So I had an uneasy morning around 3am. I thought one of my closest friends had passed on.
Now, I don’t know if it was a real threat or if I simply over reacted because it was 3am and my brain was on the fritz. My emotions do tend to go out of whack in the witching hours. It is when I best like to write, for the creative juices are flowing and my mind is lubricated from fatigue. Things seem to flow better then. I am an early bird, but this night, I pulled the all nighter. Which I am sure in some ways contributed to my fears.
I went on Facebook and I saw a cryptic message from his girlfriend about “The saddest day is when those that made the best memories become a memory.” Now she never posts on this particular page, like ever. I have a sad feeling in the pit of my stomach that it will be the first and last time. So, as you can imagine, that raised a few red flags for me. I immediately thought of the worst possible outcome, because that is what I do when I am sober now….I either go to grandiose outcomes or the worst.
In my mind, he was dead because some tragedy befell him over the course of the week. I got a sickening feeling recalling the fact that he said he would call Sunday and never did, hasn’t read any of my messages and hasn’t popped up on facebook in over a week or so. Now, it is not uncommon for him to disappear for long periods of time, but I at least see some remnants of his presence online.
I cried for at least 3 hours, writing, and calling with no answers. I will not contact his girlfriend for now because we are not really on friendly terms, but if I don’t hear from him in some days, I will go that far. I am worried, but relaxed now. I was super frantic this morning, but things have calmed down since I got some rest, wrote poetry and vented to friends.
It boils down to this whole ’emotions being out of whack’ thing in early recovery. I used to drink them all down, stuffing them deep within so they couldn’t see the light of day. Now that I force myself to bring them to the surface or if they are laid upon me as they were this morning, I feel them in all their raw beauty and chaos. Although some are unpleasant in the moment, I have to say that experiencing them for the first time in 12 years is a tad refreshing and dare I say, necessary for continued recovery. It’s a challenge to say the least to have to deal with them on their own terms as they swing wildly on the pendulum, without the aid of a lubricant, such as alcohol.
I am just learning the fine art of differentiating between raw and uncut emotions versus off the wall symptoms of mania or depression. Tough call sometimes. I think overall, I am handling it fairly well. This blog has helped a lot with that as it allows me to vent and let off some steam, where as before, I had no where to really turn other than to friends who have their own issues to deal with. So, I am thankful today that I can feel. I am not pickled any longer. And I have to say, that took about 3 months or so until I felt the ‘feels’.
Here is the poem that I wrote this morning while I freaked out. Even I was shocked about how much I cared for this man. It may be a bit over the top, but that gives you an idea of the state I was in at the time: Dead or Alive
Hopefully I hear from him soon! If he is alive and well, which I am now sure he is, I am going to hunt that man down and slap him sideways for not calling me.
You have to understand that death is a real threat to me these days. I know that sounds morbid, but it’s simply reality. I am being treated in an Intensive Outpatient Treatment Program for Alcohol Abuse, and the 4th client in 4 months time passed on from an overdose. So, I am on high alert these days. I went to rehab, and many didn’t make it passed the first month out of treatment, including my incredible roommate, whom I found out passed away days after I dreamt of her … and I found out through nothing other than facebook. In rehab they always reminded us to look around the room, because a good portion wouldn’t make it out alive. They said, at this point it comes down to jail, institutions or death. They were right. There were no other options if we continued on in our self-harming ways.
Not that he has issues with alcohol or anything of the sort, but the threat is very real and ever present in my life these days.