Such interesting days, these free days, days free of camera crews and set things to do. Free of the ties that bind, and the batteries that die. I decided today that I no longer wish to be tied to anything, and that includes sex addiction, alcoholism, drug addiction, workaholism, and pretty much every other ism that I may happen to be tied down with. But I suppose that is the nature of the beast. To one day decide we are cured, all is fine, and move forward accordingly.
I think it was about noon while sitting in front of my computer watching “Magnolia” for the screen writing class that it hit me.
Fantastic actually, all it took was a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Half Baked, and a brilliant Paul Thomas Anderson flick to do the job. So I called Angel Pie to tell her the great news.
“Angel, I’m cured. I ate a pint of ice cream, watched Magnolia, and am no longer burdened with the troubles of isms. It’s really great. I feel awesome. Thank god that’s over with.”
After she finished laughing at me, she said to call back after the sugar high wore off. Which it did. And as the high from delicious vanilla and chocolate ice cream with cookie dough and brownie bits wore off, so did the cure for my addictions. Son. Of. A. Bitch. And they are all back. The sex addiction…. (I am feeling very lonely, and want to snuggle oh so desperately), the alcoholism….(Things are going great and what better time to drink than when things are great?)….the drug addiction (I never would have hit rock bottom smoking pot, and hell what’s one joint?) and the workaholism…(I’ve got a new job, a few actually and can’t wait to fully throw myself into the mix.) Every thing came rushing back and I remember why I’m doing this whole recovery thing, and I remember how this whole addiction thing ends…..It doesn’t. It’s a progressive disease that gets worse whether or not I happen to drink. The second I relapse I will be two hundred times worse than before. And worse is not a welcoming place for me to be.
So I went to therapy with Dr. Karim, and told him how magnificent it is to be cured, and how reality television has managed to push away all the terrible things inside of me, and helped me to turn over this new beautiful leaf, and thank god that’s over with. After he finished laughing, he asked me if I started showering and looking fresh because of the show.
Ugh. Damn observant psychman.
I told him no, he just gets me on my off shower days, or post yoga or hike, or on hat days, or other days that end with y, and suddenly I found myself questioning the amount I shower. I mean, I do bathe, I’m into that whole hygiene thing believe it or not, but certainly don’t go out of my way to be super tidy and cleaned up all the time. But for the past three days I’ve been very conscious of the fact that my hair looks good, and my subtle make-up is all in place. Matching socks, well, sandals I should say, and of course a touch of perfume. These are the things that make up a lovely lady, and that is what I wish to be. Progress my friends, not perfection…
Perfection would mean I shower, shave, blowdry, curl, make-up, match and coordinate every single day. And I’m still on the every other day plan, but I think maybe I have stepped it up because of the show, and because of myself. I feel good when I look good, when I’m all clean and tidy. It’s like eating something yummy, it makes you feel yummy….unless you eat too much and develop a belly ache. Or a sugar high that convinces you you’ve found the cure for addiction. But maybe there will be a day where I shower on a regular basis, like daily, and maybe there will be a day where I feel mostly cured, and not because of Ben or Jerry. But that day is not today.
Today I will settle for little glimpses of what it can be like, clean, fresh, and full of ice cream.