Fuck. For the second time in 2 weeks, abusive ex was on MY train platform. Normally I would take this time to focus on abdominal breathing, quieting my shaking hands, and not shitting my pants, but I only have the duration of this train ride to post. So I if show up to work trembling and with shit dribbling down my leg, MWO will be to blame.
Deep breaths.
Ok. What you were saying about your new house really resonated with me, Ne. I've been going through a slow motion breakdown of my own (as opposed to the crash and burn breakdown I'd have if drinking) that came to a head the other day when our landlord called to ask would we be moving in August and can she start showing the place. Later that night, I stuck my head out our backdooor as an el train was passing on the nearby tracks. It seemed close enough to touch, and I thought, Look at all that HUMANITY! All those people so close! On my way home from the gym yesterday (which is half a block away) I passed the Armenian jeweler who fixes my watch for free and always tries to get me to take shots of vodka with him. I passed the Korean tailor who helped me reline the coat I gave my sister. The Mexicans that own the liquor store who congratulated me on my sobriety and gave me my V8 for free. I feel surrounded by people here. I feel like I could reach out and scoop them up.
By contrast, my family's house where I intend to move is surrounded by 20 acres of land. Their driveway is a half mile long. The nearest store is a 10 minute drive away and is full of chubby white people who all look related. I'm scared at night by myself in that house. Much more scared than I would be on the streets on Chicago. It's just so...quiet. You feel so alone. It's also the "scene of the crime" as far as my mental illness and substance abuse goes. This was the house where I was first swallowed by darkness, where reality started not to feel real. And where I first learned to grab a bottle, a pill, a razor, anything to push the edges of the darkness back.
Ok, now I'm getting silly, but what I meant to say was I get it. I understand what it's like to be afraid of being isolated. I understand what it's like to be haunted by a former incarnation of yourself.
I'm glad it sounds like you're warming up to the idea of your new place. I'm sure it'll be awesome, if something of an adjustment. A new way to further push yourself and grow, right? Hopefully, I'll experience a simillar change in attitude soon, though there's other issues at play for me, like what's going to happen with my current relationship (damn, I love him. And damn, does he love vodka.)
Got more to say, but I'm outside work. Pants feeling shit-free, I might add.
As far as Trotter goes...you should move on Grant Achatz. Good looking young chef who overcame tongue cancer at the height of his career to open the best (read: expensive) restaurants in the city right now.
And while feeling jealous last night of a young, hip couple drinking copius amounts of booze, I imagined them talking at an AA meeting years from now. It was very theraputic.
Thinking of you! Hugs!
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