First sober weekend. I’m just out for a walk sipping a coffee. Thinking. Which is bad. When an athlete is injured the best thing they can do is stop thinking about their sport, recovery is their sport now. Don’t think about getting better to play baseball, think about getting better. Don’t think about your swing when you need to be thinking about your knee. You get what I’m saying.
I was thinking about the making amends portion of the 12 steps and thought about Biz. I thought I should call her and tell her I’m sober and she probably be happy and a bit proud.
And then I thought there I go again, needing approval and affection. And pinning my self-worth and motivation to that.
So naturally my next thought was: I’m broken, it’s too late, life is meaningless because no one will ever love me the way I need, I’ll always be emotionally starving, I shouldn’t have broken up the band, I’m ugly naked, etc, etc.
I was journaling a bit last night about how I need to be in denial right now. Every time my mind goes to the dark places I need to just block it out and remind myself to keep avoiding dairy. My life story isn’t my game right now, getting healthy is all I’m allowed myself care about for 5 more weeks.
But since I’m thinking about it and I need to externalize everything to prevent my mind from looping and obsessing I’ll write a touch more on Biz. Basically what I’d say if I called her. Which I can’t because that would be making my problems hers again. She doesn’t read this, as far as I know.
ANYWAY… I realize my relationship with my little sister is the first one I killed with neediness. When she was young she looked up to me and it made me feel important which made me a better person. Not great or anything I was still a teen but it made me consider my effect on people and made me aspire to do good. To be good. Then she grew up and stopped idolizing me. And all I wanted was that unconditional acceptance back. I didn’t give any thought to Elizabeth as a whole person with a life of her own I just knew that I used to feel good and now I didn’t.
I tried being cooler to win her admiration back and rushed to share it with her whenever I did something that could that reinforce my image of myself in her eyes. Then of course there would be a little wake of feeling good that would of course fade. And whenever she wasn’t sufficiently impressed or she was just busy or whatever I hurt and I blamed her for that hurt.
I didn’t know at the time that’s what was happening, this is all self-awareness in retrospect.
I started behaving abysmally around her and especially around her friends because I had all these fucked up feelings of rejection and dismissal.
And because this is a sobriety blog I have to say that pouring booze on that was a major problem. Much more so than I could ever realize until now. I thought because the feelings were real the fact that came out when I was drinking was irrelevant. In fact I thought it was better because I wasn’t burying them. Now, again with embarrassed hindsight, I can see there was probably a healthy, dignified way to deal with those feelings that didn’t involve repression but I didn’t go that way.
I went the self-destructive route because I’ve ingrained this idea that if I can broadcast how much other people’s behavior, or responses to my behavior, is causing me pain then they’ll change.
That and sometimes I actually want to just destroy myself.
Often because I’m the sort of person who does things like that and it’s a terrible spiral blah blah suicide blah blah you know.
ANYWAY AGAIN… back on topic. I see that Biz was the first time I broke a social tie, isolated myself in shame, and chose to get worse instead of better.
I’ve talked about the Biz thing in the passed and people always said I should reach out and apologize and blah blah blah. And I always tried to explain that I couldn’t because I hadn’t changed. If I asked her to forgive me without me having fixed my problems then I’d just be setting up another cycle. I thought at the time it was a sort of fuck up’s nobility. I could keep going off the rails and as long as I sacrificed my relationship with my sister for her sake I could feel I was still a good man deep down.
I only see that now because when things were really bad at the end of October I wasn’t talking to anyone but Mandi because she already knew the whole story I didn’t want to hear myself explain to anyone else how bad I’d gotten. I’d just hang out at the bar or at Red’s house where no one asks why I’m getting so fucked up.
Luckily I have a dramatic sense of the macabre and I consciously made the rounds of hanging out with people so they’d have a last time to remember. When I’m planning to kill myself I love to drop hints people will only realize were hints after the fact. It’s fucked up but its kinda the only fun I have during episodes like that.
It never occurred to me to talk to Biz. There isn’t even enough of a connection there for me to have thought about saying my fucked up type of good bye. And besides I was way worse off than when her and I cut ties and I’d be way to ashamed to make contact. Maybe in the future I’ll be in a place where I feel it’s safe, for her and for me, to reach out but like I said – I don’t think about the future now, that’s where the cliff is.