Day two of my self build course.
A lot less people turned up today, maybe because they didn’t like the content or decided that being drunk or stoned was preferable. I suppose I’ll find out if they reappear tomorrow.
The second day was more cordial. Lots more chatter on smoke breaks, and opportunities for those involved to connect and say that they had felt something similar.
We had begun to decide whether or not we liked each other.
I shared today in the group that I had gone home yesterday and felt overwhelming anger. Others had had different reactions – mostly those seemed to be interest in the layers of their personality that had been explained in a new way, which had offered many food for thought.
I think I was completely alone in feeling angry and it made me examine why I felt like that. What had triggered it? Nothing bad had happened.
One of my fellow attendees suggested that if emotion had been suppressed for a long time it built up a surplus inside us, and that we all needed to feel our quota of various aspects of ourselves.
They may have a point. If they do this is certainly true of crying. I’ve never done it much in the past and one of the things I have struggled with recently is sudden and unexpected tears.
They seem to come without warning (it was worse when I was drunk – they refused to stop) and I’m becoming very wary of sad news items on TV and radio.
Videos of puppies are totally off limits, and sad songs are pretty much banned in my house.
Still tears seem to find their way to the surface though, so maybe last night was the turn instead of all the anger I have not allowed myself to feel about a variety of things…
One thing that I vocalised for the first time today though (both internally and out loud) and that is the physical sensation I experience when I want to drink.
It’s like a warm burst of emotion in my chest and it briefly makes my neck and cheeks tingle.
It’s a response to heightened emotion and it’s not dependant on feeling happy or sad, it’s only concerned with intensity.
I feel this a lot, but never really paid much attention to why, or what it preceded. The move from this sensation to my next actions and thoughts was so quick and well rehearsed that I’d learned to ignore it altogether and not acknowledge it existed.
If I was at work this would be the precursor to me mentally planning what I would drink, whether I had it in stock, and if not where I needed to go to get it. If I was with a friend this would sometimes mean I excused myself, and began my evening’s mission.
I spent so long planning how I was going to accomplish the task at hand I never once focused on the physical sensation that caused the accompanying actions.
So that’s something new and interesting. Today I uncovered another piece of the puzzle.
I’m scared rather than angry at the moment. I’ve been good before and then convinced myself I’m not worth it and that I’m going to die young anyway.
How I’m going to prevent this in the future terrifies me. I honestly feel that I’m near my last chance in many respects, and when I saw a poster in the hall during a coffee break that said ‘relapse is a natural part of recovery’ all of the blood drained from my head in panic.
Surely not. It couldn’t be. I don’t want it to happen again. I feel it would be the beginning of the end for me.
But I guess that’s not the message. Now I’m rationally examining it I think it means that if we fail we shouldn’t hate ourselves and throw coal on the fires of regret and guilt. We’re all fallible and we’re just doing the best we can.
Now I want to cry again. It’s not good because I’m typing this on my phone in the pub. There’s music playing in the background ‘The best that you can do’ by Christopher Cross.
It’s ironic considering that it’s the theme from Arthur – a film about a loveable alcoholic (not to imply I’m loveable).
Maybe the universe is talking to me again.
Thankfully lunch has arrived. It’s not peas but it is comfort food. At least if I’m crying while I eat it I can blame it on the chilli con carne.
Peace and chips world. Time to eat and make my way home.