have been here for a bit.
sliding downhill after my one year sober. digging myself a nice cosy pit so it will be too hard to climb out… sound familiar?
letting self care routines (meds, running, laundry) drop out of inertia. the squirrel mind taking charge and running the show.
fighting inclination to retreat back under duvet and not come out. getting lovely support from sober penpals. self-care targets set out yet again in colour-by-numbers fashion. have taken my meds this morning – can I go back to bed, now? apparently not.
no urge to drink AT ALL at the moment. however can see how if I stayed here, in the pit, Wolfie would very soon be pricking his ears up and sniffing round my door.
am posting here like pulling teeth… ‘can’t think quite how to put this bit – quick, insert image, easier than using words’…
am ok. am building ladders, yelling for help. Mr P on Code Red. long-awaited counselling sessions starting next week. run arranged with friend for this afternoon. but have no energy for new self-care initiatives. if it don’t involve biscuits I ain’t playing.
at the end of the day I have to get out of the pit myself. posting here for accountability, not drifting away. and this is all part of the process, yes?
something that is really helping me at the moment is a phrase that Ellie used in her recent interview series with Belle. Ellie said something along the lines of, “Some people’s ego tells them they are the best. My ego tells me I am the worst. Well, I don’t get to be either the best person in the world, OR the worst person in the world.” not the worst person in the world, huh? could that just possibly be true for me, too, then?
a minor thought… realised yesterday that Belle’s blog updates hadn’t been appearing in my WP reader. gah. hate it when WP (Wolfie?!) unfollows someone on your behalf…
and refollowed to realise that I’d missed about ten days of blogs from Belle…including the one with the celebration roundup with my 365 days on! and had not even noticed… used to spend so much time imagining seeing my name on that list at 365 days, and when it came, I missed the moment. that was like someone shouting at me through a loudhailer. “GUESS WHAT! being one year sober is everything except what you imagined it would be! Now, carry on, soldier…”
carrying on in a big world. thanks for listening.