Room and Bored
I am frustrated. I find weak people very frustrating. Why doesn’t everybody just get it like I do? Heh. Honestly, we should all be thankful that not everyone thinks like I do, or we’d be in a heap of trouble.
For years I’ve known I don’t like my job. I like parts of it, but the overall job, I don’t like. I don’t like being in charge of someone else’s success. To a large degree, I can’t help it if someone else is weak or lacking. I have a hard enough time keeping myself accountable and my head above water. I like the vast majority of the people, but one or two of the ones I work closest with are the most difficult for me. Maybe that’s the nature of it; those who are just casual colleagues are easier because there’s more room and space to act as a buffer.
Room and space, that’s a theme that surrounds me. I want plenty of room and space mentally, physically and emotionally and I seem to somehow create those circumstances even if they aren’t there to begin with, even if - especially if - that room and space endangers them.
My husband now works a job where he’s gone 90 hours a week, at my support and insistence. Just a few years into our marriage, I find us with less and less to talk about. He is a kind, forgiving soul and I’m lucky to have him but I feel like we’re losing those connection points. I can only get so interested in the things he’s talking about because they have nothing to do with me and vice versa, I would image.
Even my best friend and I don’t talk every day, or even every couple of days. And, while she’s in my heart, she’s about 3,000 miles away geographically.
So, I oft find myself with plenty of room and space and then … I’m bored. And because I’m bored, I drink or gamble or otherwise futz around.
“Be careful what you wish for,” comes to mind.
I’m not anti-social but like so many people with addiction issues, it takes a lot out of me to be around people. I suspect this is because my outsides don’t match my insides at this point.
The relief in being honest with my husband about my gambling has been immense. I can only trust that being honest about my drinking to even these anonymous pages will also bring relief. Because in being honest, which is a new path, I’m not sure what I’m going to find.
Perhaps it will be glaringly obvious that I have a Problem, capital P, with drinking and, like gambling, it’s something I can’t ever do again. Or perhaps I’ll find it was simply a crutch to help me cope with other issues. Or perhaps a find that it’s neither, but I’m so happy being sober that it’s like finding a new hair color that suits me better. Brown was OK, but I find that I feel and look better with blonde.
Who knows? What I do know is that I am not always the best about follow-through, so the mere act of getting to 30 days without drinking will be a nice accomplishment in itself; 30 days of doing anything consistently - whether it’s praying, or flossing or taking vitamins - is a good thing.
I also know it’s nice to have some place to unearth all of this muck. Because, lo, there is a lot of muck.