Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Stupid Shit

There is so MUCH stupid shit in my life right now that I have to write. I have to vent. I have to purge. I have to get it out or it will eat me alive. So for today, here are a couple. I am certain I will have more.

Stupid Shit Thing #1: Sex Inventories

For those of you not familiar with the 12-Step process, the Sex Inventory is part of the 4th Step (Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.) In the Sex Inventory, one makes a list of people with whom you have actually had sex or ever wanted to have sex or ever even thought about having sex.

And I used to have a list. I was proud of the list because I could look at it and say, quite sanctimoniously, that I never had sex with anyone that I didn't know their first and last name. I don't know what happened to the list. But it's gone. Along with my sanctimony. And a good deal of my self respect. What is left is a list with many of the names intact, but there are a few that escape me.

Maybe that's for the best.

In the inventory, we list the person and the reason and the circumstance. While there are lots of names, there is really only one reason and one circumstance. I was drunk and I wanted someone to love me.

And I'm fairly disgusted with myself.

And guess what - It was hard. It was scary. It was painful.

But here's the thing - even though I put it on my "Stupid Shit" list, now that it's done, I recognize the value in having done it (no pun intended). I can't move forward until I am willing to look at where I have been. There's no room for a sane future until I "clear away the wreckage of the past." So, here I am, clearing away.

Stupid Shit Thing #2: My Former Supposed Spouse

My Former Supposed Spouse (FSS) is currently incarcerated and so along with everything else, I am also a single parent to two beautiful little boys, ages 6 and 4.

The FSS does not believe that his unfortunate incarceration has had any effect on his children.

I beg to differ.

When the 4-year-old and I got home from his first day of preschool, he told me we were going to play a game and the game was called "Jail." He was the cop. I was the bad guy. He put the fake handcuffs on me and led me to my room where he informed me that I was now in "jail" and had to stay there until he said otherwise. He did take the handcuffs off and did tell me I could still use my phone, smoke my cigarettes, and use the bathroom when I needed to.

No effect, huh? Yeah. Whatever.

I'm trying REALLY hard to find a positive way to spin this so that it doesn't drive me crazy. My child has an AMAZING imagination. He tells me the MOST amazing stories. This is the first time this particular tale has played out and it just about broke my heart.


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