New Years Eve in Alanon

It has been brought to my attention that some folks who loved my blogs on myspace, are missing my alanon writings I use to keep private and for only a few readers.
I will try to incorporate a few of these blogs into my new blogging patterns.
Here is some insight to what it is about, before I begin. I never thought I would be the person to say, this has changed my life. That this has (enter cliche b.s.) in such a way that I KNOW ALREADY I will commit my life, "One day at a time" to these steps. If anyone could read into my past, they will know, I can't commit to going to breakfast tomorrow until it is tomorrow and someone makes me go. I loved my solitude. I depend on no one, no program and certainly no God. Just me.
I had often blogged on myspace about alanon and it's influence. There is much work to do. A lifetime of thinking and changing. Changing my thinking for my lifetime. Changing the life I once loved so much as I began to see the patterns of the relationships I chose...(we wont go there today)

The reading that night left me feeling that, just like every monday for the last 7 months, I didn't want to go. But I knew it would offer some insight. Some direction. Some serentiy. And as usual, I was glad I drug myself out into the cold to make myself better. One day at a time.

Here is the reading in a nut...
" I realized I was listening to Alanons words of hope - hope I began to claim as my own, if I was willing to work the steps. When I felt boxed in by despair, you assured me that no situation is ever hopeless and I could find contentment, despite my mothers drinking." (OMG true)
"When I felt worn out from replaying scenarios in my mind, (me? replay, sha!) I could put my problems in their TRUE perspective and they would begin to lose their power to dominate." (they f-in did!)
"I could take what I'd like and leave the rest." ( of the slogans steps, advice, words)
"You pointed out my choices, when all I'd known were rules and appearances. You claimed that you loved me, even when I HATED myself, and that I would learn to LOVE YOU, too. You offered me hugs, phone numbers, sponsorship, and I'd hadn't 'earned them'
I didnt know what a loving interchange was.
"I didnt know what a loving interchange was, until you took time to SHOW me."
Thanks to alanon, for the persistent repetition of these hope filled words and ACTIONS.
Gradually they came true for me.
They really really did.

"If you try to keep an open mind, you will find help. You will come to realize that there is no situation too difficult to be bettered and no unhappiness too great to be lessened.

And with all this that I have learned, I have made it through the toughest year I have ever had, ever.
And I know love. Real, unearned, unconditional, guiltless, effortless returned love.

Thank God.
I am writing with tears welling, gratitude doesn't begin to touch what I am feeling. I didnt think I deserved to be truely accepted, to be held without guilt, to be able to call for help, to laugh and cry without judgements and mostly to be understood and guided. All without the promise of anything in return.
I could go on all night...
but i wont.
Its only the beginning!
I let it begin with me by letting go and letting God one day at a time.

Excerpt from the Salt War

I might be bored. And making shit up.
This is what I am thinking right now, and no, i will not be editing. this is me raw. and rambling for no reason other than... i am soooo freaking bored. pen to paper, no looking back...

So if I am just walking around, pushing envelopes and watching them bend, am I holding anything?
Today I ventured out into some freezing rain and it was freezing.
I was craving a shiver when I saw her there. Laughing to herself, kneeling down playing with pebbles. I thought, "Why is she kneeling in the rain on the ground?"
I got my shiver as i glanced over my shoulder and it was you again. But , there was no one there. It was only my hair, a shadow there where I thought you were.
And back to she, with salt crusted a good, well, 4 inches or so up her legs. Dried on to the black polyester of her pants just dragging in the street across sidewalks, torn and worn tight molded to her like my hands had been just days before on her hips.
Laughing. Infatuated.
I am guessing she had found something there on the ground. Something other than rain and broken glass or hearts like ours just laying there. Being run over and over and salted like tears on our cheeks. Does she wear this salt on her face like her pants, til wash? huh?
I love her, this full lippy, laughy, hippy, giggly carrier of pebbles and things to put them in.
I have no idea what i am saying anymore.

My point is.. I saw her stand up and put something in the envelope. The one I thought I had in my seemingly empty pockets full of change...
And it was big, and lumpy. Not a coat button or a zipper, something she held close to her heart that day and she walked away while I waited for the rain to freeze.

Dead quiet

Wednesday, May 17, 2006 4:17 PM
Current mood: drained
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

DEAD QUIET

I was holding my breath until the sound of the silence startled me.
It was so quiet I was unsure if it had ever happened at all. Sort of like a bubble bursting into the air. "Pop". So sudden and spontaneous.
Then there was blood all over and beeping and metallic things crashing, falling like the pressures in still veins. And then there was nothing at all.
Like she never happened at all. Like not a single one of us were really... "there" or here.
And no one really "comes back".
"Pop". We blink and we are done. Don't hold your breath..

To everyone I love.. I love you.
<3 Enjoy the sunshine of today.

understandings

i locked the door after one of those conversations.
the ones that leave no questions.
I stood strong and bolted with certainty.

An answer hung in the air like the axe I use to smell
in the shower.

the questions kept coming and i had nothing to offer,
but a stiff lip.

He had learned to talk while I was away.
I learned to walk before we met,
and
like everything that goes unsaid,
I let it roll like my eyes
on the other side of the door.
Bolting will not be an option today...

I wondered if I could still reach the girl I use to be.
Through all the closed doors
to the swingsets and off the floors
of nothingness.
I'd tell her it's all come to this...

a point? in time, in reason, in a new understanding of ourselves?

i forgot my point.

If a man can learn to talk, maybe I can learn to stand still.

I'm unsure of where this rambling is going.
So I'll sleep.
Life is getting back to good.

An unedited version of yesterday morning.

It hadnt seemed like 4 years once I got there.

It felt like was the first winter after the March that first brought us here.

Time has gone so fast and not at at...
And so much has changed.
I wanted to tell you I'm sorry, like always do.
I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry I couldnt lift you up and out an on and over all this that brought you there,
as if I could ever do enough.
I don't know what sort of Karmic consequence we are suppose to be repaying.

I stepped softly onto the snow that blanketed all that I had hoped to see.
Each careful step breaking through the silence and thin ice.

It's all so quiet. Everyone can hear my silent screaming whispers.
But there is no one around.
Not here or there or home or over the river.
There is no one there.

I feel as if no one remembers your existance, like they have all 'moved on'.
I've become too insecure to speak of my memories.
Is any of this real?
Like we all have to keep quiet and not step out onto the thin ice that covers you.
But fuck it. I dig in, I threw snow, I screamed my little head off inside my little angry hurting head.

And I brought you something.
Lillies. Again.
Waterless and white.
I burried them with you.

Because I want to see them this spring.

Straight lines

This is another old one that I really loved. Probably written in 2005 or so....

straight lines
Current mood: guilty

The seasons had changed and gotten much colder since I had last seen Sasha.
Her hair had changed and
So had I.
I vaguely remembered the scent of Paul Mitchell in her hair and the sensuality of those lips.
It had been such a long, long time.
I remembered a few things about her.
The way she traced my scars. The way I felt when we laughed when we got caught. The way I understood her the first time.

She had always tasted like vanilla frosting. Sasha was so smooth and cold, waiting behind eyes bluer than mine for me to melt her.
But her legs were hot and we had driven for hours waiting, anticipating another sunset.
We never knew when it did.
We stayed up talking about our haircuts and how long it had been since we had had a real...
haircut, color,
kiss, shopping spree,
ice cream
and such a good fuck
so we did.
until the sun could go down, like I on her,
before we could shiver and shake.
God, I remember her.

That night, after we had both giggled and squirmed and
you know, there was that moment.
At least twice,
I looked up to see her shadow against the door of our sacred closet,
I saw her so perfectly flawless.
I felt the love she had flood over me in waves like the passions in our embraces.

A familiarity so familiar it couldn't even be happening again.
So I fucking left her there. To walk straight lines and find someone like paul mitchell.

And I will be loved.

Vulnerability

vulnerability
tastes like his soap and pancakes at noon.
with sugar and cinnamon and edges crispy and perfect like his ringlets at ten.

This time comfort doesnt taste and smell and move freely like sheets

it smells like cedar and reeks of regret.
wishing i had never picked colors from a catalog
and stood still so long somewhere else..years ago.
i am so fucking scared
i cry all the time and cant catch my breath.
why am i building the house i know ill never really live in?

what if.
what was
who was she?

there must be a reason. what are we hiding.
there must be something
lurking.
for him to hide and me to find.

her photos haunt me while he sleeps.

where else is she. what was it like, was it worth it...
im breaking my neck looking
and im ruining the only security ive ever known. and been shown...

if only i'd have listened to his dad
and his friend
and his mom and
the bartender

I am living a lie that has never been offered to me before

My ultimate fantasy.
He said
You are my soulmate, my love, my wife to be.
This is
our life
our dreams
our home and our dogs
our fence and our molehills

i have it all.
my insecurities are everywhere.
and i am hating myself.
i am hating a brazillian escort and the friend who told me where to look.

of course its all my fault.
i should have trusted him more

wishing i hadnt been devestated the last 8 years of my life.
maybe then i wouldnt ask so many retarded questions.
and push him away... if only he would..

want me

not her.
i never want to see them again.
i cant speak portuguese anyway.
im never waiting til marriage again.