Whirlwind of emotions today. I went to lunch with Scout after a quiet morning— took Scar to the park— and then we ambled up to a park where S. dropped me off to a hang with program friends for a sober anniversary picnic.
As soon as I arrived, I noticed a boy in the group who I found really beautiful, and for the rest of the event I was split brained — half in the present, and half in perma-awareness of this boy, watching him, or pretending not to be watching him. We spoke a bit, and it was nice.
More people trickled into the group and at some point I realized that I was becoming overstimulated and tired, so I left to walk to a meeting nearby. On the walk, I called Scout and I told her about the boy, the frequent eye contact, and my rapidly beating heart. She asked me how long he’d been sober, and I said some time over a year, which I only knew from his Instagram, which I’d looked up as soon as I left. We discussed how I’m not meant to be dating within the program, nor within early recovery, and I agreed - but the tape was already spinning in my head.
I got to the meeting and snagged a coffee in the lobby before going up to the room, but then I realized that there were two different meetings happening at once, and the one I was planning to go to was slated for an hour and a half instead of an hour, which made me anxious. I decided to leave and walk to another meeting a few blocks away, slipping in the door 5 minutes late and finding a seat.
There was a speaker, and when I arrived he was reflecting on his childhood and how he remembers that he always wanted ‘more’. He talked about the obsession, the power that the desire for ‘more’ had on him, even before it was drinking or drugs, back when it was just the amount of cereal in a bowl.
I got up to use the bathroom, and when I returned, guess who I saw in the corner of the room? Of course, the boy from the picnic. And the tape began to spin quicker— it was god who steered me away from the last meeting! I was meant to be here!
The meeting ended and I spoke to some people and went outside, joined a program friend who was standing with two girls and the picnic boy, who greeted me with a ‘long time no see.’
At this point, I was quickly ascending into a circumstance induced mania, and we all walked (I think I may have been skipping) down toward the park. I was buoyant as a bunny, smiling from ear to ear, until one particular conversation in which I discovered that picnic boy was actually dating one of the girls in our little group!
My mood began to crash and burn, with no hope for resurrection. I felt silly, and ashamed, and generally unsettled, which I masked (I hope) for a solid 10 minutes until we passed a station from which I could catch a train back home, and I split from the group. The closer that I got to my apartment, the more overwhelmed I became by my desire to cry.
I still feel that urge now, but I feel something else, too: the flooring awareness of a pattern.
The speaker’s words echoed in my head— more, more, more. When he was speaking, I kept thinking about how the desire for ‘more’ implies the empty space to house what we seek, and if ‘more’ is never enough, then perhaps that empty space is bottomless. In the program they describe that emptiness as “a god shaped hole.”
I realized, in this all-at-once sort of way, that people can be drugs to me, too — especially where romance is concerned. In truth, I didn’t know anything about this person beyond a few sparse words and a pleasing visual, and that was enough to hand over the control panel to my inner psyche, to externalize my capacity for joy in that moment.
Though not in the way I initially believed, I do think that it was my god that led me to that room— to show me on a hyper-speed scale just how ready and willing I am to abdicate the self, to fixate on another in hopes of being filled, and how- (as people are not meant to be stuffing)- horrific the comedown can be, always is.
I don’t want to do that with people anymore. I see why emotional sobriety and romantic abstinence is suggested in the first year of recovery. It would be so easy (in a way) to abstain from drugs & alcohol, but place that same obsessive, unending desire into a different form—people.
I suspect I really need to put a pause on romance & its pursuits for a while, and with intention. I want to be a person who doesn’t need people so desperately. I think that’s the only way I’ll find a way to truly be close to them.
Before Bed
I felt much better after I wrote all that earlier, but now I feel small and sad again.
I went out to meet friends, and I felt so disconnected from them — maybe because they’d been drinking, or maybe because I just wasn’t in the right energy to be social. Either way, that quote is in my head, “hell is other people.”
I know that isn’t true, but it can seem that way sometimes. A few days ago, a friend overseas texted me and told me that his life felt like a bottomless pit. We spoke a bit, and I advised him to go to sleep - I told him that things are always better in the morning.
I think I’ll have to take my own advice now. I’ve been up for a long time, and I’m sure the tiredness isn’t making the world seem any brighter.
At the bar, I didn’t want a drink, but I was annoyed that I couldn’t have one. Sometimes I drink because I’m feeling insecure, but other times, it’s to make the situations I’m in more bearable, when really I just ought to go home.
I’m glad I went home. Gonna pray now.
Things will be lighter in the morning.
♡