23.03.2016

This morning was pretty much a replay of yesterday morning: struggled up at seven, missed breakfast, into meditation, meeting, then over to work in the restaurant until three.

When I went over to work, Neil my room-mate was there. I thought he had the day off – as we both worked there – but it was nice to see him there working; the day would be more fun at least. It was busy and the work was finished in what seemed like a flash of the eye. We then had to run over for our 3 o clock meeting, the continuation from the 8 o clock meeting.

The questions on the board this afternoon were: Is it beginning to come to you that you have been living in a world of non reality? What has this been like for you? Have you ever tried to free yourself before from this way of life? What prevented you from becoming free in the past?

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Hard hitting stuff! We alcoholics are masters of lies and duplicity so yes we are living in a world of non reality to some degree or other. Some of the guys in the group had difficulty answering these questions. Yes the questions were nosey and yes they were presumptive and bold. Either the guys couldn’t accept they were alcoholics or they couldn’t get honest enough with themselves to dig deep for answers. To tell someone they have been living in non reality could be construed as offensive I guess. But I had kicked my ego out the door when I got here and i was willing to knuckle down and do the program. Anything so I wouldn’t go through the pain of where alcohol had brought me the last few times i drank. I’d just had enough.

It had taken everything and the binges now just got so bad, I had literally burned every bridge and any sort of joy I used to get from it. Even the first drink now would cause such a tremendous feeling of guilt, as I had been trying to give it up for the past year, falling off the wagon every few months, with disastrous results. My partner had kicked me out – and it was a very loving relationship when i was sober – my job was gone, and I had been staying in a hostel as I had nowhere to live, family were just exhausted with me at this stage I had fucked up so many times, so it was actually pointless even to reach out to them. Same with friends, I didn’t have any anymore. This was the lowest point I had reached, it was a new low. So coming in here was the only option for me.

The answers to the questions came very easily to me, because I have analyzed this stuff before, plus I’m good at getting my thoughts onto paper.

After the 5 o clock mass I called Siyana. It as a bad conversation because I brought up money. I asked her how much she transferred to my account and she got sore about it. She told me she was €150 short on her rent as she had to book flights to Bulgaria.I told her to be more care ful with the money, then she got real argumentative…oww. I guess I should have kept my mouth shut…God the way i used to waste money on benders was capitally sinful. She said she didn’t want to talk anymore and hung up. I went back to my room in a shite humour.

I was sitting in bed reading my book, lost in my own world, when the security guy came in and flashed his torch, despite the lights being on in the room, “Rosary has started,” he said. So i got up and went into rosary.

I went back to my room after and shaved. Then I went down the hall to the phones.The phone wasn’t taking the coins so I couldn’t call. Just as I turned the phone started ringing. I picked it up and it was Siyana. Lucky coincidence.

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We had a more amicable conversation this time.She vented about the money thing and how she’s independent. I agreed. She said 12 weeks wouldn’t change me, “I can tell from listening to you that you have changed.”

“I’m only here a wet week,” I said. “I’m here to change.”

I needed her. I need her I mean. I need these phonecalls is what I’m saying. I need to hear her voice everyday. I told her this. She said a lot of stuff then. Things that were on her mind. How she just wants to be happy with what she is doing now.

“We have to live in the present,” I said. “Stop comparing it to the past or to someone else’s life, or how you think it should be now.”

Then she said she wanted a baby, that she wanted to be a mother. She said I wasn’t ready to be a father.

I changed the subject and eventually we were in agreement over something. It gave me the peace I needed to go to bed with.

 

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