I had a lovely Saturday night. I spent it with Steve, the guy I had met the previous weekend for a date. I went to his place on Saturday night, and things happened…if you know what I mean. It was great, especially when I met his flatmates and didn’t feel socially anxious in the group situation. They drank vodka while I drank tea; it was fine. I still got the nerves in bed, but thanks to the mind-opening I’ve experienced recently regarding sex and relationships, it wasn’t nearly as bad on Saturday night as it usually would be. I didn’t expect to get a long term relationship out of it, and I didn’t expect to be ‘saved’. I was able to enjoy my body with someone who I actually found very attractive.
Yesterday when I came home, that seemed to change. I got off at my local underground station and walked back in the rain, and I was strangely reminded of the time when I lost my virginity in 2001. Back then I came home the next morning in the rain feeling guilty and cheap, like I’d gone too far in my efforts to be grown up. Yesterday it was the same feeling, and I couldn’t shake it. By the evening I was distraught, crying into my pillow because I felt so bad. I wished I could go back to the night before, when it had been so nice with Steve and I’d had such a great time. Here I was, alone in my own room, not knowing whether I would even see him again. I refrained from contacting him, because I know that chasing men up doesn’t work. If he wants to meet me again he’ll let me know.
So I was suffering from the old co-dependent feelings last night which I thought I had done so much good work on. All of a sudden I wanted that relationship, that happily ever after which I’d never experienced before. It was a definite attack of depression because I didn’t feel like doing anything else except lie in bed – I couldn’t watch TV, I couldn’t read a book, I couldn’t write my novel, I couldn’t even phone anyone. I knew I would have felt differently if I’d gone to a meeting yesterday. Those feelings rarely trouble me when I’m around other alcoholics, even if I don’t particularly like the company I’m in. I chose not to go to a meeting yesterday because I thought I was tired; I’d already done 4 meetings last week and since I finished my 90 in 90 I was sure I didn’t need daily meetings any more.
I feel slightly better today, though the fact that I’ve just been through such a bad attack is disturbing. I haven’t got my confidence back in the usual things yet: I’ve only managed to write two pages of my novel today, and I’m not really in the mood to read or listen to music yet. The lethargy is still there. I will be going to my regular step meeting later on to make the tea; hopefully that will help. I might even go for coffee with the group afterwards. I need some socialising, even though I don’t really feel like it.
Still, I can take heart in the fact that my novel’s still going well; I’m still healthy and sober; I’m still doing OK with money and I still have friends around me when I need them.