Early riser

There’s this meeting  I used to go to. I think I was around 9 months sober (my second round of sobriety) and my then sponsor took me to this meeting. I had been invited to this meeting before then but I refused. Get up at 7am for a damn meeting?! And do what exactly? Listen to people complain about their pathetic lives. Yeah, no. Fuck that.

Today I can breathe a sigh of relief because I’m here. At a meeting. At 7am. The thing about meetings is it gives me a moment to be still. I get to listen to people who have the same concerns as me and who have gotten through those problems. I over think and over think and I drown in a tsunami of my worries. I come to a meeting and I get away from those thoughts for an hour. I get to take a mini vacation away from the anxiety I hold onto. I learn about what SOLUTION is available to me instead of focusing on how to figure out my own problems. I come to a meeting and hear about how someone has already experienced and worked through a similar problem as my own.

The skills I have picked up as a result of my 12 step program are things I apply in my daily life. What it all honestly comes down to is not being a self centered prick.

Here at this particular meeting, one of the best parts is watching the sunrise. When I first started coming to this meeting I came in my pajamas every single day. I didn’t understand how people showed up fully clothed, hair dry, shirts buttoned, shit some people even curled their hair. Like what the fuck did you wake up at 4am?! I would sit their in my pajamas and would try hard to keep my eyes open to hear something, anything that was going to give me a little hope to go on with my day. I don’t know what I was looking for or what I was going to get but everyday I kept coming back because when I left the room I left lighter. I smiled a bit. I would chuckle. I would feel like my shoulders weren’t holding the weight of the world on them.

One morning while someone was sharing and going on about something problematic she paused in the middle of her share and said, “Wow…….. the sunrise is really beautiful right now.” I looked outside and I don’t remember anything else she said. I just remember the red sky and I thought, I’m glad I’m alive to see this. It had been a while since I had that sort of thought run through my head.
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See the thing about the program that I grossly underestimated was that I wouldn’t fit in. I didn’t drink enough. I wasn’t mean enough. I didn’t have a low enough bottom. I wasn’t super desperate. I came in because I didn’t want to drink anymore. I wanted to be healthy, you know not spend all my money on drinks and hopefully loose some weight along the way. I wasn’t looking to work on myself per say. I wasn’t trying to take action in my life I just wanted to be a little better at life to get the things I wanted.

This hard spell I’m going through right now SUCKS. It is awful but I get to walk through it sober and not questioning if I’m doing something to attribute to how I’m feeling. I don’t have to ask, Am I feeling this way because of how much I’m drinking? Do I feel this way because I’m lying to myself in my relationship? Am I feeling this way because I did too many drugs this weekend? It can change your life for sure. To not have to consistently be conflicted about whether or not you’re fucking up. However, at the root, it’s just easier to live this way.

You know, sometimes life just gets hard and there isn’t actually a reason. There might not even be a lesson. The only lesson life offers is: If you can get through this, then it’s likely you’ll be able to get through the next bump in the road. It’s like a long ass baseball game and right now I’m at the plate ready to swing.

Xoxo,

Al

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Author:

I am a 26 year old Japanese American queer cis female who is from the bay area and currently lives in Portland, Oregon with her pitbull named Yuki. She is my pride and joy. I have been sober since 2014 and started to work in the sex industry in December 2016. We moved to Portland about 4 years ago in 2013 and have been learning how to thrive in this grey, wet, yet charming environment of Portland. Three things attracted me to this magic nook on the west coast. Tree tunnels (as I like to call them) that tower over roads swallowing you into a tube of nature, people’s tendency to look you in the eye and ask how you’re doing (with expectation of a genuine answer), and tea houses/coffee shops are a past time here. They say this is the city where 20 year olds come to retire or the city of refugee weirdos who just didn’t quite fit in. My diagnosis of Portland is the city that embraces those who love to isolate and be awkward so if hiding out in your room to geek out on your blog or simply drink tea in your room all day is your thing I suggest you check out what the fuss is about in Portlandia. Although Portland is whimsical in it’s own right it has a major amends to make to it’s citizens of color. It’s been here that I’ve learned the most about activism and politics unfortunately as a result of the city’s non acknowledgement of all of their citizens. The citizens here although progressive in it’s own way participates in it’s own subtle yet powerful microaggressions daily. The city is vanilla to put it lightly. When I am not day dreaming of sunnier days you can find me in a tea shop rambling in my journal about the romantic fantasy of hopping a train or living out of a van, admiring baby doll heads and crooked picture frames, watering my indoor plants desperately trying to learn how to have a green thumb, geeking out on astrology charts, obsessing over Michael Jackson and screaming all his songs, flooding my earphones with Princess Nokia to CocoRosie to Mac Dre to name my top favorites, going to strip clubs, crying, praying, attending pole dancing class and learning a variety of ways to make my beautiful backside bounce, holding hands, blowing bubbles, dismantling the patriarchy, writing a story, a poem or working on a zine. My blog has no rhyme or reason but you may find some of those influences as themes in within my posts. What I do hope to do with my blog is expose myself vulnerably if nothing else as an act of leaving behind a documented record of my human-ness but the truest hope, dream in fact, is to help someone out there to feel less alone. I hope that through my ability to candidly share my rawest sense of self I can help build an online community of witches, activists, freedom fighters, freaks, mermaids, pretty boys, studly girls, theys, and thems.

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