Update

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I plopped down in my usual spot on the couch this morning a little after 2 a.m. — yes, this is standard wake-up time for me, even on days off 😳 — with my usual mug of coffee…and absolutely nothing to do.

No test to study for (I passed the National Counseling Exam just before Thanksgiving). No assignments hanging over my head (fall semester ended Tuesday, and my final grades are already in). Not even any Christmas presents to buy (I’ve done all I can to contribute to our household’s giving list on my meager intern salary, and I’m currently between paychecks).

I don’t have a podcast episode to prepare for, either, as my partner had to push our recording session off until next week. By the way, once we bang that out, we will have the entire first season of “Living Sober” in the can and ready for our anticipated February 2024 launch. 🎉

I don’t even have a “Fargo” Season 5 episode to catch up on, as my routine is to devour the DVR recording from Tuesday night at least twice before I leave for work on Wednesday. It’s that kind of show, where you need to watch multiple times to catch, let alone understand, what the (aw) heck is happening. I also need to confirm what I think is happening by reading as many online reviews as possible, but that’s just me being obsessed.

It took me four paragraphs of brain-dumping to get to the point of this post, which, if I’m being honest, is the laziest one I’ve written in my (now) 53 months of sober living. You can tell by the title. I didn’t even try to come up with a topic or theme, or to wax poetic about the events of the past few weeks. I didn’t have, nor want, to try. I just wanted to dump! 🚮

While I’m at it, here’s a quick purge of the photos on my phone since the last time we “spoke”:

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They say idle hands are the devil’s playground, and anyone in recovery understands how unsettling an empty schedule can be. We’ve spent a lifetime trying to avoid silence and/or stillness “like the plague,” to the extent that we more or less gave ourselves the plague, scrambling to stuff any dopamine-spiking shit we could get our hands on into our bodies before our thoughts could start to register or awareness could hit our system or reality could take hold. Undoing that dysfunction takes time, patience, faith, and a lot of guts, because as you can probably imagine, going from compulsive self-medication at the slightest twinge of discomfort to free-balling the ups and downs of life is enough to drive you f*cking crazy.

That is a big reason why I started this blog in the first place. I look back on my earliest entries and marvel at the time and energy I devoted to documenting — the more intentional, and intelligent, form of “dumping” 😉 — the full range of my physical, mental and emotional experiences as an addict finally seeing the world through de-fogged eyes and starting to grow up at age 41.

It’s a good thing that, at 45, I have fewer idle hours to vent on the internet. A very good thing, especially as it pertains to social media! 🫢 Still, this little corner of the cybersphere has been my sanctuary for nearly 4 1/2 years, and I still need to visit from time to time. I am better at “sitting with,” understanding and accepting myself, but by no means do I feel “healed,” or even “well-adjusted,” much less “totally sane.”

Thursdays, it seems, are the closest I get. Throughout the fall, Thursdays have been the one day I don’t have to see clients at the clinic or drive up to DelVal to sit in class. I love Thursdays because of the stillness and empty space, the lack of “professional” commitments on my calendar, and the sense of sweet freedom and possibility I feel when my eyes shoot open at an ungodly hour. My mornings are something like euphoric, as I rev up on caffeine and suit up in my running gear (complete with headlamp) and hit the towpath or neighborhood asphalt at a comfortable pace — nothing to prove; I’m happy just to move.

One recent Thursday, at sunrise, I decided to really hike Tyler State for the first time; can’t believe it took me nearly 20 years to stray off the beaten paths. I followed one of the woodsy trails just to see where it would take me, and I ended up wandering so far and long with Christmas music jingling in my ears that I drained my headphone batteries and the “juice” in those little handwarmer packets before I made it back home. (I also heard about six different versions of “This Christmas” in that timespan; didn’t think I could ever get sick of that song, but here we are…)

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Of course, a side effect of my wee-hour ramblings is that I’m in bed for the “night” just after lunchtime, or whenever I feel like I’m done with my responsibilities for the day. Sleep is my other cherished sanctuary, a “healthy” way to shut off my brain/check out/escape reality. Happiness is comfy sweats, blackout curtains, flannel sheets, a ragged quilt I stole from an old boyfriend three lifetimes ago, the cream-colored afghan my aunt lovingly knitted for me, a stuffed “Slimey” from Sesame Street that my husband gave me as a gag gift on my last sober anniversary, and “Law & Order” reruns on a loop in the background. 😌

Yeah, it has occurred to me that sleep might just be “the new booze,” my latest means of self-medicating what I don’t want to face in this “real life” I “signed up to live.” That’s what I say to my clients when we’re discussing the annoying adult stuff we put off while drunk/high but have to actually do now that we’re sober. Getting sober is signing up for life! Being responsible for ourselves and handling our shit is the reward!

Do I sound convincing? It’s tough sometimes; not gonna lie.

This lazy, 53rd-month “update” hasn’t been super creative or exciting, which I suppose proves the point. I’m so accustomed to living this sober adult life that it’s become “old hat.” I’m in the habit of passing the necessary tests, completing the required courses, showing up for the people it is my duty to support, and moving forward, step by step, on the path toward becoming a Licensed Professional Counselor — and hopefully, one day, contributing to my household in a more meaningful way.

That actually reminds me that I do have something to do today; my husband asked me to tackle the heap of clean clothes I’ve allowed to keep mounting on the guest bed in his home office, so he doesn’t start appearing on Zoom calls with boxer shorts as a backdrop, or have to spend 30 minutes each morning treasure-hunting for one matching sock. (Before you start thinking I’m some kind of no-good layabout leech, I also fix him his lunch every day and make sure he has some kind of protein cooked up for dinner, in addition to managing the never-ending parade of dirty dishes we somehow manage to go through on the daily.)

That is exactly the kind of banal everyday stuff I was talking about earlier. And it hits me as I sit here writing that “celebrating” a sober milestone and the start of holiday break by folding and putting away laundry is, in truth, a pretty exciting development. Go back five years, and what would I have been doing on an off day from work? Sitting around killing brain cells with a bottle of Tequila and a Twitter account? 🤦🏼‍♀️

I was pretty much a “no-good layabout leech” in my addiction, but thank heaven, I don’t have to live that way anymore! I did recently waste some time on social media, but it was to make this sweet reel for hubby’s and my holiday “card”!

As “nothing special” as life seems now, it is, in fact, pretty freaking amazing, and I am privileged to be living it. I’m taking exams, completing courses, working internships, actually giving to others rather than being completely wrapped up in myself, and I’m preparing my brain and body to do all that by moving and resting and journaling and podcasting, while also helping out around the house!

I would never be able to live this life or pursue this path without the support of my husband, and the least I can do is make sure he has easy access to his unmentionables. And that seems like a good place to end this post, an “update” on not much that nevertheless feels like a whole awful lot.

If I don’t “see” you again before Christmas, happy holidays and thank you so much for being a (virtual) friend! 🎄🎁❤️