Sea Isle City 2017: Day 6 (Thursday)
For the first time since I have been on vacation, I did not isolate… at least fully. I spent some time working on my one article, even though my focus was horrific for some reason today. I just could not focus. My boyfriend and I talked about leaving and coming home today, but we ended up staying. Even though I am pretty homesick, I am glad we decided to stay in a way. I actually had a decent time today.
I am one of the most self-conscious people that I know, but I still put a bathing suit on. My boyfriend, Mike, and I went to grab some ice cream sometime in the afternoon and then walked to the beach. I was glad I talked myself into it. Summer if most definitely not my favorite season, but I love the sound of the ocean which makes it all worth it for me. I find it relaxing. I attempted to go in the water, but it was too cold for my liking.
We didn’t stay quite as long as I had planned on, but it was long enough for me. The group that we were with, were mainly all drinkers, so I was kind of like the odd man out. You never really pay attention to how much people actually drink until you’re the only one there not sipping on something. I just started to feel left out again… I just felt like I was maybe too young to be giving up drinking just yet since everyone else that was there was roughly my age and they all seemed to be doing just fine. I know I was just trying to justify it in my head and make excuses as to why I should be able to have a drink, and I get that now, but I can’t always stop the thoughts as they come.
I really am feeling pretty homesick though, and I miss my puppy like crazy. I think I have like separation anxiety from being away from my dog. I am just glad my mom was able to watch Max for me while I went on vacation. I don’t think I would have been able to trust anyone else with him. I know he is only a dog, and this is probably going to sound crazy, but Max is literally like a baby to me and I am so worried that when I leave here, he is not going to want to come to me, or even come back home. That maybe he is happier, and maybe even better off at my mom’s. I don’t think my thought process is normal. He is more than just a dog to me though. I was told I can’t have kids, so he is a kid to me. I am one of those proud pet parents.
I wish I would have utilized my time here better. Went to the beach more, got more sun. Did something. I don’t know. I feel like I wasted my entire time being so wrapped up in my writing and worrying about staying sober so much that I was unable to have fun. I did a few things here and there that may be classified as “fun” but not much. I isolated so much. However, I honestly do not think I would have been able to stay sober if I would have gone to all the dinner parties, and totally submerged myself in the whole socialization aspect like I have done every other year that I’ve come here. It’s definitely been a challenge for me.
I can’t help but wonder how long I am going to have to feel like this for. How long does the struggle sensation last? I don’t want to feel like I am battling something for the rest of my life. It’s bad enough that I have to battle mental illness until the day that I die, and now I have to do the recovering addict thing too? Forever? How long is forever? Will the temptations ever fully go away? I don’t know if I have it in me to fight this war forever because forever is a long time. I know… one day at a time. I can’t help but look at the full view of the picture at times though, but logically I also know that if I am looking at the bigger picture, I am missing a few of the closer details than. If that makes any sense.
I guess it’s just that sometimes the thought of the words “forever” or “never” scare me sometimes. I try not to use them or think about them. But they still randomly pop up inside of my head occasionally, no matter how hard I try to fight them off.
I miss the feeling of being able to get trashed, or high, and being able to just get out of my own head, even if it was just for a little while. That was usually the whole purpose as to why I would love to get so screwed up. I don’t know if that’s why people without mental illnesses drink or use, but I know that is why I used to use. It was basically like self-medicating. I hate being trapped inside my own head half the time. It isn’t the nicest place to be a majority of the time.
I have moments where I know I have made the right choice to get clean. Then I have the moments where I feel like I have made the worst mistake of my life because nothing is worth having to sit and deal with these emotional issues that sometimes arise. Then there are the mixed moments where I am totally undecided. I get mixed emotions about a lot of things in my life, but I guess that tends to happen a lot when you are bipolar.
Sometimes being stuck in my own head feels like I am being pulled under this giant, crushing, ocean wave, and I cannot breathe. It feels like I am suffocating, slowing drowning and getting pulled under over and over again. And every time I think I start to see the surface, another wave crashes over and I just get pulled further down, still suffocating, until my lungs ache and burn without oxygen. It’s like you know you’re slowly dying, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. You just stare and panic and everything goes blank. Being stuck in my head gets that severe at times; like it gets so overwhelming, my mind and everything races, I freak out until I ultimately have a panic attack, and then I just get so emotionally drained that I crash.
I am going to add some pictures from today below.