Life in Hell

What I know about the situation is that I placed myself in it, for starters, so I have no business complaining about it or being so butt-hurt. I also know how to solve the problem of wallowing in self-pity and resentment. I know how to mend the pain of being sore at myself. But apparantly, at the moment anyway, I am unwilling or unable to pick up those tools and put them to work. I imagine that tells me that I'm getting some sort of reward out of this being miserable which is a perverse idea so it shouldn't surprise me.

I went to court yesterday to be sentenced for a probation violation. If I had not violated I would have been off probation in like 10 more months.

Now I have 5 more years.

200 hours of community service to do within a year and 5 more years of being on probation in a state that doesn't allow me to leave except by special permission and only to go be with immediate family. Which means I'm here, in this state I can't stand, where I don't believe I'll ever have a boyfriend, where there are no opportunities unless you really like hunting or fishing or are a Mormon or a Republican, for five more M*$#er F@&$(*g years.

I seriously, at least at the moment, think I'd rather die. And unfortunately, because I placed myself in this position, it validates every rotten thing I already think about myself and every reason I think carrying on is not worth it. I know that is my disease talking. I know this too shall pass. But it won't pass till I'm fourty f-ing eight years old. Till then I'm trapped in a mean, nasty republican cultural wasteland trying to protect myself from my past and from my drunken mother.

What is stupider is that if they hadn't made it a requirement I probably wouldn't feel this way. I'd probably end up here for five more years anyway. And this feeling is so overwhelming, particularly on my 11th consecutive Valentine's Day without a companion or any prospect of one, that I'm afraid if I said what was really going on in my head I'd be locked up for my own good. In case anyone needs me I'll be hiding in my room, crying, praying for the willingness to do the work.

More than just counting the notches on the bed post . . .

Yes. I'm talking about sex inventory. I've been procrastinating on that final part of my 4th step and I am sure the reason is something more than that I am lazy. God gives us what we need when we need it, right? So it must be time. When I went to bed a couple of nights ago the parade of men that have waltzed, raced, smashed their way through my life suddenly took and held my thoughts for hours. I've been having trouble remembering things recently, things like what time I have to go to work, but that night I remembered the name of the man I lost my virginity to. "Lost" is really the wrong word. Killed and buried in the night without remorse is more accurate.

Then came the one I loved and, I believe, the only one who loved me; the one year summit of my success at relationships. That bitter-sweet memory was quickly followed with my 21 year history of mistakes of varying magnitude; the one who liked to beat me up, the one I used for his money, the woman I married, and the years and years spent one month here, two months there; wrestling with men who never quite fit. Finally, perhaps most importantly, the IFX. I never knew that I could hurt that bad. I never knew that, to me, love feels like loneliness, loss, abuse and a warm body. His disappearance on my birthday was the turning point for me. That pain and that prayer delivered me to the place where God gave me my first step.

I've found my pen. I've got out my Big Book and notebook. And now I'm going to balk over the whole thing for another few hours while I go see a movie. Because I'm a spiritual giant. Not. I haven't picked it up because I'm afraid and ashamed and I lack faith that God will lead me to better things. There. I said it. But I believe with my whole heart that God has a plan, a purpose and a destiny for me to grow, however haltingly, in His own likeness and image and that means doing the work. So I'll do the work. I'll let you know how it turns out.