BURN IT DOWN.

Sobriety, Relapse. BPD. ADHD. & And All of This SHIT

If you’re looking for organized thoughts, you’re in the wrong fucking place.

I came into the rooms in January ‘21; I was “California Sober” for a spell, while in Thailand. #iykyk

I’m not gonna get into my past of drinking and using today. But I will talk about relapse, I will talk about BPD, and I will talk about recovery. Oh! and that motherfucking rabid squirrel.

Let’s start with the easy one, the squirrel. ADHD. This motherfucker is at a dj booth playing random things: music from the past, theme songs… I am so fucking sick of the “Scooby Doo” theme, but it is always here, every morning. And that coke fiend changes the song faster than bank holidays happen. BAM! BAM! BAM! and we’ve gone from “Jolene,” to *877-cash-now.”

With the rodent out of the way for a few seconds, lets go with <spins a wheel of crazy>… ra ta ta ta ta…. …….ta.ta.ta. ta…. sex me so good I say blah blah blah….. Why is Missy Elliot here?

I digress. BPD. phwew! That bitch. Borderline Personality Disorder. It is a big one, folks. I call mine Roberta.

She showed up when she was needed. She was there to protect my psyche when shit was going down. She is a trauma specialist. She taught me to build walls, how to turn off emotion and disconnect, she offered a safe space inside of myself when there was nowhere else to turn.

I no longer need her services.

Roberta turned things off, and I found that with alcohol, and other substances, I could toggle emotions.

I relapsed Monday.

I was trying to make a first post here and I wanted it to be moving. I needed it to be special. I was craving validation.

Well, there’s ego. I dug up my past, all of my hurt, my rage, my anger- and I found my disease- I pissed all over my stepwork; and I drank.

I’ve done a bang-up job at compartmentalizing my past, my drinking, my using, my crazy, my family, my friends, my wife, my kids…. but when its time to tell the whole story; SHIT GETS MESSY.

Roberta says, “put it in cages.”

Program says, “one step at a time.”

Squirrel rattles the cages.

Bobby, my disease, whispers, “Burn it down.”

And here is where I want to stop.

—I took a break.

My inner, better-self said take some time. I’ve got limits and triggers; I’m still working to put them all together. I feel like a puzzle with no edge pieces, or picture. Hell, it may as well be Braille.

Yeah, my life sometimes looks like a monkey trying to fuck a football, but I’m going to own it. This is my circus, and unfortunately, that monkey is also mine. Laugh or cry. Maybe you can relate, maybe you struggle the same; join me under the big top- this circus is gonna be wild.