Self Sabotage

By ZenobiaSky · Jun 2, 2012 · ·
  1. ZenobiaSky
    Do you ever have one of those days where you sabotage anything good you have going? Most of the time these days I have really good days. Days where I get up and am productive, I get things done, I get out and do things. Then there are those days where I don't do anything I'm supposed to, and either sleep all day, or like today, I've been on here most of the day. Instead of yesterday morning going to my DBT class and then seeing my psychiatrist. I called and rescheduled for this morning... but no.. I couldn't get up and make an appt at 11:30! No renewal on my ritalin or Seroquel or Bentyl, or Clonazepam, untill I see her. And she is not available next week, I knew all this when I missed my appointment. Well ok, I have enough of all of them to last me 2 weeks.

    And then there is my friend that died, tonight is the viewing, and I just can't do it, I can't face it. (As I wrlte this Flossy the Cow is enjoying the addiction she MUST quit because of the low dose chemo, but instead sits there and smokes meth, maybe that will give her some energy, strength, courage... all those things she is lacking at the moment) But it doesn't.. I should know better than anyone it's about cognitive thinking. But the thought of leaving my house or answering the phone causes me so much anxiety right now that I feel paralyzed. I need to go to the store, the cat is out of food, today is my step-dad's birthday, I still need to get him a gift, I need cat litter. I certainly need a shower.

    Ok, that's enough of the pity party. Everyday I wake up and say this is the day. This is the day I'm going to get clean. And everyday .... well we know how that's working out. I really do enjoy my D-F family, and the little place here where I can be me, be honest, get advice and support, and not be judged. It also makes me feel good when I can offer advice to someone else, or have something to offer to a conversation. The real word doesn't understand people with addiction, mental illness, those who are recovering or recovered addicts. It's now time for me to get off the pot so to speak and get past my anxiety, I have a funeral and a birthday party to attend to and people are counting on me. But on my big girl panties, set down the computer and get done what needs to be done, especially what I need to do for my own self. I do wish you all a great weekend... and for now peace out...

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  1. ZenobiaSky
    Looks like today is no better, I couldn't fall asleep till 4 in the morning, being a victim of my addiction, just had to smoke a little more, and woke up after the funeral was over. I'm probably even going to try to find a way to avoid going over to my parents for my step-dad's birthday. I feel so guilty and worthless right now. Once again, I have let people down that were counting one me.
  2. DocBrock
    Please don't feel guilty. I couldn't face going to my sister's funeral. I hid behind my DOC because I couldn't face the pain at the time. My father knew, and forgave me my abscence. You've let no-one down.

    I couldn't face going to a friends funeral. He died doing -exactly- what I'd bollocked him for many times. As I was the one who'd got him riding motorbikes in the first place, trained him, got him through his test, did days of post test training with him. He had a habit of impatience when overtaking. On the way to work, he performed an overtake on the approach to a dip in the road. Head first into a car. Impatient and not reading the road plus complacency as he'd ridden on that road thousands of times.

    I felt so guilty. Perhaps I could have phrased something differently, placed a different emphasis on the requirements for an overtake. For the five days between the collision and his funeral, all I could do was 'go through the motions' until the early hours of the day of the funeral. I cracked, broke down into tears and put myself to sleep for the day.

    I met his dad about a year later. We went for a coffee and had a talk. He didn't blame me in any way. He said how his son would come back from training sessions, talk to him about what we'd been doing, explain why and he also informed me that he was told of each and every corrective intervention into the way he approached riding and how his son was so enthusiastic about how his riding was coming on.

    In both cases, I was tearing my self apart about my absence. I felt I'd let people down. I felt guilty, worthless. Could I have done something else at any point before their deaths which would have changed the events?. No.

    I tore myself apart. Creating huge problems for myself as a result with the feelings of guilt. At both funerals, my absence was noted and queried.

    When the enquirers were told I was 'in pieces and couldn't face it', those who knew me instantly understood.

    Sis wouldn't have wanted 'Ikkle bruv!' ( her first words on seeing me and how she introduced me to people ) to be torn apart with grief in public, neither would my friend. I knew them both, knew how they looked at things. They'd have understood and reassured me that my physical absence meant nothing. They'd have known I was blubbering at home, then laughing at recalls of our happiest moments.

    A musician called Levon Helm released a song called 'When I go away'. It is now my funeral music. Give it a listen. Prior to that song, my funeral song was going to be 'It makes no difference' by The Band.

    Don't put yourself through pain. No-one is truly dead whilst people still remember them. Treasure any kernels of comfort your memory can bring.

    My father needed me at my sis's funeral. He was a little pissed at me as he was counting on me being there to have shoulder to cry on. He didn't want me cracking up, and neither would my friend.

    Your anguish can't bring them back. Don't be strong. Recall why you liked them, recall happy events, imagine what their concerns would be if they knew your anguish. Sis would hug me and ask IkkleBruv! to stop crying and remember.

    So would my friend, and as tears of recall blur my vision and as words are getting tricky to find. I'll close with don't beat yourself up. Look after the living, including yourself and remember the happy times. After a time, the ephemeral memories bring comfort.
  3. Buzybee
    Dear Floss, DB is so right don't beat oneself up BB has a great tendency to
    Blame herself for any problem in her hive ALWAYS! She is talking to a higher
    Authority about this but has come to the conclusion that DF is better therapy.
    Bee has another teeny problem she always has crazy desire to laugh at funerals even though she is intensely sad about the whole occasion. She has
    Decided that this subconscious and hopes that the recently departed understands that, and that Bee hopes they are in a much happier place. I feel
    Always that they are. The wearing of sunglasses at these occasions is really
    Necessary for Bee at these times so she can keep those desires under kind
    Of control. I have every faith in you ZSKY when you are ready to venture back to the world you will meanwhile it's good to have me time to sort out
    Oneself. Hugs from Beexx
  4. Mick Mouse
    Its hard, isn't it? I was addicted to meth for many years, eventually ending up using IV on a regular basis. But I stopped and I made it through. As Bilbo Baggins once said "there and back again". It was VERY hard. Although I stopped many times, I never could STAY stopped.

    Meth sent me to prison for 5 years and the day before I had to go for sentencing (I knew I was not coming back, either), I went out to score. I ended up falling asleep at the dealers house, didn't wake up until almost sunrise, and missed out on spending my last day of freedom for five years with my wife and family. I have been out for about a year and a half now, and there is not a day that goes by that I don't think of that. Oh, I got the dope, and was spun when I went to prison. Going to prison was the only way I could stop. If that is not the definition of an addict, I don't know what is. I have been clean for almost a year and a half now, and I will NEVER go back. The very thought of using makes me feel sick now. Mostly because it brings back memories of a person who was....not good.

    if you ever want to talk...
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