Bonnie

Third Month...

Blog Post created by Bonnie on Mar 5, 2018

I can feel it right around the corner...double-checked my quit counter and yes, there it is, looming ahead.  I knew it was there, just by the way I felt...an underlying, nagging feeling of wanting SOMETHING that dogged me all weekend...a feeling that food treats, extra sleep, and other indulgences didn't chase away...not for long.

 

March came in like a lion last week but has settled down to being a frisky lamb--easy and breezy and a little brisk, and I feel the same today...feel like scampering through a green meadow with a daisy in my mouth...slightly rebellious and gypsy-free...feels good, but I have to be ever-watchful and onguard...that gypsy soul has gotten me into trouble before with the pied piper Nicotine, who lures me down the path of "F*** IT, I feel great...Why not?"  without a bit of guilt on his part...his sly grin belying his true nature...begone, dangerous devil!

 

And along with the sense of spring comes the identifiable longing---I blush to admit it, being far past my "prime" and as old as dirt, some would say--for romance.  I've been single and dateless for a long time, but the sap does rise in these still-limber limbs.  I found myself flirting with the nice younger man who drives the mobile library truck--oh my--he was kind and it was fun...oh well, I say to myself...oh well...you're just a harmless elder.  A little sad, but true.  At least I have the memories .

 

I know that the two emotions I need to watch for are anger and longing.  Anger has long ago turned into sadness and I shake off depression on a regular basis with exercise and gratitude, but the longing is more subtle.  I used to think, while heading toward a relapse, that the longing was for a cigarette.  Now I know that isn't true.  The longing is for so many other things...and the cigarette temporarily just numbed the pain.  And then I could focus on the guilt of relapse, while never facing and feeling the pain. Oh, the foolish and ridiculous cycle of addiction.  Where you never face anything, really, just run and hide in a temporary void which only adds to your anguish.

 

So...here I sit in my tiny house, eating my salad with lots of crunchies in it, exposing my feelings to you so that they don't fester inside because really, they're not so terrible, only human, and the lion and the lamb can both dwell in me...sometimes at peace, sometimes at war....but they never have to light up.

 

Peace be with you all,

Bonnie

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