, would I ever get the chance? Could I possibly injure you more than I already have? I don't need a lot of time... just an hour before I die.
And yes. I am realizing that just because I am inherently fucked up, doesn't mean that it's an excuse.
Spent 34 days in rehab up in Rockford. I wish I could go back. I don't know if I am ready to live life... and I'm not sure how much pretending I can take.
I started a program... or... to be more pointed.... the 12 steps. With a sponsor. The way you're supposed to do things. And... meetings. NA, AA, CA, CODA, whatever I can get away with. I feel kind of ridiculous, talking about my vaguely identified and ever elusive 'higher power' so often. I can't help but feel the cultishness of it all, even though I convince myself that this is what's best, what's going to help, what's going to keep me sane, sober. I read the big book and pretend that Bill Wilson is sitting here telling me his own story, in some attempt to win me over with his charms, being the womanizer he is.
I live in Forest Park now, which is a really cute little town next to Oak Park. I walk, a lot. I can usually get away with feeling relatively sane, however, thoughts incessantly continue to wander around in my head, overwhelming me with their pointlessness.
What am I in this world? Why was I born? Are we all somehow connected? Is the world... the galaxy, the universe, whatever's outside of this universe... really small?
These questions overwhelm me, and I keep coming to the conclusion that if it really is that small, then what is the point? I'm not suicidal or anything, but these things generally seem to depress me, and then I'm in my head again with no way out. I cannot for the life of me, seem to be able to take things at face value, to just live instead of worrying why I live. Wasn't I lucky that I'm not dead... choked to death in the womb? This doesn't really console me either...
I keep filling my life with people, thinking this might make things easier... get me out of myself, get me to focus on good things, but it just makes me sad. Makes me remember you. I'm not at the 9th step yet (made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others), but even if I was, would I ever get the chance? Could I possibly injure you more than I already have? I don't need a lot of time... just an hour before I die.
And yes. I am realizing that just because I am inherently fucked up, doesn't mean that it's an excuse.