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Fighting to Become a New Me

I’m drowning, and the water is so shallow, it seems I’ve lined my pockets with stones to weigh me down. I’m lost, despite knowing exactly where I am, and I’ve thrown away the map. I’m lonely, yet surrounded by people, implying I’m intentionally gone. I’m broken, though I cannot see the cracks, so it would seem I’m shattered on the inside and only I can fix it.

I can’t pinpoint my feelings, but something happening inside of me. Am I subconsciously self-destructing?

Everything is fine! I should be fine.

My job is fulfilling and fun, my relationship is solid and my children are perfect. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am today. I’ve chased my passion, I haven’t picked up a drink or drug, and I have found a way to live comfortably in my own skin. Everything is picture-perfect, yet still, it feels like I’m standing in the middle of a beautiful kingdom, but the floor is crumbling below me, and the walls are on fire. Like the dream I am dreaming is turning into a nightmare, and the monster is my own.

My life is so hopeful, but for some reason, I feel so hopeless.

Maybe what I’m feeling is a change?? Perhaps the change is growth. I’m meeting this new woman—this new me who’s about to break free—and the process of that evolution is crippling. Maybe I feel so alone because this is something I must do on my own. Or maybe I feel lonely because the woman I am becoming is unrecognizable, even to myself.

It’s like I’m living two separate lives—the fear is agonizing—the uncertainty is even worse. How can I feel lost while knowing truly I am found?

I feel resentful and betrayed, angry at everyone one—even though no one knows what’s happening to me.

I have spent five years viciously re-creating and yet here I sit, unable to recognize myself. Am I recognizing these feelings and simply hating what I see?

I’m lashing out and feeling sorry for myself. I’m idolizing unhealthy behavior and self-harm. I’m forced to act better than I am, out of fear that now I’ll always have to fake it—so I’d better start pretending.

I’m horrified of what will happen if I live in my current truth, yet I am the one in the front row, in the best seat in the house. I’m sitting on the edge of my chair and holding my breath—holding onto every moment. I’m waiting for my past to become my present like I always feared it would.

I tell myself, “You’re cutting without a knife, drinking without booze, and screaming without making a sound.”

While my inner dialogue is spinning I hear a quiet voice—neither a whisper nor a gentle cry—a calming presence, holding me strong.

It’s the new me.

“You’ve flown without wings and fought without weapons.” As simple as that.

And she’s right.

So, here I sit, alone, waiting for the new me to take over, or for the monsters to settle, or for whatever the hell is happening to stop.

For now, I’ll wait for my mind to be rescued, at least until next time. Eventually I may lose, or I may not make it out alive, but this time I will. Because I’ve flown and I’ve fought and it’s time to do it again.

Melissa is a 29-year-old student and stay at home mom to her two boys; 3-year-old Watson and her newborn, Emerson. She is married to a wonderful sober man and they have created a blessed life in Southern California.

Melissa has been sober since 11.6.13 and is active in 12 step fellowships. She understands there are no sober blueprints, and different things work for different people. Along with addiction, Melissa struggles with mental health issues, addiction to self-harm, and has a habit of self-loathing. Through recovery, she has begun to overcome those obstacles.

One Comment on “Fighting to Become a New Me

  1. I feel every word of this so personally. I can’t believe someone put it into words. This is exactly what I’m going through.

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