Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Junkie

A close friend called last night and took me to task -- gently, a little bit -- for leaving my blog readers dangling for a month. I'm sorry. I've been on a bender of pain and finding ways to dodge the pain.

I start my days wondering whether it's a Klonopin day (if my heart is beating fast and my stomach is fluttering at the thought of leaving the house, leaving bed), or a codeine day (if my heart is in my throat and I've got to try to show up. Some days I use those drugs, other days I get back in bed as soon as possible, or I zone out on computer games or, of course, at night, sugar.

The other day I realized I was really and truly poisoning myself with sugar. I was dashing to the toilet a half dozen times a day, shaking like a leaf and so, so tired. I have a very fragile few days' reprieve and my energy is a bit better as are my visits to the bathroom.

But each of the last three mornings would have been a codeine morning had I chosen to swig some back. Let me explain that my reaction to codeine is a muffling of bad feelings and a slight heightening of good ones. It's also dangerous if not taken with a lot of water, on a full stomach. And one of the reasons I'm making an effort to reign in my food is that my new shrink commented on Saturday that it's no wonder I'm so tired: I'm hanging onto the cliff above all the grief, fear, anger and love that I need to go through that it's exhausting. He's right. So I'm trying to get rid of the sugar/flour & let myself fall off the cliff, as frightening as that is.

My poor friend who prodded this entry: she got to hear a shard of the abandonment by my family and my fright over Christmas alone with my father. There are other things gnawing my insides as well. I don't have a good feeling about the fate of this book. I know of an adoption going on and my birthday is soon -- I want to write a letter to that baby to tell it how special it is. I've started work on a new book proposal and, wouldn't you know, despite it not being particularly about me, I hit a spot where I'd have to talk about how apart I've always been from my family: dead halt. Nor am I sure I want to write that book. There is a boy on the far, far periphery of my life that I try hard to keep behind my dinky fake Christmas tree on a high shelf who has fallen off the shelf a few times. My favorite aunt died a month after my mother did.

I don't even know where to start letting myself feel this stuff although I'm weepy as I write this.

There have been wondrous things as well, of course. I've discovered a branch of my family who care unjudgmentally about me, who are hilarious, literate, interesting. I spoke with the cousin my age about my aunt's brief illness and that little contact with a cousin I've always looked up to was marvelous. Hero's dad took Daisy and me pheasant hunting. Daisy put up a flight of crows, found a dead pheasant and played nicely with a pheasant from the freezer, her repugnance to feathers a one-off before she caught on. I watched how much fun she had following Hero's lead into the brush, how well she took my commands to go with Uncle S., and her concern when I lagged too far behind. I saw about 95% of what a Lab is all about that day.

I've spent masses of money creating a wardrobe for my hoped-for publicity, mostly in browns (a bright color will really add pounds; black is what is expected of authors, fat women and New Yorkers) & I've assembled a couple of calendars for gifts and a raffle item that were absorbing, amusing projects. I want to start my last calendar, for the Labs, today.

And, after two months of being unable to concentrate on much, I'm sick of chick lit and can, with certainty, say that the only writers in the genre truly worth reading are Helen Fielding and Marian Keyes.

But I've been in heroin zombie mode except for those times I had to get it together, and exhausted from the effort afterward. I keep thinking of first lines of this blog but fall into pointlessness almost as quickly as I think of them.

Fingers crossed that I stay clean. I've got Christmas to do, dogs coming out of my ears, and vegetables to chop.

13 comments:

Anne M. said...

I'm so glad you came out to let us know what's going on in your life. You are still in deep wells of sorrow and it's normal. There is not a timetable to "get over" grief, and you're juggling so many painful and/or uncertain things that no wonder it all seems so dark.

Good job on recognizing the need to get rid of the sugar, and for taking steps to make it happen. You know what to do and how, but awareness of the need comes first.

Looking forward to seeing you soon to celebrate your birthday at the Christmas fair - and maybe massages in Chinatown?

Anonymous said...

I hope that at some point you can let go and just feel--angry, sad, whatever is there. Good luck, and take care.

Cindy said...

Every day, at least once a day, I click on the link to your blog and hope, as I scroll down, to see a new entry pop into view. Tonight, it happened. What a relief...I was afraid you'd stop blogging and I would miss you, so please don't.

I, too, am trying to kick the sugar habit (different stressors, same reaction). IT IS SO-O-O HARD!!! And painful (splitting headache painful). I will keep trying. I know I need to save myself and I am the only one who CAN, but I am so afraid of failing that even trying can be paralyzing. Oy!

Welcome back, Frances. I've missed you...

Anonymous said...

I also log on hoping to find an entry. Just wanted to let you know that hearing about your experienced with your family, as painful as they have been have been really helpful for me in understanding my relationships with my own family members.

Anonymous said...

I have missed your posts and have been wondering how you are doing. Thanks for the update. I wish I had some wise words or sage advice to offer you...but I don't. I am pulling for you, though, and hope you know that there are people out here that care.

JMo

Anonymous said...

Another so glad you posted an update; I've checked daily.

Seeing shimmery glints of hope in the cracks of so much sadness you must bear....

I'm so sorry for your losses and your grief. Wishing you hope & peace.
C/

Anonymous said...

Another so glad you posted an update; I've checked daily.

Seeing shimmery glints of hope in the cracks of so much sadness you must bear....

I'm so sorry for your losses and your grief. Wishing you hope & peace.
C/

Anonymous said...

Everything comes if a man will only wait........................................

Cindy...154 said...

Thank goodnes you posted. I was geting worried! I have a nice wardrobe of brown, myself. I discovered the beauty of browns in the beginning of my weight loss.
It sounds like the new shrink may be helpful, and the new relationships, too. Happy holidays!

sooz said...

I just finished your book "Passing for Thin." I'm looking forward to "Angry Fat Girlz."

My mother was in OA for years and relapsed after she had lost many pounds. It wasn't until 3 years prior to her death that she went back and took all measures to become sober. Her last 3 years were ones of serenity and contentment. I'm so grateful she had them. Thank you for writing the book my mother would have loved to read. I told my sisters I was sure she was reading it along with me.

My mother died August 2008 at age 71 due to a hemorrhagic stroke, likely the after affects of her many years of compulsive eating. My condolences on your losing your mother. I am still grieving myself.

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