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.
I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable 