12:10 am
There is no way around it: I am angry. I am just plain angry. I want to scream into their faces, Who do you think you are? And, what, exactly, do you think you’re doing? It’s about being sober, and being able to see those people SO uber-clearly now, 5.5 years later–and seeing that some of these faces are bullies, and the bullies can’t touch me anymore.
I think I have had a lot of bullies in my life, and I NEVER knew what to do about them–out of fear, out of self-loathing (as in, for some reason, I believe I don’t have the right to talk back), out of lack of self-confidence (as in, my idea or path can’t be the right one). I let people bully me–but I also, of course, participated in the exchanges by not being direct, or being secretive, or taking things too personally, or just plain assuming things that were not or are not true. That’s part of my alcoholic drinking problem as much as it is a personality “flaw.” However, not “talking back” led me to bury a lot of anger, and to learn to bury it and be passive-aggressive (which I fully admit that I can be). Now, I see the bullies and their ways for who and what they are, and I do talk back, and the response is usually one of either reciprocal anger or deeper bullying tactics. And this, too, I can see, and it makes me angry!
Am I paranoid? Maybe. I just feel like, with these handful of old relationships, they’re still running on (over) the “old me” tracks. Even now, years later into my sobriety. It’s actually strange to see how these people either try to continue their old ways, or simply detach because they just don’t know how to relate to the new me, or simply don’t want to relate to her.
Can’t we move forward? Is it my job to school them on the “new me?” Probably, and eventually. It’s hard, though. It takes a lot of trial and error and effort! And, for people who for some reason refuse to acknowledge my sobriety–my having gotten sober–it just doesn’t seem possible to have a relationship. And that is the hard truth, because I am the one who has to accept the change and move on with or without their ability or desire to relate to the new me.
Maybe letting go of this anger and paranoia, this is part of that elusive process of “forgiveness?” I wish I felt some sense of sustained relief, of renewal when I have chosen to forgive, but it’s more of an intellectual pursuit for me–the next day, when I think about that person, I feel angry again. Nothing has changed, inside or out. I know that I should continue to try–but, IF these people are in MY PERSPECTIVE (again, that could be skewed) bullying me because they still think of me as sad or poor or drunk; how can I cultivate good will toward them? It just doesn’t compute…yet.
It could just be a matter of having those hard conversations, where I, um, tell them how I feel and allow them to explain to me how they feel. Haha. Oh, me.
On a somewhat different note: I am not at home (where we get a LOT of sun) right now, and I really notice it (I think your brain gets used to a certain amount of light and can no longer function well in places that are darker). That is me, now; it’s actually been me for years, and every time I come back to this city, I am a little bit less enamored (I am in the cold city where I became a drunky drunk girl, and where I also started this blog two days after quitting drinking). I’ve been here before, in this space of being reminded, literally around every turn, of what went down and who I used to be–and, I’m used to the sour feeling in my eyes and belly and brain, that thing I just can’t shake, that time machine effect where suddenly, I am closer to BEING that old me than I am of only just remembering who she was. And, it is not a good feeling; it’s not as heart-hurtful and soul-sucking as it used to be, but it’s still there.
Am I still there? Maybe I am; or, maybe I’ve just never dealt with my anger. I don’t get it. FIVE years later, after having worked through what I thought was my anger, and now…I see that I’m just scratching the surface? It kind of scares me, this whirling from past to present and back again; how my emotions can exist in a timeless state, evergreen, able to trip me with the flick of a brain cell back into my past. Boom, and I’m literally there; and it’s hard to not feel the same way, to not see myself as my past self. The thing is, I AM that person, as much as I am the one writing this now; I can’t not embrace what happened to me, what I went through, because that has made me the person I am now.
Is this how it’s always going to be, living in a prism-like reality, where it’s never really over? I guess as long as I have memories (which, hopefully will be until the day I die!), and as long as I choose to confront these deep-seated feelings that caused me to drink in the first place–no, I don’t think it will ever be over. In fact, for the first time in many, many days, I’ve thought about drinking (more than once while here; not good). I have even slipped into thinking, ahh, it would take the edge off, it would be such a nice treat, a reward for slogging through..what? A dark, cold night? A storage unit that seems to have a life of its own? Um, NO. No, no, no. It would SO not be a relief, or a treat. Duh, I know this. God, do I know this!
I have had FIVE damn years of practice, of re-training my brain–am I just feeling extra-sensitive to the triggers here because this is where the worst of it went down? Probably, and I will remain steadfast, but…I haven’t heard the whiny voice of wolfie-boy (a pup barely in the womb, that’s how small it is) in a very long time, and it’s more confusing and surprising than anything.
On that note, I have to close it up because it’s midnight and I have a bunch of stuff to do tomorrow. Needless to say, I still love this city, and I am, of course, grateful to be here, now, sober.
