The Fallout

Well, normal was nice while it lasted…..

Actually, I haven’t slipped into a depression so much as I’m still upset about what has happened, and certainly rueful over my response to it. I also realize that overmedicating took away the pain for only a night, and that the problem itself still exists. Wasn’t that the thing I’ve spent the last twenty-two years figuring out? Damn.

I am NOT looking forward to discussing this with my pdoc next Monday. Even though I didn’t technically violate abstinence—I didn’t drink, after all—the intent (and the result) was the same, and for that I am deeply ashamed. Over two decades of complete sobriety, and I blew it over a stupid Facebook post that should never have seen the light of day. WTF was I thinking??!

The fact that it was put out there by someone I never suspected would stoop to such a despicable act doesn’t excuse what I did. People get slammed and have their weaknesses aired on social media every day; it’s not worth the self-flagellation I’m doing to assuage my guilt over scaring my family. I have to move on and learn from this.

I also have to barricade myself from further injury, even though the offender is someone I trusted implicitly. But one of my saving graces is a strong self-protective instinct formed early in childhood, during which I was emotionally abused by a mother who I’ve come to believe was every bit as bipolar as I.

Although I love heartily and unconditionally, I’ve always reserved a little room in my soul that’s just for me, and that’s where I go to protect myself when I’m wounded. Every now and again the walls of this room weaken somewhat, and a few of the slings and arrows life throws at me begin to penetrate them; now it’s time to work on reinforcing them. And I can’t do that if there’s a civil war going on between my addictive personality and my best self.

So it’s time to put away the guilt and begin anew. As the saying goes, Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that crushed it. I’ll start the process by confessing to my doctor and my priest, and then I will forgive—both the person who injured me, and myself as well.

But it will be a long time before I trust either of us again.