Expectations

My sponsor keeps telling me not to have expectations of people.

Sometimes this makes complete sense to me... after all, having disappointed expectations is the quickest way to a "resentment" for me, and resentments are the quickest path to a drink.

On the other hand, sometimes this idea completely baffles me. If I don't have expectations of people, how can I trust anyone? How can I demand the treatment I (want? deserve?) in relationships? Shouldn't I be able to have reasonable expectations of my friends and loved ones?

"Yes," Cherubino said when I put the question to her. "But if the person can not or will not meet those expectations, you need to make a decision about whether or not to stay engaged in the relationship. And if you decide to stay, then you have to accept that person on their terms."

I said "okay" when she told this to me. But all I could think was "does it really have to come down to that every single time?" Either I accept the disappointment of my expectations or the friendship/relationship must be dissolved? Somehow that seems a little viciously Darwinian to me.

I have had friends disappoint my expectations many times (or I have failed to meet theirs), and I have gone on to have changed expectations of those people and to redefine the relationships. But those "redefinitions" usually came out of a lot of discussion and explanation and compromise. Such has been the case with GoldenFinch, with B, with VJ, with Anxious, with NDN... I think it's a healthy part of a long term friendship as people grow and as lives change. But Cherubino seemed to be telling me to hold the discussion and just make the adjustment on my own. And that's hard for me to sit with.

Anyway, that's what's been on my mind for the past two days (at least in part) and that's what I woke up with this morning.

In other news, I'm definitely depressed. I think that most of it is post-surgery depression and some of it is end-of-summer fatigue. I've decided to day-count my time post surgery and try not to evaluate things too much until I get to 90. I'm only on day 19. If I had evaluated my sobriety at 19 days out, there's no way I'd still be sober... So, as usual, a little more patience is needed. Patience is something I struggle with.

Last night I had a really strange dream about a boy I went to high school with. He was incredibly smart and talented and I was a little envious of him because he read philosophy just a little before I did and therefore always seemed to have some sophisticated store of knowledge and I couldn't figure out where it came from. Anyway, in my dream, he was at my parents house and my mom was giving him some sort of life advice. Later, he and I were in a car and he was telling me that he was working on a dissertation in history too-- a demographic study of the peasants who joined Al Qaeda. (Don't know where that came from, except for the fact that the sociology student I hung out with last week was studying populist peasant movements.) In my dream, this guy, JV, told me that he was struggling because he found himself applying Marxist theory and he knew it was outdated. I told him that B was writing on a Marxist theorist. Later, the discussion turned to my incompletes. JV asked why I had so many.

"Can you keep a secret?" I asked.

"Um, sure..."

I told him that I am an alcoholic. I told him about the problems I had with coke. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regret it. And after a few more minutes of dream-discussion, I woke up feeling unsettled. My mouth was dry.

I keep having a day-dream too. (If it's a day-dream, does that make it a fantasy? I hope not...). In my day-dream Narc calls me to come meet him, but he's drunk. I go down there and he punches me in the stomach and my post-surgery stomach ruptures. Isn't that sick? That a piece of me is actually afraid of that happening. It really bothers me that in a corner of my mind it's a real fear... a quasi-realistic fear. That's really fucked up. It makes it harder for me to negate my past with him, something I usually have no problem doing.

I have plans to hang out with Pixie this afternoon. She is such an awesome girl. She's one of the handful of women I'm becoming pretty close with in AA. She dragged me out to meetings on Friday and then again last night (as like I've said, I've been too depressed to have enough self-motivation) and each time I saw her we laughed and laughed. She is a poetic person-- someone who struggles with life's questions in a way that's very similar to my own struggle. We ask the same questions, I guess... And I've been feeling closer to StarGazer too, which is nice.

Anyway, I heard a funny expression at the meeting last night. One guy who shared called himself an "Action Hero." It stuck with me because I've been having so much trouble structuring and motivating this week. Given my nature, taking action and doing the work of life is pretty heroic. And it's not easy. But I want to do it. I don't want to give in to malaise and stupor.

Last night the phone rang after midnight. I had just shut my light, grateful to be relieved of my "action hero" duties, justified to lay there in the darkness. I expected it to be Narc. It wasn't. It was the Stallion! I haven't heard from him in months... maybe more than six months. He's still living in Portland with his (girlfriend? wife?) and baby boy.

"Did I wake you?" he asked.

"Well, no, but I was about to fall asleep."

He said he would call back the next day.

It's gray outside again today... a gray that I'm grateful for in late August. I'm hoping to escape the summer without another truly summery day.

Anyway, that's it for now. It's only 8:00 AM and I'm not sure why I'm awake, given that my only responsibilities for the day are to buy a pair of earrings for LilSis' wedding and to meet Pixie at noon.

Well, happy Monday to all!

love,
h