Giving up....in a good way!
225 and no sleep is not treating my brain well, so this will be pretty garbled, plus I'm clearly the wrong person to be jumping in on this topic, plus it sounds like you're feeling better anyway, but here goes:
Life is just screwy. Sometimes more so and sometimes less so. Sometimes directly related to stuff we did or should do or have control over, and more often not it's completely random. Point is, it is a test, but it's a very poorly designed test. Not in the way we're thinking, but in the actual school-sense of designing a good test. This one sucks because there's no way to arrive at a correct answer, you can only respond to it.
As far as posting someone's anxiety meltdown/cry for attention, whether he was just looking for a reaction or really thinking about giving up, both of those reasons are pretty much not what we want to do. And it's just as important to every once in a while be warned, or reminded, of what not to do as it is to be inspired by the, um, huge success of others like the Olympic rowing team.
There's answers that fit into a picture we'd like for ourselves and there are answers that don't. But there's simply no right answer. I do think sometimes crawling into a bottle is the answer, because hey sh-t's f--cked up and there's nothing you can do. But mostly for us that's not a short-term response, right?
A couple days out of the hospital a friend of mine passed away in an accident. He'd been sober like 18 years, and was the sober person I wanted to be if I had to be sober. AL didn't phase him, he went to hang out with his wife and us at the bars, drank his diet coke, and seemed to really enjoy it, even if we were all getting shnockered. Then one winter day he's walking his dogs, one of them gets away and he tries to get it off a frozen pond and he falls through. I was still in physical withdrawal, had just gone to AA for the first time the day before, and there looked like no Goddamned point to anything in the whole world. If you can get clean for that long, and then for some random assed thing like that to happen, why bother?
But going back to a bottle that night would have meant I'd never get clean. I wouldn't be sad for a while, and down on life for a while, and then figure things out from there after I'd kind of let some stuff out mentally/emotionally. Nope, because my disease would not have let me go after a few days/week/weeks.
Argh. Again, garbled and not really even on topic anymore. I'm glad the moment has passed, Taw, and glad you are feeling better. You got this.
225 and no sleep is not treating my brain well, so this will be pretty garbled, plus I'm clearly the wrong person to be jumping in on this topic, plus it sounds like you're feeling better anyway, but here goes:
Life is just screwy. Sometimes more so and sometimes less so. Sometimes directly related to stuff we did or should do or have control over, and more often not it's completely random. Point is, it is a test, but it's a very poorly designed test. Not in the way we're thinking, but in the actual school-sense of designing a good test. This one sucks because there's no way to arrive at a correct answer, you can only respond to it.
As far as posting someone's anxiety meltdown/cry for attention, whether he was just looking for a reaction or really thinking about giving up, both of those reasons are pretty much not what we want to do. And it's just as important to every once in a while be warned, or reminded, of what not to do as it is to be inspired by the, um, huge success of others like the Olympic rowing team.
There's answers that fit into a picture we'd like for ourselves and there are answers that don't. But there's simply no right answer. I do think sometimes crawling into a bottle is the answer, because hey sh-t's f--cked up and there's nothing you can do. But mostly for us that's not a short-term response, right?
A couple days out of the hospital a friend of mine passed away in an accident. He'd been sober like 18 years, and was the sober person I wanted to be if I had to be sober. AL didn't phase him, he went to hang out with his wife and us at the bars, drank his diet coke, and seemed to really enjoy it, even if we were all getting shnockered. Then one winter day he's walking his dogs, one of them gets away and he tries to get it off a frozen pond and he falls through. I was still in physical withdrawal, had just gone to AA for the first time the day before, and there looked like no Goddamned point to anything in the whole world. If you can get clean for that long, and then for some random assed thing like that to happen, why bother?
But going back to a bottle that night would have meant I'd never get clean. I wouldn't be sad for a while, and down on life for a while, and then figure things out from there after I'd kind of let some stuff out mentally/emotionally. Nope, because my disease would not have let me go after a few days/week/weeks.
Argh. Again, garbled and not really even on topic anymore. I'm glad the moment has passed, Taw, and glad you are feeling better. You got this.
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