Insane&Sober

My thoughts on life, love, God, and my journey into a sober life.

[mysteriousmadamx]

My WTF Essay

I love the sound of the ocean in the dark, the only light shining dully from the stars and the moon. And his cell phone, of course. Every peaceful, romantic moment is accompanied by a an IM, a text, a photo. God, am I boring? I didn't think so. I'm pretty sure I'm nice to look at. What is going on here? Deep down, I know it isn't something in me that is lacking. I don't fall prey to pity game – I know I'm awesome. Somehow, I always end up feeling smaller than when I arrived. The only thing wrong with me in this picture is that I allow myself, 1 - To keep putting myself in situations that hurt, and 2 - to let myself be affected so much, or even at all, when I know exactly what I am walking into.

There is a serious character flaw here. I want so badly to focus on his shortcomings, to point my finger and blame my tears on his behavior, but it is my shortcomings that keep me trapped. I choose my pain. And my pleasure, as the situation would dictate. I suppose that the possibility of having him makes the rest worth it. But does it, really?

I can have my pick. I can spend my time with someone more kind, someone better looking, someone that doesn't leave me feeling broken. Yet, all I see is this man.

It's not all bad. I would hope there is something keeping me around besides my inherent need for emotional pain. I'm attracted to him, that’s for sure. My attraction is not on an emotional level, or even a physical. This has got to be chemical, some pheromone deal. My whole body goes weak even thinking about an encounter with him. When he's in the room, forget about it, I get all kinds of hot. I spend the day after reliving the experience, and I can't wait to be with him again. All of this desire seems to translate into a deep emotional attachment. The only other time I remember feeling exactly this way was in an abusive relationship. Perhaps I should pay attention to the pattern. At least now I don't blame. I am not a victim, and I own my choices.

I do have a knack for complicating a very simple situation. I am addicted to feeling, and sadness always feels more intense than happiness. I'm a dopamine junkie and the little floods I experience when he touches me, or says something kind to me are like heroin. Way down and they way up. I suffer from self diagnosed, self-induced Bi-Polar disorder! Most of humanity's problems are self made, I'm no exception.

So where do I go from here? If he wanted me, I'd be his without a second thought.

As always, reality prevails and something's got to give, eventually. When I'm ready to let him go, I will. I'm not going to make a decision based on the opinions of others, no matter ow much sense they make. I'm not going to rush out of this they way I rushed in. A little backwards, I admit. What can I say? I've always been a rebel.

Usually, I find someone else to distract me immediately. I am doing things different this time. I have never been so disinterested in men. This development is more personal growth than him, I think. I am wiling to keep my options open, but currently, there is no one and nothing I would choose over him.

And so it goes.

[mysteriousmadamx]

A Love Letter

A Love Letter

I fall in love easily, and often. I have never asked myself why, I just go with it. I allow myself to be consumed by what can, often, only be explained as a chemical reaction. A reflection of my flaws and the desperation of loneliness. I find myself here, yet again, tangled in the bondage of love. Each time more painful than the last, yet I submit fully and blindly. I have this unyielding obsession and though

there are 10 men waiting to love me, I only care about the one. Only this one can fill the emptiness, brighten the darkness.

Change is driven by pain. “When it gets bad enough”, I always say. The time has come, and now, I ask myself, “Why?”. “Why this one?”

It is you, my friend, whom I adore. It is you who fills me with the joy and despair of love. With all of my defenses withdrawn, this is the most honest 'why' I could come up with.

You are so gorgeously human. You wear you pain like a suit of armor, impenetrable. You put up fronts in the hopes that no one will see, but I see you. It is in these falsehoods that lay the most truth; there is nothing more human than fear.

I love how you look, how you smell, how you taste, the sound of your voice. I love how it feels to be close to you, to touch you and be touched by you. All of my senses are affected by you in the most intense way. Just the thought of you sends a pleasant tingle throughout my body. Often, I daydream about your hands on me. I crave you always.

I want desperately to be the cure for your loneliness, as if we could fix what is broken in each other. I am in love with every broken piece of you.

You are so perfectly flawed.

I love the way you laugh through your smile, so controlled, not letting it all go. That is the opposite of me, I let it all out as strongly as I feel it. My intensity scares you.

I love the way you poke your tongue out of your mouth when you’re turned on and curl it up over your lip. You hold that back too, but what you do let go of - is magic.

I'm afraid, sometimes that I am holding you back by not letting you go. I don't think you are ready to be let go, I know I'm not ready to. And so it goes.

[mysteriousmadamx]

When I was 12

I was one of those girls that developed early. You know the ones, that the other girls hated and the boys loved. It wasn't easy being pretty. It sounds arrogant, but it's the truth. There has always been this aura of sexuality oozing from me since I was 12 years old. Maybe even before that. My childhood memories are a jumbled mess, but at some point before 12, I got booted from daycare for showing the other girls how to masturbate. Of course, I had no idea what I was actually doing, but I liked it.

I had this best friend Jenny, ya, lets call her Jenny, from Catholic school. She had one of those mom's that let her do anything. Her mom would lie to mine, so that I could go to concerts, and generally do shit a 12 year old shouldn't be doing. Jenny and I pierced our noses with safety pins and cut our wrists together. We'd wear bandages to school like it was cool to try and commit suicide. I listened to Hole, NIN, Marilyn Manson, and the like. (The first MM album, “Portrait of an American Family”, is awesome.) When I cut myself for the first time, I was sitting in my bed in the dark listening to “Terrible Lie” by NIN. I remember being in a lot of emotional pain.

The first time I smoked pot was with Jenny. We were listening to Marilyn Manson (my life has a soundtrack). Having no pipe, we made one out of a beer can. We also had no lighter, so we lit a candle. It was hilarious, there was wax all over the place. I think I ended up eating the weed on a cookie. It was so fun being bad. For some reason, doing these things made the weight on my shoulders a little lighter. I don't know where the tremendous pain came from, but it was heavy for a long time.

Jenny, and and couple other girls I was friends with, would go to Venice beach all of the time. One day, Jenny put the idea in my head that I should pierce my tongue. I straight out asked my parents if could go to Venice beach and pierce my tongue. Naturally, they said no, I was too young for all that. Being the rebel that I am, I went to Venice beach and pierced my tongue. I told the shop I was 16, and paid $60 in quarters and dimes that I had stolen from my parents housemate. I met a 22 year old guy, and we went and smoked pot with him in the back of a van. I told him I was 16 as well.

A month or two went by before my parents noticed the piercing. That scene was not pretty. In the meantime, I was pretty popular for being the only one in school with a tongue ring. I had boyfriends with bad reputations. At one point, my mom found syringes in my backpack. That, on top of the piercing, the cutting, the grades, the ditching, and whatever else, was too much for them. First, they sent me back to Catholic school (I was moved to public school for 7th grade). My mom had to beg to get me back in, the school didn’t want me back. Then she asked my biological father in Georgia to take me; he said no. After that, we had a very serious talk and they told me they were considering sending me to “placement”. A state home for kids that parents can't control.

Somewhere among all of that, I got into trouble while visiting family in Georgia. Man, this one is embarrassing, but probably happens more than people admit. I messed around with my cousin. We kissed and while sleeping on the floor together I was rubbing him. At this point, I was sexual, but sexually naive. I had no idea why my hand kept getting wet. I wrote a letter to my friend about what was happening and wondering if I should go all the way. Thank sweet baby Jesus I didn’t go that far. I left the letter in my dad's room, of all places, and was woken up for a serious talk. I don't remember the outcome of that situation. My dad had always been more like an uncle. No real authority, I only saw him 2 weeks out f the year. This is the most honest I've ever been about that situation. I've got no shame, shit happens. Eat your heart out.

[mysteriousmadamx]

[mysteriousmadamx]

Happy sucks ass

Well, I've had a pretty great week. It's harder for me to write when I'm happy. I will work on some stories about past experience. I've decided that I can't publish my current relationship stuff. It's not fair to the person they are about. People in our community know who I'm talking about. I'll save em for a future date. When I mentioned the issue to my sponsor, she advised me not to publish anything that could hurt anyone current. I agree unfortunately. Sooooooo, that being said- stay tuned for some saucy stories! I am also working on my Wordpress site and that keeps me busy.

[mysteriousmadamx]

[mysteriousmadamx]

The Flood

Fragile, each moment, each step. Love, is all we have, How easy we forget. My heart beats-out- of my chest Gasping, for each breath. I am, so small. A great ocean- filling my chest, Drowning, from the inside, Spilling out, with each step. I am the flood- You will go under. Hold tight, my love. Stay undercover.

[mysteriousmadamx]

[mysteriousmadamx]

Live to love and love to live

Sometimes I think that I should just date my best friend. She is absolutely beautiful, long legs, dark hair, piercing green eyes, and a very real personality. When we met, it was as if we had know each other for years. Our comfort level with one another is, well, comfortable. I see a lot of my positive traits in her, and traits that I don't possess but admire. We are both very passionate and opinionated. Most ares we agree, in others we seek to understand the others position. It's the way a relationship should be, honest. For some reason, in my experience, once I become intimate with someone the power struggle begins. The overwhelming need to be right all of time even when I know I'm wrong doesn't exist in this friendship. Maybe dating women is different.

I've never had a 'relationship' with another woman, just relations. I've always been curious. I've heard it said, that it's best to have a friendship before a romance. I've never done that either. Rush right in with blinders on, is my preferred method for beginning relationships. 

My life thus far has been led by my heart, not my head. Moving forward, I am choosing to let my heart rule and my head act as adviser. A partnership of sorts. What is life if I can't be in love all of the time? In love with my friends, my family, my lover, my cats, my life.

Life is about loving, learning, growing, and maybe helping someone along the way. I love hard, learn well, continue to grow, and help where I can. My relationships make me stronger. Even if they fail, I had the chance to love and learn. Never a moment wasted if I embrace those chances.

[mysteriousmadamx]

[mysteriousmadamx]

Being Human

What a curious condition, being human. I am a perfect specimen of  the human condition. The better part of this past year, I have been on a journey to sobriety. Once I shook the addiction, the true goal is to shake the condition. I will never be anything other than human. What I hope to accomplish is to be a better human with the strength and tools to overcome my nature. 

What would it look like to be a little less human? The concept of losing one's humanity is usually associated with a negative transformation. My take on it? There are many undesirable aspects of human nature along with the positive. In my transformation, I will be loosing the undesirables. 

Fear is the single most debilitating trait of my nature. Let's start there. Being in fear is the root of so many other character defects. Jealousy comes from fear. Fear of loss, fear of not being good enough, fear of judgement. Fear is a perfect breeding ground for jealousy. Jealousy causes me to act crazy. I say and do things that I wouldn't otherwise say or do.

The green monster is a relationship killer- at least it is the way I play. What a useless and painful emotion. It's about nothing other than my own insecurities and fears. Life thus far has taught me that I need my own friends and my own life outside of my romantic relationship. I like a lil overlap, but I need the room to be me. Understanding this about myself helps me to respect the space and time of others. Practicing this respect keeps the jealousy in check.

In my relationships with women, jealousy is toxic. It destroys me. I hate myself when I am in competition with other women. I'm either better than or nothing. Either way, I'm miserable. The right women save my heart and soul.

Jealousy causes me to judge, when I judge I'm nasty. Nasty isn't who I want to be today.

When I'm faced with the fear of losing someone or something, I show the ugly side of being human. I get mean, I get withdrawn, I feel less than, turn every shade of green, and I am paralyzed by fear.

My choice to go to rehab was by no means easy. I was so afraid of life without being able to check out. The most destructive yet romantic relationship I have ever had was with drugs and alcohol. My hesitation was solely based on the fear of loosing my most profound love.

This is my struggle. I suffer from the human condition. It is an internal battle to destroy yet, protect my humanity. I stay above water one day at a time, sometimes by the hour, sometimes by the minute. 

[mysteriousmadamx]

A song I wrote and sang❤️

[mysteriousmadamx]

[mysteriousmadamx]

[mysteriousmadamx]

[mysteriousmadamx]

AA is my life

My program has has been slipping. I’m pretty hard on myself when it comes to sobriety. There is some guilt around not doing the work. First, I’m not volunteering because my supervisor was fired and the company is unsure what volunteers can actually do so they pulled my project. She wants me to come to her new organization and I have been lagging. I was doing teen outreach and absolutely loved it. I am also not hitting as many meetings or keeping up with the daily written work. I do think about it though so that’s something. I am through the steps and I sponsor women, but they are meant to be lived every day. Currently, I am supposed to be taking a nightly inventory in writing, discussing with another person, and making amends where necessary. I’m pretty good at catching my bullshit in the moment and apologizing. Getting things on paper is important for me though.

So, “Why?”, you ask ,am I slacking. Two reasons. Big freaking surprise that number one is a dude, yes, THE dude. I choose him over other things. There is just something about him. Luckily, I’m not going in blind, deaf, and dumb this time, just dumb. My sponsor says that I will make different choices when I get hurt enough. A therapist once told me that I would change when it got “bad enough”. So true, and I have a pretty high fucking tolerance for bad. Perhaps something I should look at.

The second reason is my skepticism. I am not totally convinced that my life needs to be consumed by sobriety. I am at a place now where I just don’t drink. Illegal drugs are out as well. Living by the principals of AA simply make me a better person. If all normies, drunks, drug addicts, compulsive gamblers, anorexics and so on, would live by these principals as well- the world WOULD be a better place. There is definitely work involved to stay spiritual, out of self, and willing but who’s to one could not progress on their own. For me, I needed the program and intend to give it a full year. After that, who knows. I just don’t drink.

[mysteriousmadamx]

He challenges me.

I lost my e-cig, so now I’ve resorted to looking in places i know it absolutely can’t be. While looking under the pile of clothes on my desk (I have yet to use this piece of furniture for its intended purpose, piling it with clothes feels much more natural.) I noticed that my man-friend had left his grey t-shirt here. He too, finds the desk a fabulous place to put clothes. This is not yet the type of ‘thing’ where he keeps a toothbrush and deodorant here so his stuff isn’t usually lying around. He rarely ever stays the night. There are definitely signs of his presence such as candy wrappers, open cabinets, coffee cups, lotto scratchers, and so on. Typical man tornado. He also does things like take out the trash without having been asked and when I notice later it makes me smile.

Writing about irritations and hurts is both easy and entertaining, it is human nature to magnify the negative. (How fucked up is that?) I have decided to challenge myself and write about the positive reasons I choose to spend time with this man.

I am initially drawn to a person for superficial reasons, so lets start there. The first time I noticed him was at an AA meeting. Earlier that day, I had my heart handed to me by the last guy i dated. A thick fog surrounded me, so all I can remember of him from our quick introduction is his glasses and his mouth. I had no intention of meeting another man but I could not get over his face. 

After getting to know him- I found other reasons besides the physical. He is honest, and like me, tells it how it is. (I cant stand people who sugar coat and take forever to get to the point.) He doesn’t take himself too seriously, and he makes me laugh. He is beyond generous. He makes me feel warm and fuzzy. He challenges me. That is a big one- usually I am the dominate party. A lil power struggle can be fun. We’re very different and very alike. I’ve always been with men who either mirror me, or that like all of the same things I do. There is little room for space or individual expression in that type of union. 

And this brings me back to the grey t-shirt. His scent is on it. I am trying to decide if it would be creepy if I slept in it. After drafting a pro’s and con’s list I’ve decided that I’m OK with creepy.