It's the last day of July, and as I get ready to close the gym tonight, I think about how this month has been a little bazaar. It's really been a month of ups & downs; I've had some setbacks, but I've also had some interesting learning experiences. As you may have read in my last post, depression had become a concern, but I can say with a fair level of confidence, that it is manageable now, and I look to the future with much optimism. My work as a REALTOR (r) has increased to the point that I'm excited to be an agent, to be showing homes, and to be approaching a closing. I'm also scheduled to be flying to New York for Labor Day Weekend to see my family, including the newest member, my niece, Nicole; and to attend the wedding of a childhood friend. Having a trip to look forward to is just one more good reason to get up in the morning each day and to get motivated to do something productive! My part-time job at the gym keeps me sane, and on some type of a regular schedule. It's also a lot of fun to work with my friend, Jay, and to chat with the gay gym-rats who come here.
July has been a challenging month for my confidence. I've made many big decisions in recovery, but in this passed month, I've come to question how well I've thought about things before making my decisions. I think I've actually come to regret the decision to live with my roommate, Adam, who now claims to have a pretty intense problem living with me. I knew after I returned to the real world in April of 2007 that living with Adam would be a challenge, and the people who I owe my sobriety to told me not to live with him. Anyway, we haven't wanted to live with each other for a while, but we're in a lease, and my plan to live with my friend, Chris, wouldn't happen until December. So, in my mind, nothing was going to change until then. But a week ago, Adam emailed me saying my behavior was a threat to his sobriety, and that he would have to move out by the end of the month, leaving me with a place to pay for and no roommate. To be mild, I was livid. I was so insulted, hurt, and baffled, especially since, he had no home when he was asked to leave rehab, except to live with me. I returned his email with one of a scathing nature that described my frustrations with living with him. My friend & sponsor, and possibly future-roommate, Chris, made me a "roommate-needed" flyer of an extremely professional design, and we put them up at the Galano Club (Gay Alcoholics Anonymous), so that I can find a sober roommate. Oh, and I told Adam he wasn't going anywhere until September.
I was really pissed off, needless to say, but I noticed how I was asking for help, and that the people who care about me, helped. They helped me see that this wasn't as bad as my alcoholic mind was making it out to be. Unfortunately, I isolated a bit, which is not healthy for an alcoholic in recovery, but I also went to meetings, and I went out with my Earth friends, Mo and Sparkles. They're always a hoot, and I like to go out. They're actually pictured in my default MySpace photo right now in case you think you know them. Between Trivia at Joe's on Juniper and Blake's, they know everyone! So, it wasn't the end of the world, and how could I stay upset when Joining Hearts 21 was in just a couple of days!
Every year, for the past twenty years, gay Atlanta gets together to party and raise money for two charity organizations, AID Atlanta and Jerusalem House, and 100% of the cover, tips, everything, goes to the charities. And the party is called Joining Hearts. I went two years ago in the good old days of drinking when they held it at the Piedmont Park pool, and I thought it was the greatest party I had been to in Atlanta. Well..........this year was off the chain! I had heard from a boy who comes to the gym and is also involved with the organization of the party that this was going to be a huge party, and that it was going to be held at the Civic Center, which was where a not-so-exciting Gay Pride Festival was held only a few weeks ago. (Remember?) Well, despite the failure of the Pride Committee, Joining Hearts 21 was a huge success! My expectations were low, so when I arrived to see a "circuit-esque" set-up, complete with a canopy-dance area, a full-on light show, and DJ Roland Belmares at the turn-tables.
Earlier in the week, I was out at the Heretic for the mid-week shirtless party they have on Wednesday nights. I was having a bad week with things that were going on, and I needed to go out and dance. and I met this older guy who kept telling me I was gorgeous. He wanted to buy me drinks, so I let him buy me a Red Bull, and later a diet Coke (which I drink way too much of, since I don't drink alcohol anymore). He was fifty-two, but he looked forty, and he was interesting, so when he asked me out to dinner, I accepted. Later that night, I was with a few friends who wanted to stop by the apartment of someone I didn't know. When we arrived, I met a very attractive thirty-four year-old, somewhat femme hottie! He asked me out on a date, and I was very interested, so I said, "Definitely!" But let me just clarify: I never get asked out twice in the same night.
During this same week, a friend I met when I first moved to Atlanta two & a half years ago, Shawn, called me to buy a home in Kennesaw. I was excited to go house-hunting with him the Saturday of Joining Hearts. He decided on one, and instructed me to write up an offer. I was ecstatic with his decision, and when we were done, I went home to change for the party & to celebrate my up-coming closing! As I drove back from Kennesaw, I spoke to Mike (the femme hottie) on the phone. He said his EX was with him, and that he knew me, too. He had met me at the Heretic on Wednesday night! So, once the two of them (who had dated for almost ten years!) got over the fact that they asked out the same boy on the same night, the three of us decided to go to Joining Hearts together! How crazy! My friend, Seth, who I've known for a decade since we met in Boston, was supposed to accompany me to the party, but then had to go to a birthday party instead.
I noticed earlier in the week that Mike drank a fair amount of alcohol, but I didn't think much of it. I just assume that everyone other than myself (aside from the other alcoholics I know) is a normal drinker. But then the three of us got to Joining Hearts, and Mike disappeared after only a few minutes. Joe (the other EX) & I danced almost the whole night, and had a great time; but Mike never returned. Before he disappeared, he asked a bartender to fill up his large plastic cup with a little ice & vodka, only. I thought to myself, "Wow! That's totally something I've done!" Joe & I talked about it for a bit, and I disclosed some of my story to him, and he said that he wanted Mike to go to rehab. Unfortunately, he is not ready yet, and if he's not ready, no one else can really help get him there. An alcoholic must live in pain & suffering until he/she reaches rock-bottom. Once he asks for help, there is so much that can be done, but not until then.
As Joe & I danced, I felt as though I were at the WinterParty in South Beach, or on an Atlantis vacation. The only reminder that I was in Atlanta was a familiar face here and there, and the illuminated skyline as the sun set into beautiful pinks & purples. I knew I wasn't going to be interested in dating Joe, but I thought we would make fabulous friends. He knew more of the older crowd at the party, and I got to meet some distinguished people.
At about ten pm, a singer came out on stage with three drag queens who had been dancing with the crowd. One of the drag queens was my ex-husband, Jeremy. He and the other two girls were in matching outfits with these arrangements on their heads. I waved to Jeremy from the dance floor; he looked like he was having a great time. Abigail, the young singer of maybe twenty-five, was very attractive, with long straight, brown hair, and a very fit body. She started her performance with one of my all-time favorite songs, and the theme song to my Senior Prom, back in Greenwich, Connecticut: Forever Young, by Alphaville. Abigail's rendition was a dance/club version, that really got the crowd going. She followed it with a couple of circuit anthems, and then was finished. As Jeremy walked off the stage following his back-up performance, I said , "Hello," and I told him he did a great job. He said he was having a great time. The party thinned-out, but Joe wanted to stay until the very end because he was anticipating some fireworks, which they customarily have. We waited, but there were no fireworks. We finished up the night at Joe's Versace-like mansion in Buckhead with some friends, where I also got to meet a TV celebrity whose studio happens to be adjacent to my gym. Small gay world.
I love parties, I love to dance, and I love to hang out and socialize. And I think I always will. If I can keep doing those things, I don't need alcohol. People ask me how I do it, but I now know that I never needed to drink; once I learned some humility and became comfortable in my own skin, I became outgoing, I became flirty, I was funny. I never needed it, and I never had a craving at Joining Hearts or at the second party at Opera on Sunday night, which Joe & I went to as well. That party was a toned-down version of Joining Hearts with the proceeds going to the same charities. I got to meet DJ David Knapp, and he made it a point to remember my name! Very sweet guy. He asked if Joe & I were a couple, and I practically yelled, "No, David, I'm single!"
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Health & Gaydar in Disrepair!
Just a warning, this might be a long one. Not sure yet!
We last left off at the end of June, just before I got sick. Have you ever had strep throat? If not, DON'T EVER GET IT! And for those of you who have, you know all about the complete Hell I endured for about a week. Not to mention the accompanying depression, which was completely unforseen! Anyway, I was out with Edward & Sparkles at Blake's on Saturday evening before Pride weekend, and I felt as though the headache and body aches I was starting to feel were getting worse. I went home, planning on having some Tylenol, and going back out, but I ended up lying on my sofa, and then going to bed at midnight! Yes, for me, going to bed before midnight rarely happens, especially on a Saturday night! OMG! I slept for seventeen hours, until 5:00 pm the next day, and I felt like a sickness had come over me and had infiltrated every region of my body. My throat was in extreme pain, and eating was next to impossible. Each part of my body ached, and moving around the apartment was a chore. Even though I felt the way I did, I thought it would go away, because I don't really get sick. But on Tuesday, I had to call in sick to the gym, and Jay, my friend & boss, wasn't happy with me. He suggested going to the doctor (which I wouldn't have done, except he mentioned it), so I called my new Atlanta doctor, and I went in that afternoon.
I thought about asking someone to drive me, but I thought I would have a tough time finding someone during the day on a Tuesday, so I told myself that I had to drive, and that everything would be okay. So, I got in my car, said the Serenity Prayer a few times, and drove, like an old man, all the way to the doctor's office. He gave me antibiotics, told me to shovel ibuprofen into myself every few hours (because I also had a high fever), and said I'd be better by the weekend. He's gay, and he knew what weekend it was. ;-)
As I slowly improved, depression set in, and with all the channels cable has to offer, I ran out of TV to watch. Things like laundry, I knew I could do even though I was sick, but I had no motivation to do anything around my apartment. I barely even went online, and there's nothing easier than that. I checked my MySpace probably a couple of times in that whole week. I knew that if I picked up the Big Book or something inspirational to read, I'd feel better. But depression affects me in a way that it controls my thoughts by keeping me from doing the things that will make me feel better, and thus I stay in an unhealthy mental state. I recently bought Congnitive Behavioral Therapy for Dummies because I've looked into it, and it seems to be the next step after recovery material, like the Big Book. It's very similar, and it makes sense to me. And the For Dummies book promises to make me my own therapist. I had plenty of time to read it, but I never opened it that week. Depression doesn't make sense. For those of you who've suffered from it, you know what I mean.
The most important project of the week was totally neglected by me. Atlanta's Gay Pride was only a couple of days away, and I was thinking at this point, that we wasted a lot of money reserving a booth for Abode Realty. I felt bad in every sense of the word. I kind of felt like a failure the terrible way I felt before I stopped drinking. Here I am living in sobriety, and I can't even handle putting together a booth for Pride. To my surprise, Roel, my broker, was working on it! But why? Isn't Roel straight?? Once it wasn't too painful to speak on the phone, I called Roel and learned that he and a gay friend were putting together a booth that would be real estate and these beautiful home decor pieces that Roel sells in one of his other businesses. But isn't he going to be afraid of all the gay people at the Civic Center?? No matter, I met up with him and Regan (gay male friend, hmmm) on Friday evening at the booth where we opened at 6 pm. I was a little drained, but able to eat and walk. I also was no longer contaigious.
It felt so good to be around people! I am a true believer that we all need each other, and although I was still a bit weak, I was so happy and excited to be around everyone. In fact, after we closed at 9 pm, I went out. I had to explain the those I encountered that I was no longer contaigious, and the kiss they just gave me wasn't a death sentence. It was fun, but I stayed for only a short time. The next day, I was back at the booth at the Civic Center, which, by the way, was a weird place for a Gay Pride Festival, because the festival took place in a parking lot. It wasn't half bad, though, because every so often, someone I knew would come say "Hi!"
At some point during the day, Roel & I were sitting together in the booth, and we started talking about personal things. Up to this point, he & I had a strictly professional relationship, as broker and agent. But at the festival, we had plenty of time to chat. I knew he knew I was gay because you'd have to be from Southern Georgia to not know. (For some reason, people from that region of the world can't tell I'm gay.) I'm pretty obviously gay, so I just assume that everyone knows. He asked me if I was dating anyone, and he asked me about passed relationships. I'm an open book when comes to such things, so I spoke openly about being single for a year-and-a-half, and about my failed marriage to my ex-husband, Jeremy. He then told me that he's been seeing his friend, Regan, someone who's been helping out in our office while we didn't have an administrative assistant. I knew Regan was gay, because he's like me; pretty obvious. But Roel is older and Phillipino, and I always assumed that he was straight, so when he told me this, I was like, "Oh My God!"
"What??" Roel asked.
"Oh my god!" I gasped again.
Roel, at this point was thinking I knew Regan on another level. "What's the matter?"
"I feel so silly now because I always thought you were straight!" I said.
"Me?? Oh puhleeeease!!"
Later, I went for a walk around the festival, and when I came back, Regan & Roel were laughing at me. I felt really silly, but I also still thought it was funny, and we all laughed for a while. So, from time-to-time, my gaydar isn't 100%, and that's fine, because I'm not perfect, and things stay interesting.
We last left off at the end of June, just before I got sick. Have you ever had strep throat? If not, DON'T EVER GET IT! And for those of you who have, you know all about the complete Hell I endured for about a week. Not to mention the accompanying depression, which was completely unforseen! Anyway, I was out with Edward & Sparkles at Blake's on Saturday evening before Pride weekend, and I felt as though the headache and body aches I was starting to feel were getting worse. I went home, planning on having some Tylenol, and going back out, but I ended up lying on my sofa, and then going to bed at midnight! Yes, for me, going to bed before midnight rarely happens, especially on a Saturday night! OMG! I slept for seventeen hours, until 5:00 pm the next day, and I felt like a sickness had come over me and had infiltrated every region of my body. My throat was in extreme pain, and eating was next to impossible. Each part of my body ached, and moving around the apartment was a chore. Even though I felt the way I did, I thought it would go away, because I don't really get sick. But on Tuesday, I had to call in sick to the gym, and Jay, my friend & boss, wasn't happy with me. He suggested going to the doctor (which I wouldn't have done, except he mentioned it), so I called my new Atlanta doctor, and I went in that afternoon.
I thought about asking someone to drive me, but I thought I would have a tough time finding someone during the day on a Tuesday, so I told myself that I had to drive, and that everything would be okay. So, I got in my car, said the Serenity Prayer a few times, and drove, like an old man, all the way to the doctor's office. He gave me antibiotics, told me to shovel ibuprofen into myself every few hours (because I also had a high fever), and said I'd be better by the weekend. He's gay, and he knew what weekend it was. ;-)
As I slowly improved, depression set in, and with all the channels cable has to offer, I ran out of TV to watch. Things like laundry, I knew I could do even though I was sick, but I had no motivation to do anything around my apartment. I barely even went online, and there's nothing easier than that. I checked my MySpace probably a couple of times in that whole week. I knew that if I picked up the Big Book or something inspirational to read, I'd feel better. But depression affects me in a way that it controls my thoughts by keeping me from doing the things that will make me feel better, and thus I stay in an unhealthy mental state. I recently bought Congnitive Behavioral Therapy for Dummies because I've looked into it, and it seems to be the next step after recovery material, like the Big Book. It's very similar, and it makes sense to me. And the For Dummies book promises to make me my own therapist. I had plenty of time to read it, but I never opened it that week. Depression doesn't make sense. For those of you who've suffered from it, you know what I mean.
The most important project of the week was totally neglected by me. Atlanta's Gay Pride was only a couple of days away, and I was thinking at this point, that we wasted a lot of money reserving a booth for Abode Realty. I felt bad in every sense of the word. I kind of felt like a failure the terrible way I felt before I stopped drinking. Here I am living in sobriety, and I can't even handle putting together a booth for Pride. To my surprise, Roel, my broker, was working on it! But why? Isn't Roel straight?? Once it wasn't too painful to speak on the phone, I called Roel and learned that he and a gay friend were putting together a booth that would be real estate and these beautiful home decor pieces that Roel sells in one of his other businesses. But isn't he going to be afraid of all the gay people at the Civic Center?? No matter, I met up with him and Regan (gay male friend, hmmm) on Friday evening at the booth where we opened at 6 pm. I was a little drained, but able to eat and walk. I also was no longer contaigious.
It felt so good to be around people! I am a true believer that we all need each other, and although I was still a bit weak, I was so happy and excited to be around everyone. In fact, after we closed at 9 pm, I went out. I had to explain the those I encountered that I was no longer contaigious, and the kiss they just gave me wasn't a death sentence. It was fun, but I stayed for only a short time. The next day, I was back at the booth at the Civic Center, which, by the way, was a weird place for a Gay Pride Festival, because the festival took place in a parking lot. It wasn't half bad, though, because every so often, someone I knew would come say "Hi!"
At some point during the day, Roel & I were sitting together in the booth, and we started talking about personal things. Up to this point, he & I had a strictly professional relationship, as broker and agent. But at the festival, we had plenty of time to chat. I knew he knew I was gay because you'd have to be from Southern Georgia to not know. (For some reason, people from that region of the world can't tell I'm gay.) I'm pretty obviously gay, so I just assume that everyone knows. He asked me if I was dating anyone, and he asked me about passed relationships. I'm an open book when comes to such things, so I spoke openly about being single for a year-and-a-half, and about my failed marriage to my ex-husband, Jeremy. He then told me that he's been seeing his friend, Regan, someone who's been helping out in our office while we didn't have an administrative assistant. I knew Regan was gay, because he's like me; pretty obvious. But Roel is older and Phillipino, and I always assumed that he was straight, so when he told me this, I was like, "Oh My God!"
"What??" Roel asked.
"Oh my god!" I gasped again.
Roel, at this point was thinking I knew Regan on another level. "What's the matter?"
"I feel so silly now because I always thought you were straight!" I said.
"Me?? Oh puhleeeease!!"
Later, I went for a walk around the festival, and when I came back, Regan & Roel were laughing at me. I felt really silly, but I also still thought it was funny, and we all laughed for a while. So, from time-to-time, my gaydar isn't 100%, and that's fine, because I'm not perfect, and things stay interesting.
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