I'm feeling pretty good this week. Why?
Well, for starters I'm eating well. After my cake eating binge on Sunday (literally ate half a lemon sour cream cake dripping with sugar syrup mmmmm) I've sworn off wheat and sugar and dairy for two weeks and now, three days into it, I'm feeling strong and proud and fine and dandy.
Secondly I'm moving my body and getting into nature regularly. I'm doing yoga at home still - yes! I'm going for walks around the hills in my neighbourhood with my girlfriends. I'm running around after my kids as per usual. And I'm attending my regular Tuesday night yoga class.
Thirdly I'm forcing myself to get more organised and focused on my new writing project rather than spend my down time during the day watching Netflix.
All of these things are contributing to me feeling great!
Clever, functional, healthy, positive thinking, forward moving Mrs D. Aaaahhh the joy in being so very successful.
Problem is, in two weeks time all of this could have gone to shit. I could be binging on the sugar again, spending far too much time watching tele, turning down offers to walk, failing to do any yoga at home and generally just wallowing in my piggy, lazy, unhealthy mindset.
If only I could be consistent!!!!! If only I could maintain a perfect perfect lifestyle 100% of the time.
Sadly that is not my reality. Consistency is not my strong point.
But you know what? I can't be bothered worrying about that right now. For fucks sake, I accept who I am, cake-binging warts and all. If I slump into a pit of lazy despair in a few weeks so be it. Knowing me I'll lift up again afterwards and end up feeling like I do now. That's how I roll.
I'm a work in progress.. not a problem to be solved. And of course there is one MAJOR thing that I am able to remain consistent at, and that is not drinking alcohol ever. If this the only thing I ever manage to stay consistent at for the rest of my life then that's ok with me.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Thursday, March 2, 2017
Sometimes I look at my boys rattling around the kitchen being noisy and cheeky and can't quite believe that they're going to be men one day. Big grown men looking after their own lives and families.
And I get this swelling in my chest and I fill with overwhelming emotion. A whole heap of love, a bit of fear (will everything turn out alright?), some guilt (why did we have that massive fight about salami yesterday?), sadness (they won't be living with me forever), and finally happiness and contentment (look what I have right in front of me right now).
Oh my goodness just started crying while I typed this. Emotional me. I am very emotional nowadays!
Everything since I stopped drinking booze has been about my feelings. About how they were squashed under concrete following years of boozing. About how they burst out of me with overwhelming intensity when I first got sober. About how I struggle to deal with them as my alcohol-free life goes on.
Sometimes I hate my feelings and think they suck balls. Sometimes I find them really intense and lovely like the ones I'm feeling for my sons right now. I'm actually typing this standing in the kitchen with 20 minutes to go until we head out the door. They are playing Moana songs and singing along and making bread rolls and practicing scooter tricks and playing with the dog and chatting to each other. And here I am in the corner middle aged, sober, lumpy and bursting with feelings.
I am such a hyper-emotional and super-sensitive person nowadays. Maybe I have always been this sensitive and my drinking was to dull things and make them manageable? I cry watching sentimental television programmes or hearing sad stories on the news. I feel very acutely when nerves are creating butterflies in my tummy or stress tightens my chest. I respond strongly when any raw emotion is expressed by another person in front of me (even if they're on the tele).
I'm not complaining. I'm up for the challenge of a hyper-emotional life, warts and all. I'm up for the challenge of sobriety - have been since day one and now at day 2004 I'm just as game.
As Sarah Hepola said in her brilliant book 'Blackout'; "Sobriety is full throttle. No earplugs. No safe distance. Everything at its highest volume. All the complications of the world, vibrating your sternum."
Yes indeed. All the complications of the world. The pain of loss, the shards of disappointment, the rays of hope, the satisfaction of success, the delight in being understood, and the glory of connection.
And the brilliance of a 10-year-old boy who just farted and blamed it on the dog.
Time to stop being sentimental and get these boys to school....
Love, Mrs D xxx