Drip, drop. Drip, Drop.
It’s the sound of the change going on in my life. At least the way I hear it. Drops. Falling. Out. Of. The. Sky. One by one.
Wait: I think I saw one go back UP. Oh, me.
I’m trying to be patient, and I don’t want to drink, but I feel like I need to do more, work more, pitch more, blah blah blah. The thing about getting sober is, you embrace a much bigger picture of who you can be, what you could do. Your to-do list gets really big, your bucket list, humongous. Which is amazing, right? To be able to dream like that is probably a distant memory for a lot of us, isn’t it?
Yet, you’re still you and things still happen and you still have to work and go running and make dinner, walk the dogs, visit family, and do all these things that you used to do and that are mundane and that seem to have nothing to do with that Big, Sparkly Unicorn Sober Life that “everyone” keeps saying they’ve been leading and you will be, too, once you…? I’m not sure what, but my sobriety has been pretty much drip, drop, drip, drop.
Another thing about being sober–and this has been my experience only–is that just because you’re not drinking doesn’t mean that your life is going to resemble a Broadway musical. (I have a twin brother who’s actually written a musical, so there ARE some people who literally strive for this, but they, too, have day jobs.) No, no musical going up in this house. There are no built gay men breaking out in song and dance here. No lights, no orchestra, no costumes. Just me. Just life. Just not drinking. Thank God(dess) the pangs have subsided–it only took a year–but beyond that, life is still just life.
Drip drop, drip drop. I want to see more and bigger and way different, but I just see…me, now. I see what I WANT to do more clearly, and that makes the stretch look even longer: How am I going to get THERE? All the way over there? Dude, I’m tired. I want a glass of wine, shit maybe I’ll drink at Day 180 (nah, yeah, maybe, nah, yeah, maybe)… Oh, wait, what? Right. Weren’t we talking about big changes and Broadway costumes? Sorry, got distracted there–AGAIN.
For now, until the show ends up at my doorstep, I’m going to keep getting up before 9 (yes, I’ve still got time to lounge, but will be applying for full-time jobs today, actually), processing my graduate school application/decision, banging my head against what fees like a brick wall to get some freelance science writing gigs, continue to blog and explore some of my personal writing projects (ugh!). Running, losing weight then gaining it back when I make a LOT of pudding and cake and cookies. Walking the dogs, petting the dogs, getting bit by one of the dogs. Maybe planning a trip home to see my mom before her hip replacement surgery in the fall.
Nope, no mid-air splits here. Just life, and dripping and dropping. Progress comes in tiny increments, which is probably for the best–I, for one, am not ready to belt out a Patti LuPone-style solo just yet.