I made it a year without drinking.
No plans to go back to it, either. Almost 14 months sober and going strong.
Tag: alcohol
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Three days shy of eight months sober.
The last time I strung together eight months of sobriety was in 2016, over six years ago, & I relapsed shortly after that anniversary. Took me until last summer to get help. I’m scared to be here again. My brain says I’ll fail, & it doesn’t help that I just got taken off one of my meds, a mood stabilizer, so my mental health’s currently curled up in a corner crying somewhere, thirsting for a drink. Or 14.
Going through withdrawal from this med is weird because I’m realizing it numbed me from my anxiety, my rage, my sadness & mania, but also from my happiness. I’ve cried countless times in the last few days, but I’ve also started singing in the car again. Noticing how the sunlight filters through the trees into my room while I’m working. Appreciating my loved ones more, smiling from the love I feel for them.
I’m happy & I’m sad; I’m elated & scared. And I’m okay with feeling all of these things, because I know I can handle them as long as I stay sober.
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3am thoughts
My brain won’t settle down.
It’s been screaming for vodka for days, which I’ve ignored, so now it’s feeding me a romanticized version of my life as a drinker. And it’s starting to get to me.
I’m not going to drink but God this gets so beyond tiresome sometimes. Sometimes I just want a normal brain, not an alcoholic one, not a sober one, not a “one drink away from disaster” brain.
I love my sobriety and am so grateful for it but moments like these where my brain’s just chipping away at my resolve are exhausting and I don’t feel like hunting for the lesson that I’m sure is buried somewhere in all of this.
I am tired.
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reflections.
There was something unnerving about the way I reveled in my pain.
Alcohol allowed me to reside there permanently.
I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable 