Still withdrawing, but light growing at the end of the tunnel

Last night was bad. My fight with my friend came to a head; I had to tell her that I can't be in touch with her until she learns to aim her anger somewhere else besides at me. (Actually, she did; at almost the same time, she nearly kicked her boyfriend -- who is living with her -- out of her home, and he came to me desperate and in tears. He has an open invitation to sleep on my couch ... he could show up any time.) After all that, I was dazed. I wanted to cry, I needed to cry, but I couldn't. I should have called a friend, especially a program friend, but I didn't do that either. I let my shame about feeling so emotionally weak, and my shame about neglecting many of my friends, get in the way. I felt horribly isolated and alone, and so emotionally knotted up that I could hardly think. I got into bed quickly, but I slept pretty lousy. So I spent today tired, touchy, and emotionally hung over.

It would have been a great excuse for turning to the comfort of the TV, but somehow, through God's grace, I didn't. Come to think of it, I didn't even think about turning on the TV, either last night or today. I'm not turning to any of my worst addictions either, though I am still spending more time on the computer than I'd like, and eating things I shouldn't. But hey, I can only deal with so many addictions at a time.

As tough as today was, though, I also spent the day constantly aware of the benefits that I'm already getting from my abstinence. I'm getting a hell of a lot more done: cleaning and organizing, writing, reading, buying new camera gear (film cameras and accessories are dirt cheap on eBay these days), pulling together a meeting of tenants in my apartment complex, sleeping when I need to. There are more important things than all that that I still need to do -- tending to my business, groundwork on a second business, some critical financial things, getting my animals to the vet for annual tests and shots, and keeping up with some new socializing possibilities -- but I'm doing pretty well at not beating myself up over what I'm not accomplishing. Now, I want to do better with prioritizing and doing the most important and time-critical things first.

Today felt just as long as Monday, but not as uncomfortably so. I'm pulling free of my attachment to the TV schedule, less aware of what's on the tube that I'm "missing." I'm shifting back to a better sleep schedule -- about midnight to 8 AM, instead of 3 AM (gotta catch those reruns of Cheers, even though I've seen most of them 20 times) to 11 AM. And I'm feeling less addicted, less "hooked." The hooked feeling is hard to describe. It's almost like being in a trance: eyes a bit glazed over, mind glazed over too -- the time sort of drifting along, and my attention floating back and forth from the computer to the TV. And then when it's finally time to turn off the TV and go to bed, I come out of the trance. That has almost a physical impact: the emptiness and loneliness pile back on top of me, along with the realization of how much time I've pissed away -- AGAIN -- and how many of the things I needed to do, I didn't.

Thank you, God. Again. I can't say that enough times. I didn't achieve this abstinence on my own. It's your grace, your gift to me. I'm doing my damnedest to honor your gift by using it well.