Monday, 6 April 2009


Today I got out of bed at 07:30 after barely sleeping (I couldn’t switch off when I went to bed at 01.30, after I’d worked on my book - adrenalin surge.)

Anyway, I got up, went in the shower and without wanting to sound like an asshole – I had a huge flush of excitement about starting a new day. Cheesy as it may sound – and I’m not really one for bullshit, I felt rather elated, worthwhile, and very, very fortunate. For what? For everything. For life.

I’m not a sycophant, far from it, and hearing someone verbally speak these words that I am writing, and I’d think‘Oh, fuck off will ya…’, so I apologies if I sound like a tit. But I am telling you, this is how I felt today and how I feel regularly.OK, I've had a hard couple of weeks - life obviously has dips, but for sure, I try to see positivity in all experiences, even if that means I don't want to repeat a mistake.

I am finally happy to be alone in my flat. I’m able to bang around, listen to the radio and make tea, if I wish, without having to tip-toe around for fear of waking anyone.

The water in the shower was powerful and hot, which made me think of how it was in Africa during the 6 months I stayed there. Not once was there hot water in the taps the whole duration; all washing, everything was done in cold.
In fact, it was only for part of each day that there’d be running water and if there wasn’t any, then hopefully you stored some water in a vat which could then be used to wash bodies, clothes, dishes. No stored water – no can do.

After my morning shower I went into the kitchen, via the living room where I had left the blinds open. I saw the odd plane flying over head from City Airport taking people to and fro, and I looked at the river below which was calm and still.
I emptied last night’s water from the kettle and re-filled it, flicked it on and walked over to the patio doors.
I live high up in a tall building and the view on a bright morning such as today was wonderful. I felt exhilerated.

I am so lucky.I am focused, I am healthy, I have all my faculties, I have friends, I’m about to go on holiday, I now have a more sane version of myself - and all this, because I’m sober and no longer taking drugs and doing the shit that comes with that.

So what, I don’t have a partner, I don’t have a family (OK, I have my daddy. Sorry Pops I wasn’t discrediting you. I mean I don’t have any other family.) I don’t have money, I’m vastly in debt - but you know something ?

I am still happy.
Do you want a sick bucket yet?
I’m not kidding you when I say all this. And there’s nothing you, them or whoever can say to make me feel otherwise, ‘cos today, I’m in charge of my destiny and I know where I’m going. I have obtainable plans, and hope and I will execute them.

All right so there are some things that could be said to me to make me feel momentarily like Poo, but as a whole – nope, and this, I believe is the essence of my sobriety: My appreciation about everything I have, and not feeling sorry for myself about the thing I don’t have. This is the backbone of my recovery.

I have suffered, emotionally, believe me, I have, about that there is no doubt. I was a fucked up Bunny with not a clue what I would do next. I didn't trust myself. With no one to turn to I acted purely through fear, a loose canon with nothing to lose.
I have been homeless a number of times, I have been fucked by assholes for free and for money. I’ve slept with wonderful, kind, artistic, intelligent men who loved me, and who I ran from.
I physically abused myself, and lashed out at many that came near me.
I was isolated, alone, and frightened. I feared for my sanity on many occasions and wondered how I would ever get out of the pit I was in.
I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed for someone to hear me, for someone to make me feel better, anyone, anything – just I just wanted to feel different to how I was feeling.
I wanted someone to hold me, I wanted to feel love - but when it came – I ran. I didn’t believe it was true and I didn’t recognise that I was worthy of it.

Once I gave up, fully, gave up punishing myself, I realised quickly that everything, and I mean everything in my life is a blessing.
I know hell and I know a kind of insanity.

Active addiction is a mental illness, and believe me as the veil began to lift and I was able to notice things: colours around me, the birds, the aeroplanes, people looking happy without questioning why. I was able to appreciate the smell of coffee, the taste of cake, the feel of cotton.
When I could smell my clean clothes and answer my phone without worry – I was able to speak to my dad without him slamming down the phone, and when I was able to wake up in the morning and realise I’m not afraid, and today, literally anything can happen and feeling the good fortune that if anything bad does occur - it’s unlikely to be through a decision I have made. All this – the ability to feel hot water pulsating onto my body and through my hair in the morning, and knowing I haven’t acted like a cock the night before. I hadn’t verbally abused anyone, and most of all – most of all - I am no longer enslaved in a world of misery, my every move dictated to me by cocaine and alcohol.

So when I finally started to change, albeit slowly – I was damned if I was about to throw it away or give it up for anyone. Not anyone- a man, a dog, a friend, or my dad and once that decision was made – I began to feel more confident in myself and life finally started to improve.

Check out my Facebook page if you fancy a more personal chat. I'm under the name Missy Gee.