Friday The 13th
I’m not superstition. I own a black cat named Midnight. I’ve broken mirrors. I’ll walk under ladders. I don’t believe in any of that superstition stuff…. BUT I’ve always had bad things happen on Friday the 13th. My roommate’s cat killed my bird. Ect ect….. I always refuse to work on that day because I was scared of what was to happen. As this Friday approached, I kept thinking that there is no way this can keep happening year after year. I was determined to have a great day.
Well, I woke up after having a relapse nightmare. In my nightmare, I drank three mixed drinks on a rooftop, got tipsy, and went to bed. So then when I woke up for real, I thought I had drank the night before because I went to sleep in my dream. I felt sick to my stomach and just plain horrible! I kept thinking I was going to have to tell my guy and that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore; and then tell my parents and let them down because they have been so proud of me with all the changes I’ve been going through. Then I realized that it was all a bad nightmare and it set in that it was Friday the 13th. I was like, “Ohhhhhh Nooooooo!” But of course, I’m like, “Fuck that! I’m gonna have a great day!” I was leaving with my guy and friends to go down to San Diego for an AA dance/ball and was staying the night down there. It took me 2 hours to get ready and cost $50 to pick up something extra for my outfit. I looked amazing! Skip ahead to me laying in the middle of an alley in Studio City on the cold cement, wearing thigh high fish net stockings, boy shorts, and a corset. The details in between are not important. I really thought that this was it, that I was going to relapse. And I knew if I went out, there was no way in hell I ever wanted to sober up again. All I could think about was downing a beer in 10 seconds and moving on to calling one of my dealers to hook me up with an 8 ball for the night. Well, I got home and picked up my 2,000 pound cell phone to call my sponsor because I didn’t know what to do. My instinct and what comes naturally to me to deal with these feelings, is to drink. I knew that wasn’t right and needed to know what else I could do. She E-mails me a mini 4th step to do but I just couldn’t deal with that and ran off to a meeting instead which she said was just as good. Driving to that meeting was like I was learning to drive stick shift for the first time. It was soooo hard. All I wanted to do was head straight to the bar where a friend was bartending. Once the meeting started, I was the first to share by raising my now 2,000 pound hand. I didn’t want to but I knew I had to. I cried while I talked. And let me tell you something, God works in some crazy ass mysterious ways. Wow! Going to that meeting was so perfect. I heard every single thing I needed to hear. This night was supposed to happen this way. As much as it fucking sucked for a short time, I’m better now because of it. After talking to some old timers for the hour before the 2nd meeting started, I was amazed at how God had worked through the people in the 1st meeting and was now working through these two older men as I was talking to them. It was completely amazing! After the 2nd meeting, a few of us (all people I just met) decided to go hang out at a diner, then I gave a ride home to someone who needed it. As the night ended there, I realized I was happy again. Not only because I didn’t drink but because I used the tools I had to not drink and learned a new way to deal with my feelings. I was back in a good place in my heart and my mind. God’s plan or whatever it may be, is taking me places and I’m going to sit back and enjoy this adventurous ride!
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