This is the 13th post. Lucky number 13.
I feel lucky. Lucky this time sobriety has stuck. Lucky I haven’t had a craving to drink. Lucky I have the ability to follow through on what I said I was going to do. That used to never happen. Lucky I get to write every week to my handful of loyal friends that religiously open my email every Thursday morning (I see you and I appreciate you).
After last week’s post I spent a lot of time thinking about this little endeavor. I pondered the goal and purpose – and what I could do to ultimately make these weekly emails more exciting, interesting, shiny, etc. I could include my favorite sober products like drinks or books. I could interview sober people. I could feature other sober writers. I could make long, elaborate playlists summing up what it means to be sober. And someday I might.
But I’ve come to the realization that all that extra stuff takes time and energy. Lots of time and energy I do not have right now. What I’m currently doing is fine. It’s ok to keep these short and sweet and diary-like. They don’t have to be big productions to send a message.
I’m so focused on recovery and all these new things that come along with it like feelings and exercise and journaling and meditation and shit, my head’s spinning most of the time. And writing this thing is often the last thing I want to do because the last thing I want to think about is sobriety. Because I’ve been doing it all day. Not because I don’t like sobriety. But because now sobriety feels like such a regular part of life that writing about it is no more exciting than brushing my teeth. But I choose to make these weekly emails what I need them to be. Short, fun, random, rambling, scattered, inspirational… there’s no language arts police here.
I’m going to keep writing these (un)Boozy Bitches for you every Wednesday night like it’s my destiny ordained by the Fates and I will allow myself to be genuine and write whatever the hell my heart desires. Because even if I don’t feel like writing at times, I know the value and importance of a story. Stories can bring you hope and give you a shoulder. Storytelling is your way of saying to the world:
“I went through some really hard stuff, but if I did it, you can too and I’m going to tell you how I got to where I am today”.
You never know who needs to hear what you haven’t said. That is why I press on. It’s why I will never not write, be it short and simple or long and detailed. Especially here, in this special little safe space. It’s my duty. If I help even one person contemplate sobriety or their relationship with alcohol it will all be worth it.