In less than 6 months, I will be turning 50. For the first time in 30 years, I will celebrate sober. A little over halfway through the journey, sometimes I feel regret that I waited so long to discover inner peace but also many days I feel upset that I can’t party like a rock star anymore! Maybe that feeling will fade as 120 days rolls into 200, 365 and more. More time of living in the present and fully engaged.
In many ways, my newfound sobriety has brought me back full circle to the things I have always loved, especially COMFORT. I am a homebody (though this is surprising to many) who loves my couch, family, warmth of the sun or a roaring fire, homemade meals and simple pleasures.
I think the bare-boned honesty it takes to admit one is powerless over a person, place or thing brings with it comfort and liberation – so really, I have just come “home.”
I realized I had accepted my “lot” as a “recovering alcoholic” when I found myself daydreaming about having a pair of Birkenstocks and a good tea kettle. Chuckle and snort, though I may about this, the darned truth of the matter is: I AM HAPPY WITH MYSELF!
There are messes our family must deal with left behind from my years of selfish self-medicating, at the top of which, of course, is my habit of overspending. But, my God! 4 months ago I could not have stayed clear-headed long enough to even research where our money was going much less devise a plan to resolve it.
A good friend is helping me re-vamp my resume, too. THIS would never have happened when I was drinking. She cannot believe I don’t have any “professional” self-esteem. I can’t believe there is someone out there that sees something I can’t see, but I am willing to dig further, to consider some truths about myself and put myself in the ring of competition for whatever rewarding career awaits me next. I must do this, not only for myself and my family, but because things are going too well to just sit on my couch (as much as I love it!) for the rest of my life.
Push Push Push. I think I can until I know I can – the Little Engine that Could. This is me at 49, a little war-torn and rough but loving the journey and thanking God every day I wake up sober.
