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"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing" – Benjamin Franklin

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The tightness in my chest seems to get worst as the day drags on. I wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweats. My bed soaking wet. Its absolutely disgusting. I’ll randomly start shaking like a leaf and then I’ll suddenly have to excuse myself to quietly vomit. I try and be discrete. I try to go unnoticed. I try not to make a big deal   everyone needs to know what this little blue pill called valium can do to you. After years of use. And prescription use might I add, will do to you. And its not just physical either. Its my mind too. I made coffee the other day without the coffee or the coffee pot under it, I’ve lost my keys in my house twice….and I’m SOBER. This isn’t supposed to happen or so I thought. I thought my mind would just go back to the way it used to be and I would magically be able to balance equations again and write a novel tomorrow. NOPE. Thats not how sobriety works. First you must feel all the pain you have numbed for so long and that must be felt in order for you to feel joy again. All the joy you have missed out on. Not only was I numbing the pain but I was also numbing all the joy in my life. The joy I could have shared with people like Professor Lupin. My favorite dark arts teacher EVER. No one will ever ever compare to him. Those will be some large shoes to fill.

Right now I’m sitting at a bar using WiFi to write this. Its SATURDAY night and PACKED. I got approached about this blog actually and its super exciting. Its funny how you can make connections and actually remember things when you’re sober. You don’t forget PEOPLE. You may forget where you sat your freakin keys but you don’t forget a face you once saw in a bar 6 years ago and then properly introduce yourself to them. Its a beautiful thing. A very beautiful thing. I often wonder how it looks to be sober and at a bar. What do people think. I’m feeling better writing though. I’m feeling better getting out of my head and putting it on a nice shiny computer screen. Me and a buddy at the bar. A non sober buddy both have our shoes off and are grounding. We are no shoe buddies. Its super cool. I have drunk friends. Actually its not funny, I wish I could save them all. I wish I could shout from this table “NO, do you not realize what you are doing?! Do you really NEED that shot? Do you REALLY want to be THAT drunk girl?! Do you REALLY want to be that ass hole? Do you want to wake up in a strangers bed smelling of alcohol and bad decisions? Do you want to risk that DUI? Do you want to vomit all over yourself before you even get home? Do you want to hit a mail box and mess your car up. Do you want to risk your LIFE. Over getting shitfaced?!” I have been all of these.  These are all grown ass adults. With jobs and duties and responsibilities who either find a way to manage life or they don’t. Some do and some don’t. Its the sad reality of it and I can’t save them even if I wanted to. I just can’t. Nor is my place to do so. All I can do is pray. Pray pray pray pray pray and pray. I want my friends to succeed but not all of them will. I want all of these people here to succeed but not all of them will. NOT all of them have the capacity to. And hell I may not either, sober. Who knows. I just undercut a guy who hurt me, and for what reason. To make myself feel better. The disease is still very much a part of who I am and I have to ask for forgiveness and resolution all the time. I have to take personal inventory every day and its not fun guys. At all. Sometimes I look at myself and am like why the hell did you do that. What greater purpose did it serve. Like a wise drunk person just said I don’t get to wake up and remember it and feel guilty about it, I feel guilty about it now. I said something I shouldn’t have said and hurt a guys feelings. Was I being honest in what I said. Yes. Yes I was but it wasn’t nice. At all. I have to ask myself all the time if the the words that came out of my mouth were nice. If not you need to ask them and God for forgiveness. You need to do better. Add the stress of that on top of withdraws and I’m a mess. I can’t be perfect. I never will be. And right now I think I expect too much of myself. Let me tell you what I’m currently withdrawing from. So four years ago I tried every non narcotic medication for anxiety out there. Nothing touched my anxiety. I said “I give up, give me benzos.” (side note just talking about the “blue” pills makes me nauseas and want to vomit. Its awful) I got prescribe 10mg 3x a day of valium and Xanax 5mg PRN. For THREE years. I went inpatient to La Amistad in Orlando FL for 3 weeks and they took my dose down and so when I got out I went down to 20mg twice a day and no Xanax. That, that was my first taste of withdraws. It was awful. And I still had the medication. That little blue pill that I have grown to loathe so very much. The pill that makes me want to vomit. Thank makes me shake like a 90 year old woman. That randomly makes me spew insults to others. I shouldn’t be allowed in public sometimes. I really hate this but its my penitence for the crime of giving up on myself and the coping skills I should have been using the whole time. I’m about to sing some Karaoke with my wise friend and go home soberly and NOT wake up with a hangover and go to church in the morning. Stay sober friends. Don’t be THAT girl, or THAT guy. Don’t be me.

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