Tears in the Tanning Bed

I went to the tanning salon tonight on my way home from work. I cried the entire time I was in there. I guess it was the only place I could do that. Oh, who knows why I feel the way I do? I could give you a list of reasons, but nothing has changed from 3 weeks ago when I felt just fine. Except a couple of weeks ago someone really did something under-handed to me at work and I seem to be having difficulty not letting it color my entire world.

Oh, and I hurt my back over the weekend doing something so incredibly stupid - I have trained for months to do this half-marathon on Saturday. I have spent hundreds of, if not a thousand or more, dollars on a chiropractor to get my back healthy so that I can run. I was finally without pain last week. And in two hours in my back yard, I undid all of that and have been in pain ever since. I can tell you that in the scheme of things I don't care that much about weeds in my back yard. The half-marathon? I care deeply about that. So, why did I do this? This morning when I should have been running, I went back to bed.

I will try to see if I can spend another $60 tomorrow to see my chiropractor - perhaps she can get me straightened back out. That could happen.

I could tell you more things that are contributing to this sense of ill-being, but there is no point. So, because I usually have readers each day who need an encouraging word, this is the best I can do today...

I am an alcoholic, and I am extremely unhappy right now. The thought of a drink has not ONCE entered my mind.

I have been able to still make all my commitments, even though I would rather tell everyone to find some other sucker, I have shown up with a smile on my face.

On Sunday, I am getting on a train and will spend eight hours getting to the other side of the state. My sponsor will pick me up at the station and I will get to spend 36 or so hours with her.

Deep in my heart, I know that "this too shall pass." I have been here before and I know it is a transient place. I also know that my sense of well-being is not an accurate gauge of my real well-being. I may be drawing closer to God and it may hurt like hell. Sometimes we think that all spiritual experiences should FEEL good, and in my experience, they don't. Maybe I am just having a selfish fit, maybe I am not. No one who knows me thinks I am, but I seldom rule that one out right away.

I am going to have some popcorn for dinner now. And I am going to put real melted butter on it. (and then I will have something in my stomach when I take my fish oil)

Do you all know about Rule #62? I think I need to pay some attention to that one right now.

"Don't take yourself too damn seriously." Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 149