Tragedies in Early Sobriety

"Thank you for the tragedy, I need it for my art."

-- Kurt Cobain

Wednesday I got the text no one wants to get, "we need to talk." My heart sank, my cheeks flushed. I knew what was coming next, I clicked the call button with shaking hands, my stomach in knots, trying my best to still focus on the traffic in front of me.

He answered, voice choked with hesitation, "I've never done this before..." he paused. I didn't need to hear what came next. "It's just too much. You're too stressful. It's not fair to me. It's too much on my mental health."

I was frozen in that moment. I didn't know what to say other than "no, you can't be doing this. I need you, we planned on going through this together. NO!" I felt like a Dali painting, my world melting around me. I was supposed to fly down this weekend. You were supposed to be my sobriety accountability. You said you would be there through everything, support me however possible, you said you would be there. You told me you loved me. You were supposed to be the one. You were there through everything. I never had to explain myself to you.

I thought you were the one I would travel with, say yes to, pick out flowers and a venue with, walk down the aisle to, share a first dance, a first house, a first dog, a first big fight. Now all of those thoughts fell down around me like my tears.

I couldn't understand how I could be enough in my active addiction, at my worst, my rock bottoms, but be too much now. I am finally starting to love and know myself, advocate for my needs. My default is no longer to self destruct. And now-- I'M TOO MUCH.

I felt lost, sad, depressed, broken, shattered, confused, distraught, angry, betrayed and heartbroken. What I didn't feel, was hopeless. What I didn't do was drink. Instead, I dove into my coping skills that I have spent the last 70 days of sobriety learning. I was training for something just like this.

As soon as I made sure he knew how much he hurt me and that, NO we COULD NOT still be friends, I called my mom balling. When she heard me crying, all I hear from the other end of the phone is "what's wrong... shit." She left work and rushed home. While waiting for her, I called my sponsor. Like always, she comforted, reassured, related and gave the best advice. Heart break is the biggest spiritual growth. God does for us, what we cannot do for ourselves.

My mom and I went to Golden Gardens (a beach in North Seattle) and just sat there, feeling the sunshine and the rocky shore. Afterward, we headed home and my dad made tacos for dinner. No meal tastes as good as one after a long cry. Then, I hit the gym and sweat out all my emotions. I left too exhausted to feel sad, too tired to plan a relapse. I bought a pint of Half-Baked Ben & Jerry's vegan ice cream and curled up in bed with Adventures With Purpose (check them out on Youtube! I'll put the link at the bottom). Nothing was okay, but, I handled it the best I could. I went to bed sober and proud for making it through something that I thought I never could.

I remembered back to my first 30 days of sobriety in rehab, making a list of triggers. The first thing, at the very top of my list was losing my boyfriend. 74 days ago, I would've ended up in the hospital with a B.A.C over a .4. Instead, I did all of the things that are suggested of me. I leaned on my family, my sponsor, the women from A.A, my sober friends, my higher power. I did what I knew how to best-- survive. Surviving looks different in sobriety than in active addiction. Surviving now isn't making sure I have 3 bottles of wine stored away "just in case." Surviving now is having a phone list, a hope, and usually a decent amount of ice cream and access to some form of exercise.

I woke up the next day, Thursday, still heartbroken. Nothing was different, but I still did my best. I made my bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face, took my meds, and continued on anyway. Life goes on, as long as I'm sober, even if I'm not okay-- things will be okay. I have a higher power who is enabling me to build a life beyond my wildest dreams. I have no idea what this life will look like for myself, it doesn't include the man I thought it would, my knight in shining armor who rescued me from the depths of my alcoholism. It will be something bigger and brighter than I can ever fathom on my own.

If you're reading this, and you know who you are, I'm sorry that the person I'm growing into was too much for you. I'm sorry that realizing my own worth and asking of you for the things I needed for my sobriety were too stressful. I'm sorry that shedding my old skin, my old ways of living, that becoming radically honest wasn't what you wanted of me when you wanted me to get sober. If I'm too much, that's okay. You can find less.

Random Plug:

FAVORITE YOUTUBE CHANNEL AT THE MOMENT: https://www.youtube.com/c/AdventureswithPurpose