"Fading Everything to Black and Blue"

I haven't been blogging as much because I'm very depressed and very busy.

Mystic asks how I've been feeling physically coming up on a year sober... Well, the answer is "better" in a lot of ways, but also worse in a lot of ways, and that's what has gotten me so depressed. I have had a lot of problems with my blood sugar and hormone cycles lately and I've also put on a lot of weight in sobriety. I don't really think the blog is a place in which I'd like to go into the details of my medical situation, but suffice it to say, there are a slew of problems to be solved which have strangely gotten worse with sobriety. I went to the doctor on Thursday afternoon (and they took ten vials of blood from me!!!) and the answers I was looking for were not to be found. I think it yanked me out of denial and put these medical problems into the forefront for me. And then there's that insidious voice telling me that I was "happier" when I was drinking, even though I know that's bullshit.

What can I say? I think I'm just having anniversary jitters. And I miss Narc. And I'm physically out of whack and all of it's causing depression.

What did I do this weekend? On Friday I saw Blades of Glory with B, which was certainly good for a laugh. Later that night, I went out with StarGazer to a birthday dinner at Eatery. It was her friend's birthday. There were three other girls there-- all in their late 20's, all single, all dressed in some cute little "New York-ish" outfit, all thinking they were Carrie Bradshaw or one of the clan. Afterwards, StarGazer and I went to Don't Tell Mama's where PonyTailBoy was performing a "James Bond Cabaret." Don't even ask... it was a strange night. I didn't get home from that until nearly 1:00 AM.

On Saturday, I was stuck in bed depressed for a chunk of the day. I did take the time to call a few newcomers though, and it helped. Then Meema called. She was having a fight with her husband and needed to buy shoes. I am the farthest thing from a "shoe girl" (if I had my choice, I'd be in sneakers with everything), but I agreed to meet her at Aldo on 42nd street. She was there when I got there, strutting around the store in a variety of spiked silver heels. She ended up buying nothing but a little clutch purse. I walked away with a pair of espadrilles.

Later in the afternoon, as I limpidly cleaned off my kitchen counter, NDN sat on my kitchen stool and chatted me up. He had a present for me and a present for Mr. Rochester-- a little yellow chick! Mr. Rochester was very appreciative and rubbed up against NDN's feet.

That night, my home group was hosting a "sober dance." I really, really, REALLY didn't want to go. The only problem? I had already agreed to do service there. So, I was stuck. I was so depressed though, that it took absolutely every ounce of will power I had to get me there. As I approached, I called my mom nearly in tears, telling her I didn't want to go in.

"You have three choices, sweetie," she said. "You can go home and say 'screw the commitment;' you can wait until 10:00 PM when your service commitment starts and leave as soon as it's done; or you can go in right now and trust that your friends are in there and that you'll be okay."


Suffice it to say, I went in. It was okay, but I was happy to get out of there at 11:00. There's probably a lot more I could say about that strange, strange party, but I just don't have it in me right now. I didn't like being in a dimly lit room with throbbing techno music. It was triggering my clubbing memories.

On Sunday morning, I went to watch B get confirmed into the Anglican Church. Drippy was somewhere at the service too, but I didn't see her when I came in. So, I went up to the choir loft to watch the service where I could discreetly write in my journal. I was missing Narc and remembering him and feeling miserable and trying to feel grateful for life and for my life in particular... trying to shut up the suicidal voices which seemed to have returned with a vengeance this week. Here's what I wrote...

I am here, in the left-hand loft of St. Bartholomew's, watching B get confirmed. In the light of this blue-- the roundness... the majesty, I am grateful, but I am also sad. And I'm not sure whether to applaud or berate my heart for its capacity to grieve.

I think of him... His perfect hands, rounded fingernails, tearing cuticles. His posture... arching back. His wrists. I miss him. I miss him desperately and I must continue to tell myself that this is his choice... that this is what he wants. And I can't control everything, nor do I know everything. And then I remember my cheek against his chest. And I can't breathe.

B just got up from his seat and walked to the back of the church. Probably to find Drippy...

My back aches and eyes sting. I am shallow today-- perhaps barred from the darkness to which I'm drawn... descending.

So instead, I "offer myself in obedience to His will"-- to stay shallow, focused, present, "in the moment."

I remember watching him sleep... And Brick too. I won't understand why they both wanted this loss. Not ever.

I must remind myself that I am POWERLESS over others. And it is not my place to understand others.

O Lamb of God
that takest away the sins of the world
have mercy up on us.... The William Walton setting.

O Lamb of God
that takest away the sins of the world,
grant us peace.

Little Lamb, who made thee? William Blake and John Tavener.

I am watching the choir-- rounding their sounds. Shaping sounds with lips (the breath of life). Dissonance. He used to rub his stomach. He probably still does. Thin black cotton. The thickness of his toes through his socks. The mold on the ceiling above the shower. All of it perfect.

And I suppose I should thank God for the gift of love. And I suppose that I should thank God for memory. My heart's capacity is grace alone. I found others-- many others-- who struggle for the same. Love is not a right. Love is a gift.

I DID love him and I DO. And maybe it's not sad that I do...that I always will. Maybe it's a miracle. I don't want to get angry.

Watching the congregation below, they move in a strange and solemn dance... shuffling... one here... two there... These communion rites are almost unthought of. It makes me wonder about the "natural."

"Go. With gladness and singleness of heart," he just said.

Okay... the service ended quickly. Caught me by surprise. So I have to go find B and Drippy for lunch. And perhaps with Hammer to see the cherry blossoms later...

love,
h

And that was that...

Lunch with B and Drippy wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. When I first greeted them and asked "how they are," B shot her a look as if to say "you better be nice, like I told you to!" It was weird...

We walked over to the Heartland Brewery at Times Square for lunch. A strange choice, if you ask me, but they wanted to check it out as a possible locale for their rehearsal dinner. Lunch was nice... Drippy was excited to see Roger Federer on the TV screen above the bar area. I ate a buffalo chicken salad. From there, I headed to meet Hammer for the Cherry Blossom Festival at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.

Hammer was having one of those days in which nothing was working out according to plan. The Festival was no different. There were throngs of people there. It was really quite annoying. As we're both grad students, Sunday isn't our only day for leisure and I forget that most of the general public has to limit their blossom-reveling to the weekends. After a 45 minute wait on line for the bathroom, we agreed to return to the gardens on Wednesday for a more peaceful chance to take it all in.

I ended the night with an AA meeting, grading papers and a few phone calls in bed-- a long talk with StarGazer and then a long chat with Liu! It was long overdue. I ended up pouring out a lot to her in terms of my depression, etc. and it felt really good to have the ear of an old friend.

Anyway, that's it for now. I just finished teaching for the morning. I'm going to go home and shower and then do some paperwork for school and do a little work on my Fourth Step. Still charging ahead with that one.

One day at a time, Hyde... One day at a time!

love,
h