Back to Work

Today is my first day back at work since the holidays began. I work from home as an IT consultant, which provides many opportunities for me to slack off, get distracted or in some cases let my addictions take over me.  I get my work done for the most part, and I still can prove valuable to my company, which is based 2 time zones away.

I don't slip up as much as I did in the past. But I slip up enough that it is still a very real problem, and enough that the addiction keeps a grip on me.  A few weeks ago I might have given myself a few pats on the back on how well I've managed my addiction given my circumstances, but now in a time of clarity I can see that it is just as bad as ever.

I can't ever remember having panic or anxiety attacks like I had this morning. Work was a whirlwind of activity, with emails, phone calls and tasks that needed to be done just to catch up. On top of that, my soul wanted to multi-task to figure out how I can save my marriage. However, it wasn't the usual type of multi-tasking, where you switch from one mindset to another rapidly.  It was as if my heart was thinking about the wife, divorce and addiction, while my brain tried its best to disconnect from all that and work on the tasks at hand.  It felt heavy on my body. I couldn't juggle it.

My heart doesn't usually do any thinking for me. It usually just sits there beating away, moving blood from one part of my body to the other. At least that's what I think hearts are supposed to do. I never listen to it, and it never bothers me.  My counsellor and therapist says that I live my life from the neck up, as if I were one of the preserved celebrity heads from Futurama.  It's true - I do, and I suppose I'll talk more about that in another post.

But today my heart was loud. It talked and it shouted. It shouted good things and bad things, but mostly bad.  Everything it said was nonsense and made sense at the same time. I couldn't do work at all. It was overwhelming and by 9:30 in the morning I broke down. I tried to reach out to a friend, but they were unavailable.

So I searched on Google and found some anxiety exercises that helped. And they helped. They were dumb, but they helped.

The rest of the day I worked as best I could.  My mind frequently wandered to compel me to act out in my addiction.  Attempts at meditation would turn into mini fantasy sessions. The urge to act out and indulge my addiction hasn't been this strong in a long time. I realize I've been white knuckling resisting the whole thing for hours now, and I'm exhausted.  I tried exercising, reading one of my 12 step books, and reaching out to as many people as I could who would listen - and I still find myself stuck in this room where the walls are closing in compelling me to give everything up.  So I'm writing this journal now while I'm on the clock at work to see if that helps.

I don't know if I'll be able to maintain sobriety with all this going on. Funny, you'd think sobriety would be easier when in a panic and with my motivation at an all time high. But sometimes I think when you're motivated and focused on the goal, you have a clearer picture of what mountains you have to climb - and you start to realize how big those mountains really are. You see the snow and ice, the crevices, the rocks, the hazards, and all the risks... so even if you're motivated, the option to give up seems so much easier and you might even convince yourself that it's the more logical path.

I know this addiction will never leave me. I know that every day fighting the addiction will seem like I'm Sisyphus rolling a large boulder up a hill only to have it roll down again and I'll have to start over again.  And again. And again. I know that it won't even be worth it if my goal is to have my wife and family back, because it won't happen.  The scary thing is that I know these things, but I don't know what the goal is for me other than sobriety itself.  The future is completely shrouded for me and the only thing I want right now I can't have.