I feel unusual today. I didn't sleep well, which may have something to do with it, but I'm bored and antsy, and simultaneously don't want to do anything at all. I want to go to bed and pull the covers up and just lie there, but I also feel like I can't sit still. I don't much like it. Maybe it's because I don't really have anything to do. I finished my applications, and I finished a letter for an independent contractor job, and my job at Xander's music school doesn't really require any outside work, so I have nothing that I'm supposed to be doing. I could cuddle in bed with all my blankets and pillows and watch Netflix, or I could crochet, or read, or write a story or essay, or do anything at all, really, but it all seems so unappealing. I want excitement, and vivacity, and free, untempered life, but all I have is a headache. I should drink some water.
It's like, I just want time to pass. I feel like I'm just wasting away, trying to while away the hours until something more interesting comes up. But nothing has, so far, or at least it hasn't for the past few days. I feel like Rapunzel in the tower, except the tower... is actually society.... damn......
Foucault would have loved me.
I took my car (I say my car, but it's really shared between me and my mom) to the garage today, because Mom thought it was making a funny noise in reverse gear. But the mechanics took one look at it and told me that there was nothing wrong with it, and I went slinking home in shame. I'm relieved, but also a little embarrassed. I always am, somehow, when I go to the garage. I know only enough about cars to make myself look like a dumbass, and boy, I always do. But at least I'm polite about it. I want to learn more, though! Maybe I should ask Xander to teach me some stuff. He did a huge major repair on his car that apparently is difficult and might make the engine explode if it's not done right, and I'm very impressed. I want to be a grease monkey, too! I think it's really cool. I do like this sort of stuff, even though I'm not a huge fan of the car grease getting everywhere. Also, I want to be one of those Hardware Store Lesbians who can build houses and fix plumbing and do all that sort of useful stuff. I think it's my destiny. Maybe then E will keep me around-- isn't it always nice to have a handyman on the premises?
Speaking of E, it's only about a month until she gets here! She's coming for a whole week, and I couldn't be more excited. We're going to spend the first four days together, just us, and then we're going to Vegas with Talia, Anselm, and Natalie (maybe Xander, too, but he'll probably be working). I was going to invite some more friends, because I honestly don't mind cramming all into one room together, or I could even split the cost to get another room (I ain't footin the whole thing, though), but E is a little introverted, and I don't think she would like it if I invited random people whom she doesn't know. Everyone wants to meet her, though. I'm trying to think of a way to make that happen while still making sure she has a good time. Maybe on Friday-- we're coming back to my mom's place so we can go and watch Anselm's high school graduation (!!) and we could go out for coffee with friends or something. I'm really excited to show her my hometown, actually. It's not very impressive, but it's mine, and it feels like she's really becoming integrated into my life this way. I mean, she's going to watch Anselm's graduation! That feels major. And she's going to meet my whole immediate family, oh goodness. Oh goodness. I guess that means she's going to meet Dad. Um, let's just say yikes together on three? He's going to say something really embarrassing, I know he will. But I have warned her, so hopefully she won't break up with me when he says some offensive statement about Brexit or something. And it's okay, because she'll also get to meet Mom and Xander and Talia and Anselm, and they'll sort of balance things out. It seems like so long to wait, but I know it will go by before I know it.
Now, what should we do in LA, though, that's the question. We'll be there for about three days (two-and-a-half days, really), and there's so much to do, so I don't know how we'll manage to pack it all in. I guess I'll just have a list of options ready, and she can pick whatever she wants to do. I have a google doc, actually, full of links and ideas and information, and I'm thinking it can be like our little pocket resource. Also, I've already shared it with her, so she can contribute, too. I sort of want to take her to UCLA so she can see where I went to school, but I don't know if she would be down for that. We could visit Kitty, even (although she'll be working, so maybe not). I don't know what we'll end up doing, but whatever it is, I'm sure we'll have fun. Or at least, I'll have fun. I hope she does. Whatever happens, though, it'll be an Experience to remember.
I got this super bad urge to drink this morning. Insomnia always triggers a sort of feral response in me, where I go absolutely batshit insane and drink massive quantities of alcohol that should really not be consumed at such high volumes. And I actually have a bottle of nice bourbon, because I treated myself the other day (I stopped at one glass, though, don't worry), so it would have been really easy for me to go for it. But I didn't. I journaled about it instead. And I think that's some really good progress. I mean, damn, it was a really strong urge. I had to bundle myself up in the blankets and physically turn my face away so I wouldn't see the drawer where I keep it. Sunny, you say. Shouldn't you just pour it down the drain? And yes. That would be the sensible thing to do.  But I don't want to waste it. I paid money for it, man. And besides, if I can keep on resisting temptation like this, it'll really increase my mental fortitude, and it'll help my recovery. So it's actually a good thing that I have this alcohol. It's like when people keep portraits of their mortal enemies in their houses so they can be reminded to have strength. It's definitely not AA-sanctioned, but I don't particularly care what the AAssholes have to say. It's my life, not theirs. Besides, my tenth step (in my own twelve steps that I wrote) says that we must determine the relationship we can have with alcohol on our own. I can't just take someone else's story and try to make my life match it; it doesn't work that way. I have to explore and figure things out on my own, because recovery is very personal, and really does work on a case-by-case basis. Some things work for most people, some don't, but I need to be able to make these decisions for myself.
Why do I even want to drink, though? I mean, besides the fact that it's fun and whiskey is delicious? I don't think it's that simple. For me, drinking isn't just some fun game that I can take or leave; it's something I have to watch with care. I might be in recovery, but I still have an addict's brain. And right now, that brain is telling me that recovery isn't worth it, and that everything will be better if I just take that one drink (which will of course turn into a whole bottle, which will turn into hundreds of dollars worth of puke and strained relationships). But the thing is, my addict brain is a little silly, and doesn't have all the facts. He can only think about feeding his addiction, and not about the consequences. He doesn't realize that my life would be much better if alcohol wasn't a huge factor in it, and that there are other things to worry about than getting my next drink. But I realize it. And I'm not going to let him run my life anymore.
(I don't know why my addict brain is a man, but I feel that he is. This is nsfw, but my vagina is a man, too.)
I do wonder why this is creeping up, though. Maybe it's because I stopped smoking weed. I like weed, but I was starting to like it a little too much, so I decided to take a break. And now I'm all out of sorts, and I can't sleep well, and I haven't made any good insights, which is all good proof that I was starting to get addicted and needed to stop. But anyway, I think I had started to replace alcohol with marijuana, and now that I don't have either, it's like a scramble trying to think of other ways to ruin my life. Is it going to be the eating disorder? (yes-- I'm eating only twice a day now, and in small portions) The self-harm? (not yet, but it may be coming) Honestly, my dude, why do I have to be self-destructive, though? What's wrong with just living life in a healthy way? I think I'm scared. My entire adult life-- and really, most of my adolescence, too-- was spent in total misery. It's all I know. So I guess the thought of being healthy and happy and in recovery is just too bizarre for me to comprehend, and my damn addict brain is trying to sabotage me because he can't face a future without the comfortable darkness. Like, fuck off, man. I'm trying to get myself together.
I have to keep asking myself what my goals are, and how what I'm doing is fitting into them. And I guess it's a little hard, because at this point, I'm not sure what my goals even are. Yes, I want to move to England and get a job and complete the Masters program at whatever school I decide to go to, and then I want to get my doctorate at USC, UCLA, or Stanford, but it feels so nebulous. What if I do decide to get a psychology MA, and then I decide that I want to go into counseling or something? I would be good at it, I mean several people have told me so, and I think I would enjoy it and be able to help a lot of people, but is it what I truly want? I don't know. I don't even know if I truly want to be a professor anymore, either. I do, but I also feel that it may not be my true calling. However, since I have no clue what my true calling even is, I guess it's okay to work for that for now.
You know, though, I'm starting to see that there's more to adult life than work. I can be happy even if I don't choose that perfect career. Even if I don't do something in linguistics, I can still research and study on the side, and integrate that into my life.
Okay, I'm back. I went for a walk, and stopped at that cute little cafe on the way back and got a cheeseburger and fries, which is of course, not very healthy, but it sure was delicious. I haven't been eating properly for a few days, so it was really nice to just get some good nutrition. It's fine, I'll make something healthy for dinner, but I also don't think it's bad to just eat something big once in awhile. It doesn't have to be hummus and carrot sticks all the time (though that's also delicious). What's the point of getting healthy if you can't have cheat days?
I watched this episode of Queer Eye (which is my new favorite show, by the way) where Antoni, the cooking master, told the guy they were all making over that anything tastes good if you put enough butter in it, and that it's easy to take the lazy way out, but if you can cook something healthy and yummy, that's even better. And man, I dunno, it really inspired me, like yes, I do use a lot of butter, I cook like a Southern dude, and yes, my gumbo is really good because I use bacon fat to make the roux, but I could just as easily use margarine (ew though). Okay, there has to be a balance, though, because objectively speaking, most margarine tastes bad. Maybe I could use olive or avocado oil instead. Anyway, I got a little off-track. I really like Queer Eye, because it's such a hopeful show. The guys meet their subjects where they are, and don't do anything that would be antithetical to their lifestyle. They just help everyone find the best versions of themselves, and I think it's really lovely. I wish they would come make me over. I think I would disappoint all of them except maybe the fashion master (and I would probably disappoint him, too, because I still wear the clothes I wore in college, and now that I'm a Real Adult, I should probably get a new wardrobe). But it would be worth it, because then I could live a better life (and maybe get verified on Instagram). You know what, though? I can be my own Fab Five. I can be a cooking master, I can be a fashion master, I can actually take care of my skin and hair. I might have trouble with the "design" bit, and I don't know what Karamo, the culture master, would do with me, but I can figure that out, too. I'm queer, I have eyes-- let's do this.
You know what? I'm still hungry. What the hell. I'm going to go drink water.
Okay I'm back. You know what's always been really an issue for me? How much food I eat. I'm a small guy (like, objectively speaking), but I used to eat like a power-lifter. But I realized, probably about a week ago, that growing up (and up until college, probably), I was always hungry. We were guaranteed dinner, and that's literally it. So it makes sense that I always ate as much as I could when it was available, because I really didn't know when my next meal or snack was going to be. Actually, I've never been into snacks, and part of that is the ED and part of that is because I just never had access to any. But some people just eat whenever they're hungry! Isn't that weird? It's probably not a surprise that I have issues with food now. I mean, I love food, and I love cooking and reading recipes and making Pinterest boards, and all that, but it's always had a sense of the forbidden. So it makes perfect sense that I grew up with a case of restrictive (and occasionally purging) anorexia. Oh man. If I have a kid, I have to make sure they grow up healthy and happy, with three meals a day and snacks if they want them, and I have to be able to cook good, nutritious food so that they, and my wife and I, will be able to stay healthy and strong.
Actually, there's a lot of things I need to do for my future child. It's a little alarming, because I was rather abused growing up (I have only now started to accept this), and I don't want to make the same mistakes that my parents did. But I guess I don't have to. The first step is recognizing that I faced these problems, and then the second step is determining not to put anyone else through that, and then I guess the third step is actually doing my best to give my child the happiest, most healthy life that I can. Which means I'm going to put their health first. I always thought I would be a tiger mom, but I'm starting to think that's not me. Instead, I'm going to foster an environment of care, where my kid can talk freely about their mental health, and can take days off if needed (I'm going to say one per quarter, maybe), and talk to me and their (other) mom about anything. And I'm going to tell them I love them, and I'm going to hug them, and I'm going to dress them in nice clothes that are appropriate and actually fit, and I'm not going to make them sleep in the same bed as me, and I'm especially not going to make them take off their clothes to sleep, like seriously, what the fuck is that? And I'm going to do everything I can to give them the life that I never had.
I'm not sure if I can actually have a kid, though. E doesn't want any, and I would never want to force her into something that she doesn't want, especially when it involves an innocent human life. I have no doubt that she would be an amazing mother, but I want that to be her choice, not mine. And if she decides that she never wants kids, that's okay. I'll take care of my siblings' kids. I do sort of hope she changes her mind, though, because I'm kind of growing attached to the idea of being a mom. It's really weird, because I thought I would never want to, and in fact, I never even wanted to get married,  but now everything is changing. I definitely want to get married, and I'm starting to think about baby names in my spare time, and like? What happened? I really am a completely different person now than I was at eighteen. Which is a good thing, but it's also bizarre. I never knew I could change so much. It's a positive thought. I hope that I'm completely different at thirty than I am now.