I got to play a “real” piano today, a first in many, many years! I should go to the daytime NA meetings at St. Michael’s more often just for that incentive. I woke up feeling like I needed a meeting, even though I didn’t speak up during the meeting. I had some crazy dreams last night. Didn’t I just say a few nights ago in IOP that I never remember my dreams? I should have said, “I rarely remember my dreams.” Last night’s dreams were “user-friendly,” meaning I dreamed about using drugs, not alcohol but cocaine of all things, something I haven’t touched for more than 11 or 12 years. Why on earth did that pop into my subconscious?
I don’t really remember the specifics of the dreams last night, just lots of people around using the drug itself, me as well, standing outside of my body watching myself as I so often am in my dreams. The act of using is what actually woke me up, startled and confused. I’ve heard others in recovery talk about this sort of thing, so I’m guessing it must be fairly normal. I seriously didn’t expect a dream to leave me feeling so vulnerable, though.
In other news, last night I was determined to reorganize the living room. The clutter gets on my nerves worse this time of year for some reason, probably because I begin considering placement of a holiday tree. That determination was soon lost after I caught my hair in fly paper while trying to remove something from a high shelf in the spare room. My hair is very long, like 27 inches long. The fly paper literally ripped a chunk of my hair out! My scalp still hurts. Plus, I had that gooey, nasty glue all in my hair!
I immediately jumped in the shower, trying to wash it out. I spent the better part of half an hour to 45 minutes washing, crying, re-washing, still crying, rinsing, crying more, conditioning while combing under water, all cried out — until the water began to cool. I conditioned it again this morning, but it still felt weird. I was scared I would have to have it cut off. I stopped by to get my hairdresser’s opinion this afternoon. She reassured me that I got the worst of the glue out and that my hair looked fine. She trimmed it up (minus 2 inches) and recommended a good leave-in conditioner to help tame the area that is damaged (right in the back).
It took me 10 years to grow my hair this long! Long hair is a spiritual practice in my mind. Perhaps a holdover from my childhood Church of God days, but more so a Native American tradition I admire. My hair is one of the things I actually love about myself.
Needless to say, no organizing got done last night! I seriously doubt I could make room for a holiday tree anyway even if I tried. It’s been a weird couple of days, but I’ll take weird over drunk or suicidal any day.
~ 100 Days Sober ~
I’m kinda proud of that! 😉