11:11 am
I am totally grateful for what I have and where I am, but I have to say: life is a fast, fast blur right now. I am trying–and succeeding, I think?–in keeping up, but what I long for is a retreat of sorts. Ten days of no working, no doing, no thinking, really. God knows, no news skimming, no Facebook scrolling, no remembering, no creating new memories. Just time to turn it off for a while.
I am in the place–the city–where I started this blog, over four years ago, and I’m feeling…at a loss for adequate time and head space to collect my thoughts about it all into a post. What I can say is this: I’ve realized that it is OK to let some of it go. It is OK to change. To do things differently. I have, for many years, been inside my head–and by that, I mean, have clung to the idea that thinking and analyzing all my thoughts is of utmost importance. More so, that storing all these thoughts, analyzed, in my brain is worth EVERYTHING, is something I cannot give up or stop doing. I am at the point where I’m starting to ease up on that idea. I am starting to think that allowing myself to just let some of it go is actually the only thing that is going to restore my sanity, and move me forward. What is that “it”, though?
That “it” is comprised of many things: my old self, my old notion of self, the things that made up my old self, I guess. It is true, I am “me”, here, now, much improved. Yet, how did I get here? Is it OK, after the whirring stops and I look around, to let that go? Because, to me, letting go equates to forgetting. And, I don’t want to forget all that. I’m also incredibly nostalgic–I suppose, a vestige of the old poet in me, which I adored and long to reconnect with, at some point in my life. How do I balance the sober me, the one who had, out of necessity, to put away all that ruminating in order to recover–and the “old” “drunk” me, the one who is me, who thinks and feels? I guess, at four years sober, I am simply at a loss as to how to live in both skins. Because, completely “letting go” of the “old” “drunk” me is not working anymore.
That’s it. That’s what I’ve been struggling with for a few years now. It’s not that I am not living my life anymore, stalled, trying to figure this out. It’s just that now that I’m having a little more time to reflect on what I’ve been doing, how I’ve been working, who I’ve been seeing and relating to–it’s always hard, I guess, to come home. It’s just hard. I think it’s doubly hard for people in recovery, because so much of our recent past selves are tangled up in our “addict” selves. While one does not equal the other, they were and are all part of you, you know?
Ack! So hard. So, at this point, which I’ve been doing for those few years now, I have to turn this off–this problem that I cannot seem to grasp or solve–and move on to my day. I have to work today, and then, enjoy this great, big, beautiful city that I’ve spent TWO YEARS waiting and working toward visiting again for 12 glorious days. And, I’ve got a rock solid foundation of sobriety, which keeps opening up new doors of understanding, and I’m more “me” than ever. So, I will do this and live in the moment–because we all have to work, and live, in our sobriety, even if it still feels new, four years later–and come back to the rest later.
On a more present note: I just finished dying my roots. Um, yeah. My roots are grey. I am too young to be grey, and I don’t really like seeing what truly looks like someone who is 20 years older than I am right now (I’m 42, not 62). It’s all good; I’ve always looked young, and continue to feel young at heart, so, why not? I think it’s great that I get to pick what color my hair is now (I choose a reddish-blonde–haha). BUT, it’s a reminder of something that connects, for me, with recovery and all that I’ve been dwelling on recently: how do we age? I mean, literally, I’m asking, how are we to do this? How do we move through life balancing all our past experiences–in our heads (memories on overload as we keep acquiring them), in our hearts (feelings that we’ve pushed down or out, but never really go away)–with our present, active days? And, how do the “moons” of this world reconcile life having to be lived, out of necessity on many levels, as “suns”?
Haha. Sorry, guys, I’m still me. 😉
It is cold and rainy here–a welcome reprieve from incessant 90-degree, 90-percent-humidity days, I have to say. I gotta run now. More soon, she said a million times. No, seriously, I miss you guys. Happy fall!
Drunky Drunk Girl 