Using recovery to ‘not live’

I thought I was going to be perfect (yes perfect, not ‘just’ normal) if I stopped drinking. Works out some traits are rather stubborn, like procrastinating. Bleah!!! There is this taste of nothingness in my mouth, like my senses are bored. I guess I am because I did nothing AND still haven’t worked out my dream of last night. Apart from it probably being wysywyg, like, nothing more than a show of how I do stuff, how I react, respond in normal life when there is mayhem. So I’m gonna give it another try. They say reading a dream is a real art… It could be, I don’t know, and I don’t pretend to practise it, I just take from a dream what it tells me.

Dreamed that I got in the old Volvo of my parents, leaving for an appointment in Belgium where I absolutely did not want to go.

I have a business connection in Belgium and indeed I do not want to go there now. I have started this new business in consumer goods a few years ago. Blew a lot of money on it and, as I know by now, it is hard to be successful when drinking like a fish. So this could be the meaning of Belgium. There is another story to Belgium. Our family went on a family visit in Belgium when I was about 3-4 years old. My brother and I slept in a caravan way back in the garden. One night we woke up seeing (it was summer and light) a gloved hand feel along the edges of a window and seconds later somebody tried to open the door. God that was frightening. I screamed my head off. Parent searched the woods, nothing was found. There’s another nasty story attached to Belgium, one that really, really makes me not wanting to go there. Not sure what Belgium means, not sure if I want it to become clear.

The car was stuffed with dirt, rubbish, empty cups and all.

That is very strange, my parents would never leave a car like that. It might refer to my idea of my life or maybe how I feel about my parents setting me up for my life. I do blame them for not taking their responsibilities. What do I gain by that? I use it as an excuse to be easy on myself. It has nothing to do with compassion towards me. So, point 1 to work on.

And it was weird; the steering gear and the break etc were at the passenger side where I was.

I have concluded that the car is my life and hahahaha, I am in the passengers seat. How typical. That’s about true on how I have taken up the responsibilities of my life. And then life magically ‘tricked me’ and made me responsible by actually giving me a wheel and all the rest. Point 2 on the list.

And suddenly the car started driving by itself, backwards.

That’s what happens if you don’t take life into your own hands; life happens. We have this saying and it translates into: Standing still is going backwards. It is very possible that my dream brain actually works sayings like this into a dream. It has done so before. It IS how I feel about the years that I drank. Eh…. That will be about 30 of the 44… How to deal with that? How to deal with the thought that I have thrown a good deal of my life away? Some days I feel really guilty. Towards whom? Towards people that care about me and that I have lied to about ‘not feeling well’. Towards the Universe because we are all supposed to do (SPECIAL!!!) things with our lives. Toward myself, the potential and the years that I threw away. And sometimes I am just happy that I quit and see how everything I am, everything that happened, everything I did has brought me to the point where I got addicted but also quit. Several issues for the list.

It was very foggy outside and the windows were fogged up so I could not see anything apart from 2 small windows next to the mirrors.

Foggy outside… Not sure how that translates. The fog can refer to my newly found insight that this whole Western world is a world of addiction to alcohol. It is everywhere, it is amazing! I used to see that there was something wrong when I was say 11. My uncle would visit and drink 8 glasses in an afternoon and still drive home. I’ld go like: ‘If you kill one of my friends I never want to see you again!’ This of course was hushed down by my parents and laughed at by my uncle. Cause that’s how all the hooked people roll; in fog. Missed my calling, should be preaching. 😀

Trap 37: taking this extreme stance against alcohol is a good thing but I should not use it as an easy way to go through the middle of the emotional scale where the knowledge is. I should keep the firmness but loose the rigidity. Trap 38: don’t preach, it is just not elegant.

But mostly I feel that the fog explains my current status because even though I don’t drink, I still don’t feel that I have my brainpowers back. I am guessing that is because I have isolated myself and I am not using my brain very much, apart from studying how to quit and stay quit.

Actually I am doing exactly what I should not be doing and covering that up with ‘Oooooh, I am recovering, this needs time because it is the most important thing I can do in my life.’ Yes it is, but I’m using recovery to do exactly what I did before: not living.

Starting to think that I have difficulty asking for help. 😀 Would that be pride of not wanting to ask? Or the idea that it would be humiliating to ask for help? Or just a skill that I have never been taught because nobody I know does asks for help. Arrogance to think that I can solve everything myself? Yep said miss: I do everything better because I am special, don’t need help. Sigh.

My head is still sort of foggy but my hands actually stopped shaking after 6 days or so, but the ‘A4 paper test’ still shows a tiny little bit of shaking. I am surprised because I expected it to take weeks. My hands are still coloured red though. Studying online now to find a diet that cleanses the liver and reduces oestrogen levels so the redness will go away faster.

About the 2 small windows that were clear: I can actually remember ‘just making that up’ in the dream otherwise, otherwise, otherwise I would have been confronted with my helplessness. Ghegheghe, the power of the addiction even forcing my dreams. I am actually proud that I did that, which I guess is not according to that book that I don’t have.

Why would I be proud of this while I know it is another sign of how much my fear of being powerless has grown into my intentions and actions? Because I specifically like the part of me that can do this kind of stuff. It makes me feel special (gosh!). It makes me feel powerful. It makes me feel like wearing beautiful underwear; nobody has a clue but I know it’s there. So a thing to differentiate me from the rest of the world, an identity thing, secret, a bit strange (never normal, god forbid), a thing to make me secretly feel better than the rest of the world. The rest of the world, not my brother, not my friend, not my ex-class mates, no the rest of the world. What would I do if I met someone that could do something ‘more special’? I would be jealous. Ha! Now I know why I am hardly ever jealous, that would make me admit that somebody else has something better. Ghegheghe. Sigh and double sigh.

There are quite a few anti-social aspects to me, analysing all of this and noting down these findings as inelegant as they are is one of them. However I pride myself that I can and I do think that I am honest with myself. Do you? I am curious where other people see where I am lying to myself or the addict is talking while I don’t know it. Ha! And I’m not going to the AA because they might actually tell me and get me of my high horse… Grrrrrr, building my own cage over and over again.

I am pretty convinced that ‘everybody’ has these tiny and big character issues. I try not to be ashamed about it, that will twist my logic and feelings. Shame, guilt and ethics never lead to good results when trying to find stuff out, which is my reasoning. The other part of the reason is that I want people to feel uncomfortable with my what I pride myself with is my honest self evaluation. Want to shame people with lying their daily polite lies to me, tricksy little hobbitses.

And…..I’ve had enough of me for today. Guess you didn’t even get to this sentence. I prefer a bit of Masterchef right now.

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