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Common denominators

I am here. Still circling the drain. Just kidding- not really…. ok, maybe a little. 8 days sober this time. Here’s what I put on Reddit yesterday- I have been embarrassed to tell y’all because I just don’t seem to learn do I?

He was very convincing and apologetic to get me back. That’s what happened- so 3 months later life is teaching me the same lesson. I am at the point that I wonder if I will ever “get it” and move forward.

Mindbending, Mindmending

I’ve been wanting to write all day to check in but my computer sucks, so phone it is…

I’ve been having a really hard time with the professor and the police and watching a fog of depression roll into my system. I’ve been trying to stay engaged with friends and family, however, I am not working now and I lost all motivation to even put myself out there to find a job. I would walk my dog and get a half a block away and turn around and come home. Endless hours of television. Skipping meals. No tears but sure signs of depression. Huge guilt for no motivation.

I saw my therapist yesterday. I told her even though I didn’t want to that I needed to make up with the professor and smooth things out and apologize. I knew that this is totally irrational but it felt like it might be the only way to get out of a major depressive episode that was surely heading my way. I would try to captivate my thoughts but they were uncontrollable because it felt like I had grooves in my brain and the obsession to drink was high and almost painful at times. Even though everyone was on my side and he was surely a creep, I started getting twitchy and it didn’t matter what the truth was, I couldn’t see it anymore. I just wanted out of this state I was in, which was likened to PTSD and dare I say, a dash of Stockholm syndrome.

I’ve seen her enough times now that she could read me. She knows enough of my past that perhaps this experience and wanting to “fix” it is rooted in my childhood trauma history and that I can’t just blow this off because it represented a new low and how I see myself. I am glad I was honest but I am not paying her to lie, however I did not expect to do EMDR that day. I’ve never done it before and my old therapist in Nashville was always hesitant because she said I was too sick. I am so glad she insisted because I almost said no and definitely started to disassociate in my body and in the room.

I have an understanding how EMDR works intellectually but after the experience of it, I just don’t get it and I am not going to question it or fuck with it. It worked. I am a believer. Instead of a firework display show with a symphony orchestra going on in my head, it’s now just a few annoying bottle rockets of fleeting thoughts. The compulsion for a drink is so minimal that it feels a little confusing.

I welcome the relief.

She also told me to stay away from stalker, serial killer crime shows but oh my gawd, Mindhunters on Netflix was so good. And I love the girls on My Favorite Murder podcast, I don’t know what I would do without them on my walks. SSDGM!

I found a new book today that I might get, from Trauma to Dharma- it just came out but if anyone has read it, let me know. And my therapist told me yesterday that she is a recovering alcoholic, which I kinda suspected but didn’t know know, this is good.

Police contacted

Putting the brakes on informing the Dean of what a sleaze bag he is, my dear friend is really good friends with the heads of the department and she said she would wait until I am comfortable. I may never be comfortable.

I contacted the police this morning and the officer called him and told him to quit texting and calling and to stay away from me. He said he would appreciate the same from me. Whatever, dude. I did send him a letter in the mail telling him to quit, I informed the police what was written and that this was before I found out about the stalking charges and three DUI’s. They said that was fine and if he tries to contact me again they will be there. He’s on their radar.

This sucks. I am going to an afternoon movie to get out of my head.

Day 5

I took my dog for a walk and listened to some podcasts and didn’t realize because I already knew it, that I keep doing the hardest part of getting sober over and over again. Contemplating this I walked around the neighborhood as I have been doing for a year, I tried to count all the times I had any length of sobriety. The first time I actually tried I got to 196 days. That was 3 years ago. Since then, I have had 30 days here and there. 80 days, lots of 10 day streaks. I don’t get it. Lots of cognitive dissonance to work around, I suppose. I am anxious about telling my therapist tomorrow about the latest events.

This last drinking session with the professor scared the shit out of me. The fucking police. Fucking shit, I am not white trash enough for that to be the new normal. The booze will take me there and it did. There were no consequences and all the drama is gone with the weekend. I have blocked him on my phone except he can still leave me voice messages which he had the gonads to do last night. It basically said that he was sorry that this is my response. What the what? Really, you called the police on me and you think that can be fixed? No. You are lucky that this is my response, no contact. I have blocked his text messages so who knows what he has sent or how many. I locked all my doors and double checked them last night because I am not sure who I am dealing with as I had only known him for 3 weeks. It made me nervous.

Today is day 5. I haven’t gotten a lot done. I laid down to do a meditation after I had gone to lunch and grocery shopping with my mom and went into such a deep sleep for two hours that I could barely wake up, it was an odd sensation because I was dreaming that I had lost my pants and my friend had gotten a DUI as she was coming over for a May 1st celebration. I kept trying to open my eyes but they wouldn’t, falling back into the dream. I did find my pants before I finally was able to come out of the slumber.

I am hopeful that my brain is healing and my body is repairing itself because I have been eating well and exercising and sleeping so deep for long periods that I don’t want to fuck with alcohol anymore. It’s time to quit doing the hardest part over and over again. I’ve sat on the sidelines for way too long. I only have today to make this decision and that’s all I can do. I sure hope it sticks this time…

Another email to Belle

Holy Fucking Hell. It’s another day one. If this isn’t the last one, then fuck me.

It was the new boyfriend, I didn’t want to go on the date and I did and I’m not a terrible person, I just have a drinking problem. And boundaries problems and I wish I would’ve listened to my gut that said don’t go after he had sent me some demeaning texts earlier in the afternoon about Bill Cosby and other fucked up shit.
He’s a creep. I asked him several times to not talk to me like I was a prostitute and he wouldn’t stop. Actually, said he wasn’t paying me. When we got to his house, I refused to go in because I didn’t want to have sex and was going to walk home, or walk up the street and get a taxi or an uber, I just needed to get out of there. My friends didn’t live too far, so I was heading in that direction, nevermind that it’s midnight. He caught me out in the street and physically brought me back, he was berating me, calling me a fucking cunt, slut and a whore. I told him I will just sleep in my car until I can drive and he called the cops. I was just trying to get him to leave me alone so I could figure a way out of there.

I sat on the curb and waited for the cops who stayed with me until my brother could get there to pick me up. The cops told me he was an asshole and that they had had other situations with him before. And they were very kind to me. We all agreed I shouldn’t be driving. They knew I was stunned, I could not believe he called the cops. He told me he was calling them as a precaution that he didn’t get a sexual misconduct accusation because he’s a professor and that would be bad for the university, he told the police that he needed a drunk female escorted from his property. I wasn’t that drunk, (the cops even agreed) I just wasn’t taking his shit and he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

I had a few beers. Got treated as if I were an object, didn’t want to have sex and got the cops called on me. What a great time?

So, no more dudes and no more booze. I hate that this happened and I don’t think the universe could give me a bigger sign.

Thank God it wasn’t any worse than it already is… and at least the cops were nice. It took a minute for my brother to come so I took their picture to have a memory of how fucked up this is. And my brother was very understanding and glad I was ok and gave me advice/lecture about how there are more crazies in this world than kind people like us. And it doesn’t matter if they have a Ph.D or work in a ditch that I have to believe them the first time when they act like a dick. Have zero tolerance for bad behavior.

I didn’t want to tell you either, and i almost didn’t. I wish I would have stayed home but I didn’t because I am lousy for giving people the benefit of the doubt, after he apologized for the texts, I figured I was reading too much into it and it was just a date. I was going to tell him about my decision that you and I have been discussing.

I retrieved my car this morning and a little of my scruples but the rest of the day is a wash.

So, when wolfie starts up again, I will show myself this fucking photo and try to be grateful.

I have a good therapist. I see her again next Wednesday. In the meantime, I will lay low.

Thanks for reading and I am sorry too.