sober lifestyle

Weirdness


โ€œWhat were you just cackling about?โ€ my husband asked as he entered my lair, aka our bedroom, where I was hunkered down behind the blackout blinds at 4PM on a beautiful summer Friday, looking like Charlie in โ€œAlways Sunnyโ€ writing his Dayman song.

No, I wasnโ€™t in there huffing paint, but I had just popped a melatonin gummy and settled into my usual routine: burrowing into bed, flipping on one of my crimey comfort shows, and scrolling Instagram to numb out after another week white-knuckling it as a mental health professional whoโ€™s not exactly, like, the gold standard of mental health herself.

I squinted at his silhouette, backlit by โ€œLaw & Order,โ€ as my foggy brain sputtered (*old school computer noises*) to translate silly โ€”> sane. The man I married is a โ€œnormieโ€ in every sense of the word, and bless him, after two decades together, he continues to seek logical explanations for inexplicable phenomena โ€” such as, WTF I am doing or saying and why.

โ€œUhhhโ€ฆโ€ I stalled, swiping at my screen. I tossed him the phone. โ€œThis?โ€ ๐Ÿ‘€โฌ‡๏ธ

๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚
Source: @kindminds_smarthearts
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sober lifestyle

Love


My husband and I went on one of our walks Monday morning, getting a later start and moving slower than usual after spending 12+ hours in the car the previous day, and five whole days in the Central time zone prior to that. Weโ€™d both taken an additional day off to recover from our annual Midwestern vacation โ€” and to celebrate another recovery milestone.

July 7 was my six-year sober anniversary.

This, naturally, was the topic of discussion as the two of us set off for our local state park, slogging through oppressive heat and soupy humidity, each carrying a hand towel to wipe sweat and shoo bugs.

I admitted to feeling kind of numb, or neutral, about the day, as I typically do about these โ€œbigโ€ days. After six years, alcohol-free living is just regular old life. No big deal. But I was curious what he thought, since our lives are intertwined, and of all my loved ones, heโ€™s the one whoโ€™s been with me the whole time in the trenches of addiction and recovery. He goes to 12-step meetings and therapy and really โ€œgetsโ€ whatโ€™s going on.

โ€œItโ€™s impressive to me,โ€ he said, swatting his towel at buzzing sounds in the air around his head, โ€œbecause I think about how hard it is to do something consistently every day for six years.โ€

Is it? Iโ€™ve always been a determined and disciplined person for whom โ€œhardโ€ things seemed like requirements if they led to my chosen goal. Sadly, in my transition from adolescence to adulthood, the โ€œgoalโ€ I chose was, โ€œcheck out of reality by any means necessary,โ€ and no one can deny I went HAM in chasing that for 20 years! ๐Ÿ˜ณ

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sober lifestyle

Evolution

Our annual reminder that itโ€™s so much cheaper to go to MLB games when you donโ€™t drink โ€” and your family has a ticket hookup at the league office!๐Ÿ’ฐ S/O to Chris for the sweet seats!

โ€œBring it in; I need something for the blog!โ€ I directed Hubby as I pulled out my phone, flipped the camera and โ€œcheesedโ€ with the souvenir cup of Coke Zero he had just brought me from a Wrigley Field concession stand.

This was a few days before my 5-year sober anniversary, and true to form, my brain was whirring away, jumping ahead, scheming and plotting and writing checks it was far too cluttered and chaotic to actually cash.

Case in point: Itโ€™s two weeks later, and I canโ€™t even type one paragraph without my own words sidetracking me off onto a random tangent. ๐Ÿง ๐Ÿ”ƒ

Warning: You will not have any earthly idea what Iโ€™m talking about on this blog if youโ€™re not acquainted with HBO shows.

Thereโ€™s a lot going on right now with my transition from the Class of 2024 to working as a full-time therapist in a private group practice, which is turning out to be equal parts โ€œdream jobโ€ and โ€œbe careful what you wish for,โ€ in the sense that great freedom brings great Imposter Syndrome. Cutting through all the anxiety to form coherent thoughts, much less sitting down to craft them into sentences, much less imbuing those sentences with wisdom, is proving exceedingly difficult as of late. ๐Ÿ˜ฐ

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sober lifestyle

Relationship

I feel bad putting my mom on blast, but this little snippet of her recent text message jumped out and smacked me in the face so hard that I felt compelled to drop everything and reflect on it the best way I know how.

That is, getting up out of bed at 2AM, pouring some coffee and pouring out my heart and soul on the internet.

Iโ€™ve expressed before how difficult it can be to measure progress in recovery, which is, to paraphrase a popular saying, an ultra-ultra-ultramarathon, as opposed to a sprint. Think: tortoise (versus hare), or better yet, stop-motion animation.

In the latter scenario, Iโ€™m arriving at the North Pole fresh off the boat from the Island of Misfit Toys, and my socialization process plays out in a series of painfully slow, nearly imperceptible movements that take forever to piece together and bring up to normal speed.

Still not sure whatโ€™s supposed to be โ€œwrongโ€ with this girl. Sheโ€™s cute, cheerful, musical, has fashion sense and a few friendsโ€ฆguessing it must be perfectionism and performance-based self-worth causing her crippling anxiety and depression? (I know the type. ๐Ÿ˜‰)
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sober lifestyle

Turbulence

I interviewed my first freelance client last Friday around lunchtime โ€” after filling out 100+ mind-numbing applications for content/copywriter positions and sitting on hold with unemployment for two months, to no avail, I figured it was time to take matters into my own hands โ€” and after a quick trip to the local tree farm with my husband to snag a Fraser fir, I was sitting down to an early-dinner splurge on Jules Thin Crust pizza, when by sheer force of habit โ€ฆ(deep breath)โ€ฆI opened the email app on my phone.

Two hours left in the work week, and out of the blue, I had TWO job offers flooding my inbox.

Neither was ideal, but stillโ€ฆ๐Ÿคฏ

Up until that point, it had been radio silence, with an occasional sprinkle of rejection, nonstop since early October. I was so thrown off by this sudden avalanche of opportunity that before I knew what was happening, I had housed my half of the pizza โ€” and then some โ€” in less than 15 minutes.

Free advice: if youโ€™re an Highly Sensitive Person with anxiety issues and an all-or-nothing personality, never check your phone while eating. ๐Ÿคข

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sober lifestyle

Calculation

For our first โ€œdate nightโ€ of the summer, my husband and I dove headfirst into the deep end of post-COVID reality, crawling through stop-and-go traffic down I-95 to Citizens Bank Park for last Sundayโ€™s full-capacity Phillies-Yankees game.

On the drive to the stadium, we discussed how nice it was not to have a dog in the fight.

You see, the last time we were here, back in August of 2019, we came to see the Cubsโ€ฆwho rewarded our loyalty by blowing a 5-run lead and serving up a walk-off grand slam to Bryce Harper. ๐Ÿคจ

It was at that game that I first tried keeping score as a sobriety strategy โ€” a hands-busying distraction from all the alcohol swirling around me โ€” and it worked so well on Day 40 that I went back to it on Day 708.

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sober lifestyle

Success

Itโ€™s always tough going back through old photos on my phone. My camera roll is full of emotional triggers, from the head-shaking, facepalming, uncomfortable close-ups of tequilas-on-the-rocks and (dear God!) my face under the influence thereof, to the guilty gut-punch of all those CrossFit gym pics.

You guys, I once won trophies for my fitness! One of them was even made of metal! ๐Ÿ’ช๐Ÿป๐Ÿ†๐Ÿ‘ธ๐Ÿผ

(I donโ€™t know if you can read the plates in the above image, but that hardware was from a local competition called โ€œMasters of the Universeโ€ that I used to enter every year in my late 30s.)

Sitting here years later, sans six-pack abs, and a good two clothing sizes larger (I would guess…my pandemic wardrobe has been 100% extremely lived-in loungewear), having swapped alcoholism for a sugar addiction, I remind myself for the 10 millionth time that I was not happy as a hard-bodied exercise fiend. Doing muscle-ups and deadlifting 300 pounds and running around in public in a sports bra and booty shorts did not fill the hole inside, just as guzzling booze and buying things and cruising social media and even winning awards at work failed to soothe my restless soul.

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sober lifestyle

Honesty

My phone ran an update overnight, and when I reached for it, by irresistible force of habit, the second my eyes shot open (around 1 AM), it wanted me to jump through a few setup hoops before I could use it.

CREATE PASSCODE, it commanded.

No, thank you! โ€” my mental reply.

Of course, there was no disobeying the iPhone, and I had to set a passcode before immediately heading to โ€œSettingsโ€ to shut it off. The whole exercise took 90 seconds, but the significance of it remains stuck in my head.

I donโ€™t have any reason to lock my phone. And that might be THE greatest gift of sobriety.

Itโ€™s difficult to explain, and Iโ€™m not going to get into specifics, but when youโ€™ve lived the life of an addict and watched yourself spiral downward into dishonesty and depravity until you are so disgusted with the person youโ€™ve become that you actually drink more to avoid dealing with that guilt and shame, and your spiral picks up steam, driving you lower, quicker…

I mean, yeah, after all that, it feels positively exhilarating to have nothing to hide.

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