April 29, 2013
“I’ve been rethinking California. I don’t want to live in fear of a bad “relationship” that I’m not even in, and I don’t want to live in fear of a drinking problem I may not have…I just want to live.
I want to make money to travel. The ranch = funding for my passport. It’s not backwards, it’s just going back so I can move forward.” (The ranch = the pot farm.)
Today: Day 326
The entry above was written seven months ago, at three months sober. Reading passages like this make me smile, because I feel like I’m in on a secret that my past self didn’t know. The writing reveals notions that were oblivious to me then; and I’m sure in months when I read this, I’ll see what’s oblivious to me now.
If I could go back in time and tell myself what I know now, I wouldn’t; the lessons I’ve learned have been hard earned. I feel a confident sense of accomplishment reading old thoughts, like, “I need money,” or “I don’t want to live in fear.”
I was living in fear, especially of what others thought. My insecurities were so intensely binding because everyone surely had the same opinion of myself as I did. If I felt stupid, they thought I was stupid, too. I felt ugly, therefore everyone else saw me as ugly, too. When I felt isolated, it was because no one was letting me in…It’s a huge relief to know that the world doesn’t revolve around me.
My fear of financial unsustainability was pretty sad, to be frank. The amount of money in my pocket determined my worth because I couldn’t find valuation anywhere else, certainly not from my “relationship.” The man in my life used me like a doormat and I made it easy; his negative attention was better than his indifference. The weight of my importance was weighed by everyone but myself.
In the “grand scheme of things,” (I don’t really like that phrase) ten months can be considered the blink of an eye, but the past 10 months have been the most literal a “journey” has ever felt to me, and it’s been by physically staying in one place.
My mind, on the other hand, has come light years further. Recently I haven’t been bound by negativity, and I’m less afraid of the “uncomfortables.” (Scientific term there). I have unguarded moments all the time, and they’re okay. I haven’t fallen apart at change or lost my mind in monotony. I’ve coped at the loss of life; I’ve gotten better at recognizing which lives I need to walk out of. I respect myself by doing estimable acts. I’ve also learned that my self-development comes most from helping other people, which is the backbone of my growth and destroying self-centeredness.
I hope the old Faith doesn’t hijack my brain, and I know it’s possible. I’ve learned these lessons but I know I can forget as soon as tomorrow. My recovery relies on living in faith, not fear. Staying sober means knowing that I’ll never stop learning, that I need to keep going to meetings, help others, ask for help, and writing down where I am on the “journey.”