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For a couple hours every day these days, I become a touchy, bitter asshole. It's been like this since just before this summer. And you know what? I don't like it. No sir, I don't like it. Not one bit.
There have been brief times when I've just locked myself in the bathroom and gripped my chest, as if everything inside there was tightening and swelling all at once. I don't feel like lashing out or hitting anything; no, it's all internal and horrible. I've gotten much better in the past few months, but ever since two weeks ago... I've gotten worse. Misty is the obvious credit, but other factors certainly include money stress, lack of sleep, and a daily crash from lack of blood sugar around the hours of 5-9pm.
But of course I think it's safe to say the root of it all is father stuff. And I have been putting off and putting off going to Al-Anon for months. I tried a few weeks back, but felt so uncomfortable in this huge room of strangers 40 years and older that I never went back. So of course the obvious has been happening. Yet I didn't want to do, fought against going back even. I don't know why exactly. I just didn't want to face the problems. Just as I didn't want to face Misty in any other way than in the Hefner Monologues, and even that I've been avoiding. If I don't see it, it can't hurt me.
Today, I had a choice- go home from work and be grouchy, stressed as all fuck, and utterly miserable, ready to lash out at everyone there... or track down am Al-Anon meeting pronto and go to that instead, as tired as I was. I opted for the latter, and it's about bloody time. This meeting in Rockville was a tiny bit smaller, the group no less aged but better humored, and I was slightly more comfortable here. Then we got to talking about topics. And what a day I chose.
Because today was the 9th step. The dreaded step. "Make amends to all those we have harmed, except when to do so would injure them or others." Boy oh boy does everybody hate this step.
( Read more... )
There have been brief times when I've just locked myself in the bathroom and gripped my chest, as if everything inside there was tightening and swelling all at once. I don't feel like lashing out or hitting anything; no, it's all internal and horrible. I've gotten much better in the past few months, but ever since two weeks ago... I've gotten worse. Misty is the obvious credit, but other factors certainly include money stress, lack of sleep, and a daily crash from lack of blood sugar around the hours of 5-9pm.
But of course I think it's safe to say the root of it all is father stuff. And I have been putting off and putting off going to Al-Anon for months. I tried a few weeks back, but felt so uncomfortable in this huge room of strangers 40 years and older that I never went back. So of course the obvious has been happening. Yet I didn't want to do, fought against going back even. I don't know why exactly. I just didn't want to face the problems. Just as I didn't want to face Misty in any other way than in the Hefner Monologues, and even that I've been avoiding. If I don't see it, it can't hurt me.
Today, I had a choice- go home from work and be grouchy, stressed as all fuck, and utterly miserable, ready to lash out at everyone there... or track down am Al-Anon meeting pronto and go to that instead, as tired as I was. I opted for the latter, and it's about bloody time. This meeting in Rockville was a tiny bit smaller, the group no less aged but better humored, and I was slightly more comfortable here. Then we got to talking about topics. And what a day I chose.
Because today was the 9th step. The dreaded step. "Make amends to all those we have harmed, except when to do so would injure them or others." Boy oh boy does everybody hate this step.
( Read more... )
