i've been orbiting now for nine days, if i'm correct. i'm drifting farther away from my own gravitational pull, and i'm finding that most of the things i encounter by way of obstacles are things that i've placed in my stratosphere myself. such as the crappy blogsite. so, if you set up all types of detritus in your immediate air and bio-space, and you have to one day travel through those things, then you have to clear a path. and, in truth, though i didn't look at it that way, that is the beginning of step four.
yesterday was a strange day. i felt good, but i was listless. i didn't want to keep track like i know i should, which is indicative of the child within me being fearful about something and being angry with me because he's not being medicated. i would imagine, in the physical world, children become addicted to the narcotic adhd drugs they've been subverted into taking all the time, but i don't read much on that. i don't know how to combat this. i'm being honest. i've never really tried before, never looked at things that way before.
yesterday i went to the gym, today i didn't. yesterday i ate pork rinds and thought more in terms of how to lower my carbs on paper than on eating correctly for the results i wanted that day. yesterday i turned my will and my life over to the care of God and i almost immediately lost track of that decision. self-will is childish. tantrums are childish. forgetting promises is childish. so i know, if i look closely, that my child is acting out. i am pretty sure it is fear, as i said. but what's happening that i need to be afraid of?
i am close to finishing both MECHANICAL JESUS and the screenplay, MURDERER'S ROAD. i am seeing progress with the book sales. i've been looking into having WAITING FOR JESUS put on as a play, looking into doing the play myself. that absolutely engages the child in me, as that was one of my favorite things when i was a child. when i was in grade school, i would be permitted to do plays for the class. i would write them out, and get my friends to help me with them, and we would get to rehearse and we'd get to perform and i can't remember if anyone liked them or not but i remember i had fun. but it didn't change anything. i was still a tub of lard, i was still fat albert, i was still talked about and laughed at. i think the drawing that i faked was a way for me to internalize my creativity, to express without being seen. but i could start seeing some results; its not like i haven't been grinding for the last 5 plus years on this writing thing. i'm 47. i'm young enough still to do things that could prove successful. i can see this as being extremely frightening to the person that i used to be.
i think everyone, every relapser who is honest with themselves, especially serial relapsers, can see a point where they hit a place, a wall or a hole or something, where they balk. a place where they come up against an inexplicable thing, maybe, or a thing that they simply refuse to look at, and they go back to what's most comfortable, most familiar. recovery from anything is almost absolute change, and that is a truly frightening proposition to most people.
for breakfast i had two boiled eggs, which was 140 calories, and a piece of wheat toast, which was 60 calories. for lunch, chili, 270, with a roast beef wrap, 200, and half a cup of chicken salad, 200. 870 calories so far, but all meal, no in-between snacking. i went to the tuesday noon discussion. it still feels amazing to see how much conventional recovery has suffered from the unwillingness of addicts to read the available information. if my opinion could save my life, then i would never die, cause i have opinions on everything. but if i need to do a specific thing, i need specific information on that thing, and that's what is not being given out these days. i continue, despite my self-will telling me i don't want to, because i am a recovering addict and my obligation is to God, not to humans.
i'm feeling out of sorts again. i think it's the chicken salad, but at least it's gone now. i got a cramp in my stomach like you wouldn't believe as i was riding with my friend Tina to the meeting. i worry, i get pains, i get cramps, i take megadoses of potassium, my sugar's been good, up and down, and the child in me doesn't like the inconsistency. but it's getting better, and i know that. i am not going to fall apart, but i am going to do what i can to keep turning it over throughout the day.
so, dinner was good. chip-less taco salad, 379 calories. bringing my total to 1249. not to shabby. my blood glucose before dinner was 155, also not bad considering only took insulin in the morning. i took 8 units of novalog, fast acting. i had been, earlier this year, up to 30 units of the fast acting. i was, in fact, eating myself to death. that i am lowering both long and fast acting makes me happy.
i just backtracked and erased a line, because i realize i sound often as if i'm whining when i'm really not feeling whiny or bitchy or anything. i am going to the gym tomorrow. i have a foot doctor appointment tomorrow, and i have my noon meeting tomorrow. i've not spoken to R since sunday but i'm sure i'll hear from her soon enough. i have some money in the bank, some in my wallet, the writing is moving along just fine and i'll be done with both of my current efforts, first drafts anyway, by the end of october. gives me a good start to 2016, and it makes the winter more exciting as it will be time to work on THE BOOK OF OLD LAZARUS. but i feel melancholy. it is fall. this means my bad season is coming. last year it took me forever to get past November. i don't know how long it will take this year, but i know i'm working on not being silent, not being still and not giving it more power than it deserves. i'm trying to keep feeding the Tim in me that deserves to be happy and productive. that's what the deal is.
i think i'm going to try to turn in about 10 tonight. i want to try the relaxation vid on youtube again. it worked so well sunday night, but i just couldn't get under with it last night. i really have to stop always trying to find better when i have good enough. i also have to close my bedroom window and turn the fan on low. i need circulating air, but i don't do extremely chilly or cold for sleeping. i think i'm going to just leave things in the hands of my Father, and i'm going to turn on the auto-pilot and the asteroid destroyer and i'm going to float until the sky is clear, and then we'll start dealing with the debris left in my wake. but for now, i love myself and i hope whoever reads this loves themselves too.
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