My Inner Bubble
Less than three minutes ago I was standing on the second floor walkway of the motel I am staying in and watching a father and his two little girls play. The little ones had bubbles they were blowing while they ran. And ran. All the while blowing these bubbles that formed themselves in to larger and larger shapes before bursting. An event that saw no end in delight for theses two small children. If I try hard enough, I can remember just how much fun a bottle of bubble mix and a piece of plastic could entertain me in just the same way. Sometimes hours even. When I found myself low my mom would fill the bottle with dish soap and water and I was off and running. Of course when you managed to pop one with your mouth, the dish soap variety just didnt have that same taste. Fun nonetheless. Thanks mom.
I write this because I'm in a darkly transitionary place. I am no longer in Villa Serena. I have my voucher for supplemented housing and have an appointment on Monday June third with an apartment locator to start looking for a place of my own. Something I cannot wait to do. In the interim however...for the sake of honesty, which I try ever so hard to maintain, I have to mention some things. Those of you who read this blog will not be surprised...
I was discharged from Villa Serena on May seventeenth. On May twenty-second I decided to drink some alcohol. Five days. I shit six months of sobriety down the fucking toilet because I. Got. Bored. No excuses. I drank. And save three of those days since then, have not stopped. I have a steady income, a voucher that guarantees over half my rent paid, and what I hope is still a new start. Fuck.
I loathe my disease, yet am powerless over it.
That would be step one.
I continue to talk with my higher power...and I hope She hears my voice.
This is an update. And an update only. My honesty overpowers my sense of deceit.
I loathe my disease.
One day at a time. And tomorrow is a new day. If I don't drink tonight...I've won. For this day.
And as long as I lay my head down tomorrow night without having succumbed, I've won again.
That's the nature of my disease. I fight a battle each day. I just have to win those battles. The war can wait another day.
It's a beautiful night. I want to drink. But I saw a bubble blowing set at the convenience store right next door. How much fun would that be...
Less than three minutes ago I was standing on the second floor walkway of the motel I am staying in and watching a father and his two little girls play. The little ones had bubbles they were blowing while they ran. And ran. All the while blowing these bubbles that formed themselves in to larger and larger shapes before bursting. An event that saw no end in delight for theses two small children. If I try hard enough, I can remember just how much fun a bottle of bubble mix and a piece of plastic could entertain me in just the same way. Sometimes hours even. When I found myself low my mom would fill the bottle with dish soap and water and I was off and running. Of course when you managed to pop one with your mouth, the dish soap variety just didnt have that same taste. Fun nonetheless. Thanks mom.
I write this because I'm in a darkly transitionary place. I am no longer in Villa Serena. I have my voucher for supplemented housing and have an appointment on Monday June third with an apartment locator to start looking for a place of my own. Something I cannot wait to do. In the interim however...for the sake of honesty, which I try ever so hard to maintain, I have to mention some things. Those of you who read this blog will not be surprised...
I was discharged from Villa Serena on May seventeenth. On May twenty-second I decided to drink some alcohol. Five days. I shit six months of sobriety down the fucking toilet because I. Got. Bored. No excuses. I drank. And save three of those days since then, have not stopped. I have a steady income, a voucher that guarantees over half my rent paid, and what I hope is still a new start. Fuck.
I loathe my disease, yet am powerless over it.
That would be step one.
I continue to talk with my higher power...and I hope She hears my voice.
This is an update. And an update only. My honesty overpowers my sense of deceit.
I loathe my disease.
One day at a time. And tomorrow is a new day. If I don't drink tonight...I've won. For this day.
And as long as I lay my head down tomorrow night without having succumbed, I've won again.
That's the nature of my disease. I fight a battle each day. I just have to win those battles. The war can wait another day.
It's a beautiful night. I want to drink. But I saw a bubble blowing set at the convenience store right next door. How much fun would that be...
lego:
No