Tonight, I reached out to a friend, turned spirit-guide/guru, because frankly, I felt like I was going to explode. And the only guidance he gave me was, “write”.
I’ve reached out to a lot of friends and family in the last month or so and have had a lot of private, intimate, obnoxiously repetitive conversations about where I am with my sobriety, well, to be honest, where I am with my lack of sobriety.
You’ve probably noticed, I haven’t blogged much lately. I mean, I’ve posted a few things here and there about career stuff, and fun drink recipes, but I haven’t really been posting, at least not the way I did last year. And that is because I’ve been hiding in a dark, twisty corner next to my eight-year-old self (who has returned to beating her head against a wall), desperately trying to get my shit together, and failing miserably.
During one of the previously mentioned conversations, specifically with my mother, she said something that struck a chord with me. “Baby, your life didn’t end on January 1st of this year. You’re still here and you’re still that girl”. If that’s true, then why I haven’t I felt like that girl recently? Why do I miss that girl so much?
I miss who I was when I was sober. I was strong. I was emotionally aware. I was present. I was so positive it even annoyed me sometimes. Sure, things didn’t exactly “go right” last year, but I spent every day feeling comfortable and confident and beautiful in my own skin for the first time in my entire life.
Lately, I’ve been itching to get out of the skin I find myself living in and second guessing everything I’ve ever blogged about.
It’s really confusing. Even right now, trying to put what I’m feeling and what I’ve experienced this year into words, is difficult. I’m confused because last year, I stayed sober and diligent and nothing “good” came of it. I lost my job, I got hurt a lot, I was lonely and sad and had more emotional breakdowns than a Taylor Swift album. But I found myself through all of that. I became a person I was proud of at the end of it all. This year, I’ve been drinking and smoking and not giving a whole lot of eff’s, but I’ve had a lot of career success and I’ve had a lot of fun.
I’m scared to be sober again because I don’t want to lose the fun and the success and the highs I’ve had this year. I worry that if I’m sober again it will all stop. I’ll stop booking jobs. My friends will stop calling. My dating life will go out the window. All the materialistic “cons” from last year will return and I’ll find myself binging red licorice and Nicholas Sparks’ movies on a Friday night, wishing I was flirting with the cute bartender at my favorite neighborhood watering hole.
But, then on the other hand, I’m scared if I don’t go sober, if I don’t take the time to stay painfully present and remind myself of who I am in my core, I’m going to lose that person I was so proud of last year.
I’ve had a few friends suggest moderation, which, in theory, sounds like a great idea. But, for the most part, I’ve been pretty moderate about my social habits, and I’m still feeling the need to make a change.
And, as terrified as I am to make said change, I’m going to do it. I’ve set a date, Sepetember 1st, and will go fully sober, once again, for the rest of the year. I realize having a start date is important, but so is having an end date. I’m giving myself a few months to remember who I was sober, the good, the bad, and the ugly-crying. At the end of this year, I’ll re-evaluate, and consider introducing moderate, social drinking back into my life (without smoking).
Now you’re probably thinking, “why should I believe you?”. And I don’t blame you for thinking that. I’ve spent the better half of this year promising you guys I was going sober and would quit smoking, and it was all bullshit. I’ve jumped on and off the wagon so many times in the last few months, I feel like the kid with dysentery in a game of Oregon Trail.
Well, starting September 1st, I’ll be blogging as close to “on a daily basis” as my schedule will allow. No more hiding. You guys will once again be able to follow along on my journey (even when it’s super boring) and hold me accountable for every. single. day.
Until then, if you’re still reading this, thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me and I swear, I won’t give up on her either.