Sobriety date: some day last week. Yesterday. I don’t know.
I started recovery last year around the end of summer and I haven’t made it past three weeks. Once.
I want to confess some things. Hopefully gain some clarity, or catharsis, out of doing it.
Ahem.
I like to hide. I’m a very private person. I tend to be analytical, a know it all. I’m either in paranoid suspicion of everyone around me or opening up way past both of our comfort zones. I’m obsessed with how people perceive me. When it comes to me, I need to be the one in control of the conversation. You can have input, but I’m the one who decides if it’s worth considering seriously. I don’t care how sober you are, do you make sense? Are you cooler than me? It has to make sense, it has to feel genuine, and if I disagree I probably won’t say anything.
You can imagine what a treat I am to sponsor.
I hate the SA program. Not because it doesn’t work, but because it puts me in a position to be judged. Has anyone judged me wrongly? No. Not really. I was sure it would happen at least once, but it’s all been spot on. As someone who spends a lot of time judging myself, it’s hard to accept someone could do a better job than me. Ridiculous.
another thing. I’ve never paid for sex, never physically cheated. Never lost a job over porn or missed an important deadline. Didn’t even mess around with my high school girlfriends, and I had opportunities. Curse my fundamentalist Christian upbringing. My average slip is 10 to 15 minutes long. And I have to sit there and listen to someone who was ten times worse than me tell me to make amends to my imaginary friend I supposedly hurt because I can’t stop jerking off a couple times a week. Interesting.
not that I even listen. most of these complaints are imaginary. 99% of these scenarios play out in my head right before I rationalize skipping a meeting. my addiction is killing my marriage. my business is a quarter of what it could be, maybe less. I’ve been emotionally stunted since adolescence and I’m only starting to see the damage.
my sponsor is frustratingly nice. I want him to tell me what to do. I want him to critique my work instead of just accepting it and moving on. I want him to check in when I haven’t reached out in a week. but he wants me to want it. I get it.
my last sponsor was perfect too. only worked with him a month before he relapsed. I think he was great anyway.
one more thing. My wife caught me the other day. Lingerie ads. I’m not sure if I would rather it had been a prostitute instead. I’m so embarrassed.
26 years old. At least two days sober. Trusting God with the next 24 hours.
lord, help.