11:30 am
This summer (well, the past few years, actually) has been all about searching. Searching for that next place to call home, that next job, that next big adventure, that next challenge. Frankly, I do think it’s a part of getting sober, it’s a part of my “plateau’ing”, and it’s a part of my struggle right now with feeling stuck, staid, depressed, angry, whatever.
I am so tired. I am a writer, and realized long ago that I simply need (more) time and space to just methodically ponder shit. It’s just who I am, and how I function in the world. Yet, when you travel, I think you have to become a bit more spontaneous, let go of your routines, and embrace the lack of control that comes from this act. Which can be hard on people who are normally introverted (inside themselves rather than outside, in the big, bad world).
I spent oh, 2 or 3 weeks on my international volun-touring trip in June (What did I learn? That I am not young and that I could do what I did locally–something I have already learned, years ago when I took my first volun-touring trip); and then, my fiance and I just spent about 2 weeks literally driving from one end of the country to the other, I guess looking for our next home. For me, home is not necessarily anymore about place, so that makes it really, well, to use my fave expression right now, EFFING tiring. I am effing tired of looking. I know what I like, and where I feel good; those places, however, don’t work for me anymore because they’re too expensive, they don’t offer the quality of life that we’re used to here in the tropics (let me tell ya, everywhere on this planet feels dry as shit to me now if the humidity is under 70%), and they don’t afford a girl proximity to the natural world (which I’ve realized I NEED more than I want, as a soul seeker and a writer). Exhale, I keep telling myself. It will come.
We’re back now, and I’m back to writing and working. We’ll see where the road takes us, but at this very moment, I am happy for the stillness.
Anyway, just a short post to say that I’m back online, and really appreciated all your comments re: whether or not to come out. I think I will, eventually and soon, but not today.
And, do I feel like drinking? Never. Did the thought of “becoming a wine drinker again” come up on this trip or in the past few months? Yes. I don’t know what I would get out of it, and cannot even imagine having energy to get out of bed these days AND be a drinker again (let alone give up my hard-won sobriety and all that has come with it)–yet, I have thought about it when I’ve also thought about how bored, or staid, or frustrated I feel in my daily life sometimes. Like, I want to feel excited again about my daily work/life–and, what do you know, even after all this time, my brain still considers or equates wine with excitement. It’s a trick, I know, and it’s Wolfie, I know. But, it’s scary; about 10% scary.
How do I stop that type of thinking? Well, I’m really used to forcefully pulling my brain back onto the neutral track, if not the positive one, after 5 years of sobriety. But, I know I also have to work on finding joy again in the day-to-day, and exercising my right to just enjoy life. It doesn’t have to be hard or stressful; people are not out to get me, to put obstacles in my path. That is my default neural mode, and until I fully unpack these neuroses, my trick is to just accept and deflect–all the while remaining conscious of the fact that this is how the stress of life transitions makes itself known. This is that stress, and this is what it does to my brain. (Maybe it makes others eat more, or run more, or drink more; all those things, too, were and are my self expression of stress.)
I have to say, it REALLY helps to have a home in the tropics, where I get to work alone all day, though–haha. So, yeah, big changes ahead if we do finally leave this place as a couple (I left 2 years ago on my own for about 9 months).
Sorry for the brain dump, and glad to have you all in my court! HUGS.
Drunky Drunk Girl 