That bleak melancholy which I started to feel on my first sober birthday pretty much continued today. I managed to get up slightly earlier than usual today, at 11am, which is better than 1pm and much better than 2pm, but still not early enough for me to get much of use done during the day. I went to the meeting in Central London that I never used to like and there I saw familiar faces, but I wasn’t instantly put at ease by the loud music coming from somewhere next door, which went on throughout the entire meeting, and I thought I had made a mistake in going out at all. But then I realised that I could make myself feel better by sharing, which I did right at the end, because it’s been a while since I understood that my feelings of negativity come entirely from within me. They have nothing to do with loud music coming from next door, or people being rude to me on the underground. I have a choice in how I feel, though I’m only just starting to accept it.
So I shared pretty much the same thing that I shared in yesterday’s meeting, about this constant insecurity which I have concerning my friendships and why people really like me. Afterwards several people came up and told me how much they loved me, just as S did yesterday, which was really nice. I went across the road with them to eat pizza and it was an OK few hours, but that niggling doubt still won’t go away. Will I ever be able to fully trust what my friends say to me? I suppose not, otherwise I wouldn’t be an alcoholic.
I think all of this is made worse by the fact that I am suffering a big anti-climax following my first sober anniversary. I’d built it up so much in my head over the last few weeks, that anything after it was bound to be something of a let down. I shouldn’t have built it up that much, but then again you only turn one year sober once. I’d have to have a relapse to experience that one year excitement again, and I really don’t want to go down that route. So that’s it, the year has gone and I have to move onto the next one. This time last week everything in my life seemed so wonderful, when I was waiting for that anniversary to arrive; now nothing seems that exciting to me, though I’m sure it will again one day. I definitely need the program more than ever, so I’ve decided to plough ahead with 90 meetings in 90 days. I tried this last year but couldn’t be bothered to continue after two weeks. It will be testing to do it now, especially if I manage to get a job, but I think I need to do it. It’s just another challenge to conquer, and let’s face it, I’ve conquered many this year already. I’ve been to a meeting every day since Saturday and I have them lined up every day for the rest of the week, so that’s the first 10 or so in the 90 sorted out. It only seems difficult in my head, something I’m quickly learning not to trust any more.