I'm feeling raw today. My last drink was four days ago.  I'm not experiencing any physical symptoms. And I stopped smoking marijuana two weeks ago.  I'm not devastated. I am angry and disappointed that  I can't get  quick relief from my depression symptoms.  I know that drinking alcohol is not a logical approach to lifting my spirits. I don't know. They prescribe Ritalin for hyper activity you know?
I've got to bear in mind that the relief I get from a drink is not long lived and there's always a price.
I'm struggling with alcoholism much more today than I did 22 years ago when I stopped drinking for the first time.

So some background information. In 1993, I was an undiagnosed  depressive.  Frustrated with my life and feeling like I was living a life "I hadn't signed up for," I was witnessing friends who had made the decision to not drink. Comparing, as they say, my insides to their outsides, I was looking for a cover all solution. Convinced that of myself I was a fuck up with no prospects and that I would never be able to live the life I had imagined for myself, I turned to sobriety and the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous to "fix" me.

The life I was living was typical of someone who had recently graduated from college in a post Reagan economy. I had a generalist education in a market that only wanted specialists.  I had a lover who was devoted to me but wouldn't have sex with me, so not really a lover. I had tried unsuccessfully to break up with her. She was the one person in my life who time and time again would take me in, make me laugh, appreciate me and see in me the things I could not and so desperately wanted to  be.  But the passion had left our relationship. We had the dreaded "lesbian bed death" aka "lbd."

Years later my old lover having done, what I can only imagine is a lot of work, transitioned to male and I am hoping he is finally comfortable in his own skin.  One of my deepest regrets is that I was not a person with whom he could feel comfortable enough to confide in. I owed him at least that much for every thing, every word and most of all every touch he so willingly gave me. My penance for this shortcoming is that I am now excluded from his life. No amount of  letters, emails and friend requests will reinstate my connection with this person who has and will always be some one I love.

I mention touch because, for me at least, this is where the message of love and support can really be received.

Touch is a sensitive topic. Many people can not stand to be touched, still others like myself, crave it. Kind words are nice, a smile better still. But for me to feel ok. I need to feel skin on skin. I'm not talking about sex here.

The ultimate way to include someone in your tribe, clan, family, society is to share intimacy. Touch. Your open palm on my shoulder, touching your fingers on my arm says to me, "I claim you, you are my pack." Maybe I'm more animal than human. As I'm writing this it occurs to me that cats mark things and people (not only with urine) but by rubbing their face or chin on the item or person.  So get a cat right? Cat's make my eyes blow up like balloons despite the fact that I love them. Fuck it, I'll just take benadryl right? Wouldn't it be awesome if the answer to my "problems" would be to just get a cat and take antihistamines?

So I've touched on a lot of topics here and if you'd like to comment please do. These words are largely unedited and are really just my thoughts out loud. What I thought I was writing about is not what ended up on this post. I have been told that more will be revealed so I'll stayed tuned. I invite you tune in with me. Who knows what will come of it? Certainly I will learn something, even it's just that every one feels like this or no one does and I am in fact as alone as I feel right now. (Feelings aren't facts - I know.)