The struggle of maintaining sobriety has been on my mind frequently of late, and I thought I'd share this tidbit I wrote a few months ago.

I'm practicing leaning into discomfort.

It's uncomfortable.

Music is better sober. That's something I didn't expect. I loved the hazy waves of sound emotion, but sober I still get those glorious flavors of nostalgia and joy and pain, but my brain is more nimble. Instead of one foggy dream, it's a hundred vivid lifetimes.

I thought I would lose the nostalgia. Ha. That's the existential void. How humbling.

Joy is rawer and I can focus on bringing it to the forefront. I fail sometimes, but I have a choice almost always now, not consumed, writhing, caught in some unknowable force. It's me. It's mine. It's a little broken, a little prideful. But I'm am powerful too, in my strength and perseverance as much as in my vulnerability and empathy.

I cannot control the ebb and flow of time or space. But I can control myself. My reactions, my choices. Not the impact I have. I have to let it go, good or bad, with the knowledge that I've done everything I could.

It will always change. There will always be more to learn, more to feel, more to process. That's good. That's right.

That's the journey.

I feel more alive now. I was afraid I'd feel old, afraid getting older means getting boring. I realize now that getting boring is a choice.
I also realize there will be some reprioritizing.

At 16 I was going to live fast and die young. At 18 I was going to have every (inebriated) experience. At 21 I was convinced my only qualifier would be "fuck up." Self-indulgent, but true.

And now.

Now.

Now I recognize my role as tool, an instrument, a weapon, a balm. I recognize my usefulness. It is awe inspiring and terrifying. I'm not just responsible for me now. I'm responsible for the person I must become.

Fuck.

But when my body is consistently filled with the energy of a hundred loving hearts, when my mind won't rest, weighted by the injustices perpetrated by apathy, when my arms are wrapped around my babies...
It doesn't even feel like a choice. Now it's a privilege.

Especially considering the starting point. Self-loathing, codependence, addiction...

And now.

Now.

Sometimes I weep with the joy of it. It overwhelms me. And sometimes I'm still buried deep in old pain with only a hope and a commitment to sustain me.

And it is enough.

I am enough.

This mindset is great, but I'm living now in the understanding that my sobriety cannot be for anyone but myself. It's a big part of the struggle I'm having currently, remembering why I am so much better, happier, prouder, now, over a year sober. Still workin' :)