The book released two days ago. I haven’t thrown up on a single person/thing or in a single inappropriate place. I haven’t even thrown up in an appropriate place. Stomach contents have stayed content. Wonderful feelings really. Absolutely wonderful.
Wonderful feelings mixed with paralyzing fear, that melts back into surreal wondrousity. Yup. Made up a word. Boom.
I’ve been on an incredible radio tour these past couple mornings, getting to speak with radio folks across the country and only once have I been asked how many people I slept with. I laughed and told him he was such a guy. He laughed and waited for the number. Nobody likes dead silence on the radio so, thankfully, he understood the number would not be coming out. The single salacious question that has absolutely no bearing on anything going on in my life today. Thank god.
Saucy is snoring. She is such a sleepy head in the morning.
I had a nightmare last night. Dreamt that I went into Gallery Books and talked to their financial girl (don’t know if this person exists but I’m sure some form of her does), and she told me, “The bubble burst. You sold 131 books.” It wasn’t a nightmare because so few books had sold. It was a nightmare because I had no idea what that meant. Is that too few? Is that a lot of books? What bubble? What does bubble burst mean??? WHY AM I DREAMING THIS?
I had a book release party the other night, and Mr. Man was a pillar of nurturing support. He was so supportive, in fact, that my sponsor said, “He’s wonderful for you. So nurturing. So supportive.” Earlier that day, when I was doing the meltdown-shutdown dance, he said, “You seem a little overwhelmed. What do you do when you are overwhelmed.”
I said, “Shut down emotionally and punch the dog in the face.”
He said, “Let’s try asking for help instead.”
His parents came down for the party and to support me, which is delightful because my mom and dad couldn’t be here. Actually, it would be delightful if my mom and dad were here, it’s delightful they came regardless of whether or not my parents came. But having them here makes me feel like my mom and dad are here. Everybody needs a mom and dad. Knowing he couldn’t come, my dad sent beautiful yellow roses to the restaurant. It was almost like he was there. As close as he and I could get to him being there.
The amount of people who came to the party show support continues to astound me. Continues to remind me that I am such a fortunate woman. It is also a reminder of why I am sober, so that I may give the same support to the next man or woman in my life who needs it.
I am doing the best I can. I am showing up when I am told to show up. I am staying close. I am staying safe. I am excited and terrified and pleased and afraid and in awe and not afraid and all the things a human being is and can be. I do the dishes when I don’t know what else to do, or when I start to think of myself. I’m going to a meeting right now and yoga later. We will BBQ today and there will be more dishes to do, and it’s these kind of things that keep me happy.
The majority of interviews have asked why I wrote the book, what inspired me to do so, and I have told them repeatedly, it’s the community of people on this blog that inspire me to continue as I do and to write what has been written. The strong, compassionate, and empathetic people in this space have inspired every word of I am Jennie, and who continue to inspire me. Again, thank you all for everything you say, do, feel and share. I am the better for having met all of you.