Retail and Therapy

My baseline for my mood has been so much better this last week. I got my first job and feel like there might be hope for me to function outside of institutions. What a novel concept for the girl who has thousands of dollars spent on professionals for her each week to keep her from killing herself.


How to Get a Free Pizza

There’s a “rule” in AA that you shouldn’t mess around with newcomers or people with little clean time when you have more time sober. I don’t necessarily think this is an arbitrary “rule”, newcomers are sensitive and vulnerable, but I resent that modern AA has made up rules along the way that are not in the Big Book and judges people that do not follow them. Besides, I’m pretty much a newcomer myself. I judge people as people and do see their time sober stamped on their head.

However, my dick picker has been off as of late. I pick the WORST guys. Yesterday I was at an AA meeting and sat relatively close to a semi-cute guy. I decided the only way to make the meeting anything less than worthless in my eyes was to pick up this guy and have him validate me. So of course that’s what I did.

I ignored the stale stench of weed on him and focused on his comments about my out of this world eyes and beauty. He didn’t even want to fuck me, but that’s all I know with men: how to fuck them. I don’t know how to carry on a conversation that isn’t innuendo without feeling self conscious and tongue tied and I don’t know how to feel validated if it isn’t through a man’s orgasm.

There’s no reason to continue the story; he’s just like the rest of them. I make him just like the rest of them. I ruin potential relationships by jumping the gun or, rather, jumping on the dick.

However, before I sign off, I did promise a tip on how to get free pizza. He called Pieology in Westwood and told them he just got a pie and accidentally dropped it outside right away. He asked if he could get a new one. They said  yes. I don’t know why. I guess stoners always get their pizza. What a guy…

Survival of the Fittest

I think about Darwin sometimes. Evolution and survival of the fittest. Put me in a time machine to the caveman era and I would rot in my cave alone or be kicked out of the clan. Depression, anxiety, bipolar, would feed me to the figurative and literal wolves.
Without the aid of the 21st century “life support”: meds, therapy, sober livings, intensive outpatients, and more meds: people like me…we would rot in our caves of closed blinds, isolation, Netflix, razor blades, pills, alcohol, and food that gets eaten or not.

Sober and Psychotic

The title is tongue and cheek. This blog will mostly be me being an asshole, but there are going to be some serious posts about my struggles with sobriety and my mental health issues.

I have been trying to get sober for five years with a legion of chronic, painful, shaming relapses along the way. Right now I have 107 days sober from alcohol and drugs. Sheer willpower or “white knuckling it” as they say in AA. Another saying that implies that AA and the program they present is the only way to get and stay sober. Something that I don’t appreciate at this point in my life. I am disillusioned and cynical about most of the major themes in the AA program. I’ll get to that later.

I live in a sober living surrounded by other kids in their 20’s that are sent here by their rich mommies and daddies. I’m just trying to get the basic information out there in this post. I could rant, bitch, victimize myself, and be a downright asshole about sober living life for paragraphs upon paragraphs. More so than AA.

I believe that I need to stay sober, but I think that sober livings and AA are not the only way to do it. A topic to get to on another day. When I’ve had more coffee and I am particularly peeved by the insolent, incompetent bitches that work here at my sober living and power trip because their lives are smaller than mine.

My current mental health diagnoses is bipolar 2. The bitch of living.

Okay, this post is dragging on forever and ever. They took me off my Vyvanse because they thought I was starving myself. (I also have a gnarly eating disorder)

So, goodbye the ghost of the internet that I imagine is reading my post.