I’m afraid I’ve been making myself miserable.
This winter has been hard. I’ve often been very down, unhappy, depressed. Yet I look at the snowbanks and take pleasure in the size of them. I think I’m handling the dark and cold better than I usually do. But the negative thoughts and feelings clearly say that I’m not.
Although I’ve been feeling a bit better these last couple of days. Out of the blue, not sure why, but it’s good. Maybe that’s why I’m finally reaching out to all of you again. And I know it’s healthy for me to take this step, a step forward instead of the backward-facing thing I’ve been doing lately.
I’m happy to be coming up on 450 days, but I’m simultaneously sick to death of counting them. I’m happy to feel healthy and free of toxins, but I’m pissed off that I can’t go out for drinks or have wine in a restaurant. I’m happy to be a year sober but not wanting to keep going. And disappointed to be feeling low after all this time. And when I feel low, I blame sobriety. And I feel resentful about a lot of things, and then blame sobriety again.
I’ve been drifting from my supports for sure. No blogging. A lot less sober reading. Almost no exercise. And the result? Drinking dreams. Thoughts about drinking someday somehow. Mental torment. No wonder I’m cranky.
Faced with a night alone in the house, I contemplated a bottle of Pinot my mom left after her most recent visit. I figured I could drink the whole thing and no one would know. True. But then what? Surely I’d want to do it again. Wouldn’t I? But I wouldn’t want anyone to know. And it dawned on me – this is how people end up sneaking, hiding, feeling ashamed. A nasty snowball of actions, out of control. Wow. So I walked away from that idea.
I had such a positive outlook before, grand plans for a year of nurturing the seedlings of a healthy sober life. And instead I walked away from most of it. But thankfully it’s not too late.
Once again I’m practicing patience. Patience with a long winter, a low mood. Patience with myself. We change the clocks tonight. Spring will come. I am the sky. The clouds will blow by eventually.
Hoping you are well,