A podcast stunned me stupid today. I wasn’t expecting to relate instinctively to a heroin addict describing the high. “Oh my gosh, it was the best feeling. I hated my life so much but that made me feel so good and so confident. It kinda made it feel like I was invincible but nothing really mattered, if that makes any sense.” I’ve never done heroin, but it’s a feeling I know intimately, and I found myself feeling homesick.
All posts tagged addiction
Puttering is my dominant activity of late. Not in the curious, playful way your dad used to putter in the garage on Saturdays. I putter with purpose. That purpose is avoidance.
When I updated my Facebook profile with ‘work’ [aw, that’s cute, love], it was absolutely no accident that I identified myself as Writer/Procrastinator.
A few people have asked me, did I go soaring off the wagon last Thursday, face first, into a pool of jellybeans and hot chocolate? I understand this. Part curiosity, part concern.
Short answer? No.
No cheat days, so substitutes, no maple syrup or naturally sweetened-therefore-harmless-right? treats. There are no excuses. You just do it. You practice saying ‘I’m choosing not to eat that right now’ and try to remember your college boyfriend, with whom you spent 3 years. This is called ‘perspective’ and it is your friend. Happy discovery: if I survived his horseshit for more than 1000 days, I can do anything for 30.