Your Messy Guts Matter
A friend posted this on Facebook today, regarding something she’s going through — something she’s been going through, and it hit me hard. People commented, poured out love, and told her she matters right now. She matters so much, and I’m sure she knows that, but to someone else in her life – who may hold a key to new beginnings she’s been denied for so long – it doesn’t seem like she matters.
I get that.
My current situation is different, but I’m dealing with my own heartache. I had a huge hand in creating mine, but I still understand how she feels.
For the past two years, I’ve broken my own heart time and again by attempting to make a relationship work that’s just not meant to be. It was my very first “sober relationship,” and I stupidly assumed it would be different (read: healthier) than those I’ve had in the past, because I’m sober.
It was not, and is not. This relationship seems harder, and so do the break ups (read: multiple).
It’s the same every time we try to make it work, but somehow harder every time it inevitably fails again. We love each other, but we also destroy each other. We can’t seem to leave each other alone, even though we know we should. Even though we have both admitted that our very lives could possibly depend upon it.
IT IS ADDICTION PERSONIFIED. We know this; yet we return.
I’ve been sitting here all morning trying to figure out a way to make this pain go away. All by myself. I know better than that by now. I know I can’t do any of this by myself, but it’s so damn hard to reach out sometimes. It’s almost too exhausting to consider…until I see a post like my friend’s.
She’s hurting, vulnerable, and scared. She’s pissed, and doubting herself. I’m sure she’s experiencing a million conflicting emotions, but she’s not remaining silent, or sitting in secret, agonizing pity. My friend is speaking up, letting us in. She’s letting us know this sucks for her and needs help dealing with it.
No one is going to have magic words or perfect advice to fix this for her. She knows that. But she also knows how powerful sharing her pain can be, and that vocalizing it is the only way she will get relief — some freedom from her mind and weary heart.
My friend has no idea what she’s done for me by expressing this out loud. She will when she reads this.
Thank you for speaking up, and reminding me why I need to. I don’t have magic words for you. Just thank you. For giving me the insight and push I needed to be as brave as you are, and to do what I need to do for me.
Writing this is my first step. Next, I pick up the phone. I talk to people who love me and understand. I stop hiding and hurting alone, and I take my vulnerable ass to the one place I know I’ll be ok, and spill my messy guts.
I don’t need anyone else to clean up my mess or put me back together again. I just need to allow people to love me where I’m at, help prevent me from going backwards, and stand by me as I get myself to where I need to be.
Lastly, to my friend:
You matter. You make a difference. You save lives. And I really, really hope that they take advantage of the chance you are offering them to have someone as amazing as you in their lives.
This post was submitted by Reagan Post.
A Sober Mommies Contributor is most often a non-professional – in and out of recovery – with reality-based experience to share about motherhood & active addiction, the multiple pathways to recovery, or a family member’s perspective.