Day…Month 9 and change.
I’d be lying if I said I had my sh*t together right now. My emotions in the past 48 hours have ranged from hysterical laughter, hysterical crying, extreme sadness, lethargy, mundaneness, rage, contempt, contented, fatigued, and spasmodic…and this is me on a mood stabilizer. The posts I started to write but deleted with fury were just as disorderly. This has been going on for two days.
Yesterday my attention was focused on researching the tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I intended to relay a scholarly, articulate interpretation of my past drunk version of Hyde, and the present sober Hyde in me who is still very alive. I thought that’d be a good time to write about how I was threatening to sue IKEA for a dresser I built incorrectly, but that was a dud, too.
(This is how I look right now)
I confessed my writer’s block (more like writer’s spaz) to a friend. Together we tried to generate metaphors on life and frozen yogurt. This is what we came up with:
-Today is like a gummy bear…transparent and sticky.
-My mind is like a clogged frozen yogurt dispenser.
-My ideas are the crumbs that everyone drops because those stupid spoons are too shallow.
-My fingers are like gummy worms.
-Frozen yogurt is like a blank canvas. The toppings mean so and so…
So far nothing has been able to reassemble my discombobulated thoughts. I feel like the creativity portion of my brain is Humpty Dumpty; in pieces and can’t be put together again.
(sorry to be so graphic)
I even tried to provoke my archenemy for material, but the fight didn’t progress much past, “fuck this guy,” and something about grudges in small huts. I guess writing about disdain isn’t exactly a sober topic anyway.
The worst part about this shit-show is that the problem is obvious and the solution is one step away. My pal “Dan” said he was a crazy person during Steps 6 & 7, and now I understand why. In Step 6 I came to terms with the defects of character I’d like to be removed, but they’re still there because I’ve been unwilling to get rid of them. After being in limbo for 3 weeks I finally willingly read Step 7. It was an extreme ah-hah-clarity moment. Hey look I’m actually writing about something.
“Our crippling handicap had been our lack of humility.”
Humility as I understand it is: “not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.”
My lack of humility explains this neurotic scatterbrain state I’m in. My actions inside the AA room have been “A” material but outside, getting an “F.” Road raging, threatening to sue IKEA over a dresser, buying things I don’t need, and thinking of myself are traits I’ve been working to eradicate, not enhance.
“Instead of regarding the satisfaction of our material desires as the means by which we could live and function as human beings, we had taken these satisfactions to be the final end and aim of life.”
I live in a town where material possessions prevail, and my insecurities make it real easy to forget that they don’t matter. Standing in line at Starbucks sometimes makes me feel like I’m the only person at a fashion show wearing jeans and flip-flops.
What I’ve forgotten in between Step 6 and 7 is that my confidence and happiness aren’t going to come from acting more selfish, less grateful, and insanely insecure. I forgot to remember that I have to work at this everyday, because one bad mood makes me behave like I’m being victimized by the world. Self-centered fears starts running my show and I start losing it, in more ways than one.
(victimizing as usual)
So I guess if I was to compare myself to frozen yogurt right now…kidding, totally kidding. I’ll keep coming.