Synchronized Living

“Let’s be heroes, let’s be martyrs, let’s be radical thinkers
Who never have to test drive the least of their dreams”

“Love Ire and Song” Frank Turner

Y’all ain’t gonna believe this shit… I don’t believe any of it. I’m not into anything mystical. I wanted to be way back when I was in single digit years. I remember it was 2nd grade, I never slept. I had an AM radio but all I listened to was static between stations. I thought it was aliens communicating with me. I don’t believe that anymore.

I do believe in synchronicity; not minor coincidences that happen all the time; major shit that is just undeniable for me when I am on the right path (in the flow). I only believe it because it is the strangest thing I have ever experienced. I don’t go around looking for it. I’ve only been overwhelmed by it a few times in my life. This whole summer has been one of those times. After I set the intention to make positive changes in my life. The coincidence was a negative choice but it led to a positive. I want to write all of it at once but the biggest one culminated last night.

I didn’t realize at the time I started planning my relapse a few months ago. I was conscious of it, I was taking deliberate actions, I wrote about it in several posts. Sometimes I was saved by dumb luck and others I caught myself by thinking it through and knowing there was no way this could end well. I knew what I was doing/ I didn’t know what I was doing. It was cognitive dissonance.

Back the point. It started while I was still trying to find people, places and things that didn’t revolve around drinking. I did a search and couldn’t find anything but I did see Frank Turner was playing at the Casino in Hampton and bought tickets on impulse. But what is he doing there? He’s from England and I don’t know anyone who has heard of him. I only like 3 of his songs but I really like them. They would be on my deserted island list. Only because when I first heard them I thought, if I had any talent I would have written these songs. I was wondered if I wanted to go because I they serve booze. But, no, I thought I was still sticking to the plan. I wasn’t having any thoughts about drinking. I told myself I can go to a concert and not drink. (Yeah, right) Still, he got straight, he even has a song called “Recovery”. But I don’t like that song. The songs I like are from when he was still using. I mostly forgot about it. But now I realize I lit a slow burning fuse that led to a huge explosion months later.

Another small coincidence was it wasn’t until after I finished the post about the chick I started texting while she was at an atheist retreat. (still don’t get that) She was the one who turned me on to Frank Turner. That’s no big deal, I was probably subconsciously reminded of her. That’s not the fucked up part.

Last night was the fucked up part. I never thought about attending an online meeting. It wasn’t until I was wondering why I couldn’t commit to the idea of a lifetime of abstinence. I came across the paper I had read a hundred times this summer and it was one of the major coincidences. I had always glossed over it because, I’m not a perfectionist. Come to my apartment and you will see. I don’t need to have everything, “Just right”. But it was the fear of failure part that never clicked. The parts of my life that are important to me are the ones I need to go according to plan. If they don’t, I failed. I put a lot of effort into it and I failed. I didn’t live up to the standards I set and then I start kicking the living shit out of myself.

I got sidetracked. A lot of the coincidences were the quick internet searches I would do when I noticed patterns I wanted to change. I would look up how do I change (whatever) and find out I am already doing the right things. (Still off track) The biggest one was “dealing with perfectionism.” I wasn’t thinking about addiction but the article I found talked about it. It said a high percentage of addicts are perfectionists. That made sense to me; no big revelation. Then it said it is the most dangerous combination because they are the most likely to believe they can solve their problem themselves. That is exactly my problem. I still wasn’t going to try the meeting! I’m thinking, I got this wrapped like a mummy. You know the story.

Oh yeah, the fucked up part. I’ve been thinking about the Frank Turner concert and how it probably was an excuse to get drunk. I figured I would have to tear up the tickets if they ever get here in the mail. It would be a waste of $80 but it could turn into a waste of a lot more if I go. (Again) Yesterday, I was depressing and casting a negative light on everything. I knew I have a lot of positives in my life. I’ve been writing them down and keeping them specific and believable. Sometimes I read through it to remind myself. Yesterday I tried and I had a counter-argument for all of it. I disqualified everything. I knew I was doing it so I tried all day to contest it. I started feeling better as the day went on. I was practicing all my healthy coping skills and trying new ones.

(Still in suspense?) Last night I was writing my blog and looked at the clock and thought, cool, I’ll be finished around 10pm, I’ll head over to the store and pick up some beer. Wait a minute! Back the truck up. How did that become the plan? That’s not what I’ve been doing. It’s not a new habit. It still sounded perfectly reasonable. I can’t do that. I was right, I finished at 9:40, time to walk to the store. Seriously? I did everything right today and now I’m going to reward myself by fucking shit up. Cancel that plan. If there is one of those meetings tonight, I’ll log on. I checked the schedule and the next one started at ten. Cool, I’ll just log in and wait. The first 2 times I logged in early, there was a graphic saying they would start soon. Last night, I clicked “join” 20 minutes early and a video was playing and it was blasting. (Do you know where I’m going with this?) It was Frank Turner, “Recovery”! No fucking way! It makes sense because the songs and other clips they were playing were based on that theme. But this song? By this guy who is not very popular? Still makes sense, but that’s where it turned for me months ago. Buy tickets was a deliberate action and I knew I was going to get fucked up if I went and the show isn’t until October 10th! Am I supposed to go and stay sober? Probably not a good idea.

More fucked up shit. They started the meeting asking you to click on the poll if it was your 1st, 2nd, or 3rd meeting. I was one of 11 people out of 200 and something. He asked if anyone wanted to briefly say why they are here. I certainly didn’t! So why did I start the meeting with my camera on even though I’m paranoid about being facially recognized and why did I just unmute myself and rattle off a quick spiel? That is not me. At the beginning the let the people suggest topics and one was what to do after a relapse. That applied to me, I did it again and talked about my problem being afraid to commit because if I drink, I beat myself up for being failure but if I do what most people say, “everyone makes mistakes, get back on track and learn from it” aren’t I giving myself permission to fuck up? He said it sounded like I had a problem with unconditional self acceptance. I started thinking, I don’t know anything about this program other than the basics. Maybe I should have read some of their website. I did “what to do before your first meeting.” The answer? Read about what they call “Tools”. Okay, the first one was, “Unconditional self acceptance”, Still making sense. But the whole fucking thing is what I have been tossing around for the past month. Dealing with feelings of hopelessness and making myself feel worthless. Basic shit, no revelations but I know exactly where they are going with this… “Perfectionism”. Maybe I stumbled onto something here. Some of the major coincidences this summer were I’ve been getting really fucking lucky. Something else I don’t believe in. But I’ve been dodging bullets I’ve intentionally been trying to shoot at myself.

Are you ready for more? I am. I have been relieved because my mania has settled down during the past week and I haven’t crashed into any deep depression. I slept for a few hours last night and when I woke up I was “Top Fuel” again. I turned on the tap to start the coffee and the power went out. Good! I don’t need any coffee. It’s another perfect day, I should get the fuck out of here. I can ride my bike again. Where? Nowhere…

Sit down. No power, no computer, no television. Cool, I charged my tablet last night. No wifi! I can still text and I did. I even texted, N____, not out of the ordinary but I figured she was still sleeping. She wasn’t, she had an appt. I asked her what she was doing later. Then I realized why I wanted to get out of the house so fast. I wanted to race over there and tell her all this fucked up shit going on all summer. I luckily I thought twice. I can’t do that. I’ll be trying to get it all out in 5 minutes, talking so fast I’m foaming at the mouth. All summer long she is the only one who knows I’m manic. I’ve only seen her in person a few times, I’m no over texting her. She keeps telling me I’m manic.

I’m getting to it. In the beginning of July, I blasted out 3 pages in the early hours and waited for her to wake up. I texted and asked who she sees. Why? She wants to know… Since the akathisia shit started I’ve been taking notes and I went through them and typed them all up and I need a professional who doesn’t know me to give me an opinion. She told me that is something I would have to do on my own. Then she said, This is what you do when you are manic. You take notes, you write everything down. When I would do your laundry I would find scraps of paper with scribbles all over them in your pockets. Read what you typed, I bet it doesn’t make any sense. She was right.

That’s not the fucked up part. The scraps of paper. Those were the poems I’ve been posting lately. I don’t write poetry anymore. It’s all from 20 years ago. I would be somewhere, I put it all together in my head. I have to find a pen and something to write on. I don’t read poetry, why am I writing it? I typed them up, put them in a folder. I read them once in a while, only a few people have seen them. They made sense to me. Now, 20 years later, some of them are cheesy but others hit me hard.

What else? That empath woman. Why was I going to spend cash on an Uber to travel all that way to meet her. She wrote 3 paragraphs of shit I don’t believe in. When I wrote a comment saying sorry it will be too expensive to get there, I didn’t hear back and forgot about it. A couple weeks ago she sent me an email saying she also does a group online. That was when I was still against Zoom. I said I don’t know maybe next month, I’ll be able to make it in person. Why did I say that? If I went last time it would have been just the two of us. What would we talk about? I guess synchronicity. She didn’t mention it but it seems right up her alley. Am I supposed to meet her? I don’t believe in fate.

After she wrote the email I checked her page and noticed only a few people had left comments. One of them was M____, my empath friend. Of course she was there 2 years ago! She used to piss me off so much talking about that shit. And the numbers. She would sit there and watch the clock until it hit 2:22 and say that’s strange, I’ve been seeing that a lot lately. She pumped $22.22 worth of gas into her car and made a big deal out of that. I’m just like , will you please shut up. I know how many times a day numbers repeat on a clock. It’s not that unusual. I kept it to myself because I liked her and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

Last month, I thought it was funny, I jumped up and just had to leave the house, I glance at the clock and it was 2:22. I laughed to myself thinking how she would like that and it was the first time I had thought about her for a while. But when I walked back in the door the first thing I saw was the clock on the stove telling me it was 3:33. I still don’t believe in it but something is going on in my brain.

There is a lot more but I can’t remember most of it. I wanted to go on about the last time I had it this strong when I was in my twenties but this is getting pretty long and I think it would add another 2,000 words and I imagine I’ve lost everyone by now.

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