I’m pissed off tonight. A bunch of AA friends have just got back from a holiday in the Mediterranean, to which I was not invited, and they all look amazing. Their tans are beautiful, they had a great time, and I resent them for that. Why wasn’t I invited? I realized months ago that I would probably have been included if I’d been present for the initial discussion where they agreed to go away together. It’s just bad luck that I wasn’t there that time. This is what I had sorted in my head, right up until today when I saw them again. I knew the holiday was all they would want to talk about; I knew they’d look great after a week in the sun and I knew that they would have had a fabulous time. I wasn’t angry about any of it, until tonight when they showed up at the meeting together like a band of brothers, happy and joyous and free and frigging brown as toast. All of a sudden, I felt mortally wounded by their actions, and I didn’t want to be around any of them, even my closest sober friends S and D. S, who has a wicked sense of humour, constantly reminded me of how great he looked by rolling our sleeves up and putting his bronzed, toned arm next to my white, pasty one.
He didn’t mean to really upset me, it’s just the way we’ve always played with each other. We could always say and do things to each other that others might find really offensive; we have very low boundaries with each other because we’re very close friends. I took all his joking tonight with a smile on my face, while inside I was seething. For the first time, I wanted to smash his face in. I wanted to storm out of the meeting and tell them that they’re no longer considered friends of mine. Not for the first time, I’m experiencing the urge to punish people who I feel have done me wrong. The idea of leaving AA has crossed my mind, yet again. If I was to disappear from meetings now, they probably would be quite upset, which is what my sick head wants. I want to hurt them like they’ve really hurt me.
The sad thing is, I didn’t think it would hurt me this much. I thought I was over getting being hurt by things like this. But clearly I’m not, so what am I supposed to do now? All my sodding life I’ve been hurt by one unintended let down after another, and I never know whether I’m allowed to be upset or not. Just like everyone I ever knew before recovery, my first sponsor would have told me that no one owes me anything. I have no right to be angry because being invited on holiday isn’t a token of someone’s love for me. Well, that’s what my first sponsor would have said. I don’t think I believe it at the moment.
When P didn’t invite me to his sober birthday meal earlier in the month I went through a couple of days of silent mourning, and I haven’t felt very fond of him ever since. Tonight I feel like I never want to speak to him again. He’s right in the middle of that clique, and I am so jealous of him. I’m jealous of all of them. I want what they’ve got, I want to go on frigging holidays with people in the sun and I wish I could just tell them. How sad is it that I’m going to France on my own next week? I was looking forward to it, but now I’m painfully aware that my motive for booking the holiday was to make up for not spending that week in the Med with my friends.
I’ve told people that I’m going away on my own next week; some have said things like ‘oh, that’s nice…’ with glazed looks of horror in their eyes. Others have said quietly that they’re not sure they could ever do such a thing. No one really thinks it’s a good idea, I can tell. I want to go to Nice next week and have a great time, just to show them that they’re wrong, but I don’t know if I’m capable of it. Wouldn’t it be better with friends? The trouble is I couldn’t find anyone to go with. How sad, and pathetic, and tragic my life is.
You’d think after a year’s sobriety, it would take something big to bring me down into this pit of despair again. Someone said in a meeting the other day that it’s the small things which get us, and I think they were right. I don’t want to drink tonight, but I want to do something to get me out of my fucking thoughts and feelings. I’m so angry, and I know they’ll know because it will just show in time. What I’ve learnt this year is that you can’t hide feelings, no matter how much you try. The anger will subtly seep out in my behaviour, perhaps slowly, perhaps quickly. When I made that bitchy comment to J a couple of weeks ago, that was the first sign. I can’t keep this in, it’s too important. I want to tell someone, but how the hell do I do it? Is it what they really want or need to hear?
Last night was so lovely, with my sponsor and B, I felt even happier than I did in Sweden, when I was amongst so many true friends and so much fellowship. How can I feel so low now, just 24 hours later? Because I’m an alcoholic, you keep saying. What would the program tell me to do with this anger?
1: Write it down – I’ve done that
2: Tell someone – who?
My sponsor is flying out to California in the morning, so there’s no possibility of getting hold of him right now. I’d share about it in a meeting, but the problem is that the people I’m angry with go to all the same ones as me. The gay fellowship is big, but not that big, in London, unfortunately. I won’t drink tonight, and that’s all I can do.