I am so grateful to be sober. I’m grateful for a day off, for rest, for books and for fresh air. I’m grateful for thunderstorms in the summer, for a fridge full of groceries, for all of the good things I have in my life. I am grateful for my family, for Timmy, for T, for my friends and their kindness. I’m grateful for quality time with myself and for a fresh day with new opportunities.

Morning my friends (: As per usual I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend full or rest or fun or family or whatever makes it an exciting weekend to you!

I’ve been sitting here, brainstorming what to write and I think one of the things I owe every one of you is an apology. I am sorry that my posts haven’t been the most spiritual or positive lately, honestly for several months now and I am so grateful that you have continued to bear with me as I navigate weird and uncomfortable feelings.

I took off from work last Friday and today. Friday I booked a massage because yah know self-care and as I’m sitting in this incredibly tranquil and serene place I already feel myself wanting to put lemons in our Brita, eat only raw and organic food, buy one of those things you put your face in when you get a massage because..SO comfortable. I was ready to buy pink peppercorn and lemon grass essential oil to lather myself and our apartment in, become a yogi, move to Nepal, sell my soul to the wonders of wellness because THAT is what’s going to fix me.

It’s not the big extravagant things that stick for me. I.e. I bought a little stool once, I think I wrote about it here, where I was going to sit and pray every morning in a little spiritual corner I was going to build in our old apartment. Well, I sat on it to pray about twice and now almost a year later we use it as an actual footstool like it was meant to be used.

It’s micro moments and actions that build up over time, those are the ones that stick for me.  Starting with the past two days where I have forced myself to journal even though I really didn’t want to. And hopefully that will build up over time and I’ll be journaling every day again. I did NOT put lemons in the Brita but that doesn’t mean I can’t make small choices to just eat a tiny bit better.

When I first got sober one of my home groups was an online meeting and truly, without that meeting and the 79th St. Workshop I do not know where I would be today. But since I’m off this fine Monday I am going to the 12:30 in person meeting for the very first time to sit in an actual room in person with those people who saved my life. THAT to me is a micro moment.

They say we’ll love you until you can love yourself. I think that’s something I missed back then that I’m paying for now. I love parts of myself but not my whole being – I can be this awkward human who word vomits and gets lost in so much anxiety that it feels like the entire world is crashing down on me. I was speaking to a friend just the other day who so simply said that she prayed on something and a little while later clarity and the right words came, and I genuinely thought to myself ‘wow. I miss that’. Followed by ‘What the fuck am I doing??’

I have strayed so far from my path these past few months, if I’m being fully transparent. I had a performance review at work that was more ‘areas of opportunities’ than it was ‘here’s why you’re perfect’ and it crushed me. Working from home all the time has taken a toll because I am literally never leaving this apartment. My sponsees have dwindled down into zero and that feels like a very legitimate break up. I have stopped talking to God and to be clear I absolutely do not want to drink BUT I have been to enough meetings to know I’m probably not that far off if I don’t make changes – micro or not.

My expectations for MYSELF are far too high but I compulsively feel like I must meet them all of the time. So, when I say I’m sad and I don’t know why – that’s a lie. There are a few circumstances that were beyond my control for sure. But for the most part it’s me – it’s the too high standards, it’s me crushing myself and being afraid to be vulnerable. It’s me asking for help in only superficial ways. I need help deep down on the inside, I need help loving myself and that is not what I ever ask for. Why? Maybe because it’s embarrassing. It makes me feel like a failure. It makes me feel vulnerable and weak. But at the end of the day, I am scared – and I make myself feel very alone in that place between my ears.

I promised myself long ago that I would always be honest when I write here. Sometimes I’m already thinking about the work that needs to be done after I write so I just throw things together here and call it a day and I find myself complaining or just blankly saying I’m sad and that is a band aid over a bullet wound. I haven’t told you that I’m uninspired, that I’m lost. That so many good things have also happened but there is something inside of me that’s so heavy and it’s been outweighing all of that good.

My job just last week told me that I’m doing perfectly. And when the weight of the world wasn’t lifted off my shoulders like it normally would have been because I was told I’m doing good again – that’s when I knew that somewhere along the way the rock formed inside my chest that never used to be there. And now all that’s left is God who can fix it.

Xx

Jane