Four Months Sober, And Miserable?
I was rummaging through some old papers and found a journal I wrote in during my first year of sobriety. What a gift it was to find! This entry was from September. I was four months sober.
“One day at a time” * “Easy does it” * “Keep it simple” * “Don’t leave until the miracle occurs.”
Rushing thoughts through my mind. What do I do with the shit that I feel? Sobriety feeling like a game of Russian Roulette; one false move, triggered, dead. I walk through life with Band-Aids over my eyes, nothing seen, nothing real, nothing hurts. “No pain, No gain.”
I wipe the tears from my eyes for others now, trying desperately not to cry my own. What did I think I was doing? Running from the inevitable? Jails, institutions, and death to look forward to; “yets” to be discovered, to be continued.
Feeling like shit, looking marvelous. WHY? Acting out, feeling lost, someone pinch me.
If life is what we make it, I chose Hell overall. I chose darkness over light every time.
WHERE IS THE FUCKING MIRACLE???
I’m drowning. Someone help me, I’m drowning! It’s getting harder to breathe and I’m suffocating! I can’t feel anymore! I want to be numb.
I’m so fucking lost. Please help me find me, please help me search.
I know I’m around here somewhere.
I can hear myself breathing.”
I am so grateful that I found my journal, and this very entry today. I needed a fierce reminder that everything passes. That day, thirteen years ago, I had no idea how wonderful this journey could be; how amazing life could get. If I hadn’t trusted the process and stayed sober, I may not have had the opportunity to find out.
Thanks for believing in me until I could. XO
Julie Maida has been in abstinence-based recovery since May 2, 2000. She is fiercely determined to advocate for and connect ALL women with the appropriate support and resources necessary to achieve their personal recovery goals. She writes about mothering with mental illness at juliemaida.me.