By Laura L.
I don’t know what I might accomplish by doing this, maybe I will get lucky and help myself, as well as someone else.
As some of the folks who have been on here know, I have been going through a very difficult time. The die has been cast, and I will be getting a divorce from my husband, F., when the law allows it. In NC, that means one year of separation. I am as OK with the breakup of my marriage as I suppose anyone can be.
In the meantime, having moved out on my own, I have been sampling the many delights that an Army base full of horny young GIs has to offer. Of all things, I actually developed a crush on a fellow, who has summarily dumped me; I found this out today. He is “so sorry” and “really likes me” and all that other bullshit that people say to ease their own consciences.
In the meantime, I have developed yet another lump in my breast (third one in 18 months) but the doc is hanging back on doing any more “invasive” stuff. Probably just a fibroid anyway.
Add to this the pressure of a job that has just about put me over the edge. As someone who is used to working in the private sector, my experience with local government can only be likened to a pain tolerance test. In the Army, this is called “failure to adapt.”
I have failed to adapt, and that may be the only source of pride that I currently have. I have cried, off and on since 10AM today; I actually had to leave my office because of uncontrollable crying. A wonderful thing for all the new employees there for orientation to see! In fact, I have started crying again just thinking about all this shit. How do small children do this without going insane?
At any rate, with the recent discussion on suicide, I wanted to add my own two cents worth. Although the idea is tempting, I am simply too pissed off to let anybody off the hook.
As far as drinking goes, the facts are as such: I am at the lowest point that I have been since I stopped drinking. I really am. I know it, and I am scared. But the thing that I am scared of is not so much taking a drink or using, it is that I feel that it may be necessary, if this gets worse, to go into some kind of in-patient psychiatric facility. But I will do that, and without hesitation, if I feel my sobriety is threatened.
My psychiatrist is aware of all this, and has been really good about not suggesting fast-acting sedatives or anything that might “wake up” my lizard brain.
The bottom line is this: my life sucks and is presently in a complete f**king shambles. But I am not going to drink “at” it, over it, or try to drink my way “around” it. This is big stuff going on, and I am going to need to have my wits about me to get through all this. I am angry, frightened, sad, horny, pissed off and I can’t sleep worth a “dayum.” Hell, at least I’m not bored! And feeling all this stuff just absolutely beats the hell out of feeling…. nothing … numb … drunk.
Fondest regards to all.
Posted 8 Jul 1998