Back to PA because of Jay, yes as in Silent Bob
I just posted this on another forum and surprised myself with the conclusion :) Warning for talk of drug addictioon (not mine.)
I woke up today with, 'Is it a week till I move? It's a week till I move.'
Fear, fear, fear.
I've had a week of intense processing and now maybe it's time for a week of intense doing. And with that thought, I flipped out and procrastinated for several hours! So that's where I am now. Let's have a look at stuff.
My choice of downtime-activity yesterday and today (I'm learning to notice this, because it's significant) was getting rather involved with tales of Jason Mewes's drug hell. I'm definitely noticing a pattern. This is about my pain.
Jay Mewes is one of those guys I identify with, one of those ultra-high-energy, ultra-expressive, strange and intense guys who walk the line between boyishness and androgyny, vulnerability and badassness. Well, 'identify with' is not quite accurate - there's also a wishful edge to it, a desire for more of those qualities in my own life.
Over the last couple of days I've discovered a new level of identification with Jay as the disastrous problem child being parented by his best friend. My housemate and I used to joke that we were like Jay and Silent Bob, but I don't think either of us realised how creepily like we were to the real-life Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith. Kevin wore himself out for years trying to help that boy through his problems, swinging between nurturing and anger, pushing him away and taking him back, and then finally realised he was being an enabler. He had to let go and let Jay hit rock bottom for him to get better.
Partly I'm wishing my housemate loved me as much as Kevin loves Jay. In the end, she let go of me to save herself, not me, and I doubt we'll end up friends again as they did. And I feel hurt and regretful about that difference. But I still recognise so much of our codependent story in theirs. Including the hitting rock bottom. I think (hope) I've now done that and I'm starting to climb back up.
Obviously, I can't compare my problems to heroin addiction. I'll never know what that's like, but I know what it's like to be the nuisance and the burden and the adult child who needs parenting. The liability, the flake, the special case, the one who can't be trusted. The one who makes all those empty promises. The one there are all those funny, funny anecdotes about. Ugh, it's hard. And I've never really allowed myself to feel sorry for myself for that hard, so once again, I snuck around to it by feeling sorry for someone else.
And this is relevant now because?
Because now it's time for me to do the work of climbing back from rock bottom and out of the problem-child persona. Because I need the heartwarming spectacle of a dork like me having successfully done so, and being proud of himself, and being able to tell his own story with total honesty and humour, and with no need for excuses or apologies or self-hate. Just: that was where I was then. Here's where I am now. Oh, Jay! You're a beacon of acceptance!
Kevin insists, quite rightly, that Jay gets 100% of the credit for his own recovery. He calls him a hero. With everything a geek means when they say hero.
Oh, and perhaps equally importantly, sober Jay is still Jay. Very much so. Recovery has only made him funnier and more himself.
You know what I'm getting out of this? I know procrastination ain't heroin. But I'm going back to Procrastinators Anonymous.