So, it’s been a while. And, I’m beginning to realize (duh) that I just don’t write that much anymore here…for reasons that aren’t quite clear to me yet. Let me try to explain.
Partly, I’m not necessarily sober anymore, I just don’t drink. All the ruminating about getting and being sober–it doesn’t resonate anymore. YES, I’m grateful for so many things–most everything, really–that have resulted from me getting sober. But, I think I may have overdone the “thinking about not drinking” thing. I blogged about it, I wrote articles about it–I supported myself financially doing these things, and I will probably continue to do so.
I also don’t have the time, and this is a continuing source of frustration. I literally work all the time these days, and until I can remedy that by getting a job that pays a living wage (well, at least one), I probably won’t be posting that much more than I have been, which isn’t very often.
Finally, I’m pretty sure I’ve been outed–not by my own doing, but by some sleuthing on someone’s part–and it makes me feel hesitant. I don’t want to overshare, in general, anymore, but I especially don’t want to do it such that it goes out to my professional network! One day, when I find the courage to write a book about all this shit–which I have a nebulous idea of what it could be, and which would obviously require me to “come out”–maybe. But for right now, I just don’t want to blog when I sense it’s being read by people who know me, but whom I don’t know.
On that note, I miss writing on here every day, and may very well scrap this entire post and come back tomorrow.
All this is to say, expect a pause. But, I’m not really going anywhere (I still read these blogs every day).
And, am I sober? Of course. Does it help me get up at 4:30 am for my coffee shop job? It sure does. Do I envy drinkers who lurk around in groups, feeling like they aren’t good enough and compensating by having others validate them? Not at all–I finally feel like I have nothing to prove, and I don’t miss the days when I did. Hangovers? Never. I’ve tried to forget about them, and when I can’t, I use the memories to prevent me from drinking again.
Not that I live in fear of “relapsing,” which is more of a state of mind than being. If red wine actually worked on my brain the way it used to, then yes, a relapse might be a tangible possibility. But, it just does not work anymore. I credit sobriety and my slips to helping me to see that, embrace it, accept it, and move forward knowing that I can’t drink, literally.
I’m not afraid of relapsing because I no longer view alcohol solely as a source of “fun” or “being social” but mainly as something I “use” to fill a hole. I think this is key knowledge for my recovery’s continued success: the way I use wine will probably always be different from the way someone else does. Or doesn’t (some people just drink with no strings attached). That’s the one thing that hasn’t changed, in fact, and I’ve seen it in my slips–I only want to drink when I’m feeling desperate to change my reality (bad thoughts and feelings). It’s a deeply embedded thing inside me, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to “rewire” my brain completely.
Anyway, these days, I’m working hard to fill that need for purpose and grace and transcendence with other, much more fulfilling activities. I know that drinking doesn’t work–I’ve tried forcing it for a long time. Letting go of what doesn’t work seems to be what growing up is about. Getting sober is growing up, at last. Finding what does work–this is what life’s longer journey is made for.
And, on that note, I’ll sign off for now. Not a goodbye, just a (probably brief) pause…