I don't know

I have written and deleted two posts. I just don't know what to say, but I feel like I should write to tell you I am still alive. I don't think I know what to say about what's happening, and I am very aware that it can either improve or fall apart. I am very much living a day at a time.

I have an interview Monday for a bank teller position. I already did a phone interview, and I have worked for this company before (a different location). I have done this before, so it scares me less than other jobs. It's bank hours and part time, so I could still make appointments. My parents are on board. I was upset because they called while I was at dinner with my family (after the bank should be closed), so I didn't answer. I had to call the next day. I still struggle with phone calls.

I am not entirely doing well. I am drinking. I tell myself I will stop when I get the job, or I will stop when I am out of the apartment. I don't know if that will be true. I do think I will have so much less stress when the apartment is done. I am actively packing. I have packed the books, half the kitchen (didn't have anything to wrap the fragile things so couldn't finish), sorted clothes to keep or donate (they range from a small to plus size), and miscellaneous things. I have a lot to donate because I have gone from a size 24 to a 10 to a 14 again. I have things I never even unpacked from when I moved into the apartment 2011. I am generally throwing away those things. It will be so nice to not have this apartment I am not even living in but am very aware of.

I am drinking, but I am going to meetings. I am generally going to the group near my parents house. I have someone in mind for a sponsor, but I haven't asked her yet. I have been to a few meetings at my home group. I was scared to go because.. well, have I explained the phone call with my ex-sponsor? Before I last went inpatient, I called my former sponsor because she runs a cleaning service, and I honestly just wanted to hire someone (her people or the others at AA that clean) to help clean my apartment. She had agreed before. When I called, she basically gave me this talk about how she's giving me to god and staying out of it. I don't even know what to say.. I just listened to her and felt awful. I have put her through some shit, but she fired me during a 4th step.. so I don't know if anyone is at fault. I saw her today at a meeting. She just came to drop something off but was hugging people. She gave me the longest hug and seemed so excited to see me, so I felt better. My friend B also got there after the meeting, and she was so proud of what I have done at the apartment. They are the 2 people who actually have seen the apartment, so I feel like they understand my progress. I just wish I could say I was sober.

I managed to do the assessment for DBT. I heard them discussing my leaving the appointment last time, but thankfully no one said anything to me about it. I am very much trying to trust the process. I have a bunch of appointments scheduled to answer a lot of questions. I told one therapist that my willingness to try this has to do with knowing people who were "rejects" that found help. People who psychiatrists and therapists were fed up with that found help. She seemed to understand what I meant because I have had little luck with treatment.

So I am alive. I am not well, but I am not worse. I will try to write more soon.