in my head

In My Head

I’ve been pacing around in circles all day, barely paying attention to anything around me. My oldest is over for the weekend, but we haven’t spoken much. I’m not eating well and I’m running on coffee and Hydroxyzine.

I’m in my head, and it’s dark inside.

I’m still waiting for texts that don’t come. I have nightmares about my ex. The weekends are generally the worst. There are long stretches of time between meetings and without the distraction that work provides, I have a hard time. I don’t want to call my sponsor. I don’t even really want to be awake right now, but sleeping is hard too when every hour is interrupted with a horror show.

I read a chapter out of the Big Book of AA. It provides distraction for 15 minutes. Then it’s back to pacing. Heavy sighs drop like bombs. Sitting is difficult. TV doesn’t hold my interest. Music reminds me of things I’d rather not think about right now. An outing for some photography yielded little workable results and is frustrating.

I want to talk, but I also want to keep my mouth shut. I want to cry, but can’t seem to muster the energy. I want my friend back, but I also know the pain is too great to even face that right now, and so I sulk. And I sigh. And I do another lap around the first floor. I check for messages again, futile.

Another lap around the house.

An hour has passed.

I’m still in my head.

It’s dark in there.

Old timers tell me that the enemy is between my ears. Perhaps they are right. Thinking doesn’t seem to be doing me any favors, but it’s difficult to stop the tapes. They start so quickly. Even a particular smell sends me off again, replaying and reanalyzing the could have beens. Nobody outside of a program gets it. “Just snap out of it, Josh.” they tell me.

Yeah, I’m glad you’ve got my solution all figured out. Thanks.

On the other hand, writing, perhaps, is one solution. Dumping my brain out onto the web helps. I hope somebody reading it can relate. It’s important to know that as lonely as we feel, we are truly not alone in this.

I know I’ll come out of my head eventually. I know that the darkness passes. I know that sometimes it seems overwhelming and almost too much, but I also know that I can get through it without drinking. One thing at a time; writing, reading, talking, a meeting. The moments do pass, even if at the pace of an eternity, and then things get a little better.

Then a little more.

I can’t wait to get out of my head, where it’s not so dark.

Joshua

Joshua admitted his life had become unmanageable on April 24, 2016. He regularly attends A.A. meetings and by the grace of God, is allowed to pour his heart and soul into co-parenting his three children.