5 months, 22 days

It’s past midnight now on Sunday morning, which is why I’m calling it 5 months and 22 days, although I will be talking about what happened on Saturday (5 months and 21 days). Quite recently I’ve got into the habit of staying up late and chatting on the internet, as you probably guessed from yesterday’s entry. It’s very late now and I know I should have been in bed a lot earlier, as I want to get back into the habit of early mornings. If I’m ever to get a job and keep it I need to get out of this routine of staying up late and waking up late. Sadly, staying up late is quite fun, even when I’m arguing on the discussion boards (like yesterday). When I was a kid I dreamed of being allowed to stay up this late. Another freedom to be grateful for in adulthood, I suppose.

I’ve realised that what I was upset over yesterday was quite trivial, and there are far more important things going on in life. I’m not pissed off with social networking websites and political discussion forums any more. They will always serve a purpose; I only get pissed off with them because my relationship with myself isn’t working.

Earlier on in the evening I went to my meeting in West London, one of the ones I’ve always quite liked. As with most of the meetings that I go to, I have some friends there now, and it’s been a while since I felt any discomfort there. Tonight that changed, as I bumped into someone who I kind of didn’t want to see. This is the guy who I share the greeting commitment with on Sundays, who I had a run-in with a couple of months ago because we couldn’t agree on how best to share the commitment. Last week something else happened between us which I haven’t talked about here because I wasn’t sure if it would require too much detail. I feel I have to talk about it now, because it has become important today.

Last weekend this guy sent me a number of fairly unpleasant text messages. At the time I thought he must be drunk, because they only just made sense. I didn’t even know if they were meant for me, but whoever they were meant for, the intention was pretty nasty. Today he shows up at the meeting, and he’s giving the chair, and he’s talking about the past six months of his recovery, as if it has all been normal and good and he’s all better now. No mention of a relapse last weekend. So I can only assume that he wasn’t drunk last weekend, and the text messages were sent intentionally. Either that or he was lying tonight, and has for whatever reason chosen not to own up to the fact that he relapsed last weekend.

It put me in an awkward position tonight, and I felt incredibly uncomfortable, more than I usually do in meetings. I could hardly bear to look at this person who had said such vile things to me in text message form. I have no idea why he sent the texts, what I’m supposed to have done to provoke him. We did have that disagreement last year about the greeting commitment, but that was all sorted out ages ago, or so I thought. Perhaps he’s still holding a grudge about it now. When he saw me tonight his face said it all: he looked like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. My heart sank, and I didn’t want to be there.

I couldn’t share in the meeting. I had no intention of sharing back to him. When you share you normally thank the person who’s given the chair first; I felt I had nothing to thank him for. I sat there in silence, and because it was a small meeting, my turn to share came round fairly quickly, meaning that there was a long silence before the secretary decided to close the meeting early. I walked out quickly afterwards, keen to avoid having to interact with people. I was pissed off with them all, for having shared back and thanked that person, even though I was the only one who could have known what he’s really like. I asked myself: why am I the only one who this has happened to? What have I done to him? Is he really a nasty piece of work, or am I paranoid? Was he really drunk last weekend? If so, why isn’t he telling anyone?

I spent the journey home racking my brains over it, and I’m no nearer now to answers than I was earlier. I feel a bit less bothered about the whole thing now, as I know that I’m not likely to see him again for a while. He generally doesn’t come to the Sunday meeting when it’s my turn to greet, and I generally don’t go when it’s his turn. So we have an arrangement that works. We don’t get along, quite simply. It’s not the not getting along that bothered me so much earlier – I know people don’t get along in life. I went through all of that yesterday. What bothered me was the awkwardness, the creepy sensation that something was not right. I don’t know how or when this situation is going to be resolved. I suppose all I can do is wait and see what he does next. If he sends any more malicious texts, maybe I will need to take action, because I can’t stand for it.


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