Discombobulated. That's where I am. An emotional roller coaster, lost in the onslaught of memories as I break down the glorious walls I built to protect myself. Eff this noise. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time becomes one moment, one breath.
10 FUCKING MONTHS SOBER.
This is it, I have now reached the point where I have been without alcohol (or drugs...but that’s a different story) for the longest stretch since I first got drunk at 19. Yup. 10 months. Excuse me while my brain throws it's monthly tantrum over me still being in the thick of this shit.
Therapy has gotten shitty. We see 3 therapists: one each and a couple's guru. They are simultaneously amazing and HARD. Holy shit it's hard. We are both working through our own stuff and then we pile on the stuff we do together once a week too. Now seems like the perfect time to go through it all, right? Amidst parenting, trying to grow our business, barely making ends meet. Sure thing. Let's do it all right now.
But this is where we are, and it is fugly and exquisite all at once. I cry a lot. I want to tell you how awful that is, and I can't quite do it. Some days I am not sure who is running the show, 15 year old Jessica or 35 year old Jessica. They are both pretty stellar, but damn. Most days end with the same thing: a prayer to the universe, I call her Goddess...because of course. It usually goes along the lines of "I don't have a fucking clue what I am ding, so I am hoping my connection to the infinite is guiding me somewhere right." This is a long way off from how I was taught to pray, but it feels a lot more authentic.
Where am I going? What are we doing? What do I want to do with my life?
Progress is so slow sometimes as to be nonexistent, but I see it. Sometimes I feel it. Ok, that's a lie. I ALWAYS feel it, sometimes I still have to numb those feelings by ignoring them or eating chocolate.
I know what I want, deep down. I want connection and I want space. I want to grow. As a person and as our business. I want to reach more people and convince them ALL that movement is the answer. Moving better leads to wanting to live better, leads to confidence, capability, comfort, health, ALL THE THINGS. Mindset is altered as our physical perception shifts. We become more present in our lives as we sink deeper into our own bodies. How do I share this?
I don't know. So, I keep putting one foot in front of the other. Doors open, people reach out to me, connections are made, ideas shared. So many things to consider that I feel myself slipping back to my old self, shrinking. Taking up less space. Letting others speak over me. I get frustrated but I can’t voice that. I don't even know how to say it aloud to myself most days.
Why? What good does it do to not feel? Not react? Not have those fiercely human emotions? Sometimes it hurts so bad that you need to scream and cry. That's ok. Sometimes it is so fucking amazing that you need to jump and dance and laugh out loud. Sometimes you need touchy-feely moments, sometimes you need space. What would happen if we chose to live our lives based on what we needed in each moment? Fully experiencing? What would happen?
I know how hard it is. I spent years boxing up my feelings, and then inevitably they would implode from the pressure. We aren't meant to hold all of that in. I never learned to experience and release, in each moment. I held tightly to it all. Afraid someone might see. And plenty did see, when it all blew up in my face. When I was rocking myself in the dark contemplating why I was still here? Failing at my self-control. But it wasn't self-control, it was isolated containment. It was hell. It is still hell some days, right now...many days. 10 MONTHS. And here I am. Being vulnerable with myself. Being vulnerable with you. Once you hear about vulnerability y'all, it will haunt you. Don't believe me? Start right here with Dr. Brene Brown. She will school you.
Feelings are hard, y'all. They suck. They are glorious. They are big, they are tiny. Feelings are a hot mess and a beautiful necessity. But feelings are not meant for boxes, or closets, or anywhere that they are not in full view of others. They are meant to be experienced, shared, and remembered.
Feelings are what make you human.