Giving a Fuck

I talked myself into a bit of a tizzy this morning- you know how you sort of convince yourself that things just aren't going the way you want them to. Like this: "Ugh. I ate that graham cracker cereal last night. I feel fat. And also so many cashews. Why can't I stop drinking so much coffee? I think coffee makes me eat sweet stuff. I'm blaming everything on coffee from now on. And I have to stay up later so I don't wake up in the middle of the night wide ass awake. The coffee again. Fucking coffee."

And I won't replay the other conversation about the GIANT zit I have forming on my chin from all the sugar I ate this weekend. It is giant, but I'm resisting the urge to mash and squeeze it until nothing comes out and I've made a huge red spot on my face that scabs and peels for a week and a half.

But y'all, at least I give a fuck.

This is my new mantra. My way of making myself seem sane when I'm making myself my own special brand of crazy.

I care about my skin and my sleep. I pay attention to what I eat and what I drink. It matters if something isn't organic, or is pumped full of chemicals. I hydrate. And try to remember to floss and brush every night. At almost six months sober just being sober isn't an excuse for me anymore. It's not a free pass to eat eight cookies, it's inspiration to do better because I know that I can.

Being sober is so much more than just being not drunk. Perhaps we can change it to being human, or being a full human instead of a half assed one. Worrying about all this shit may seem pointless but for me it shows me that I care about myself. I'm concerned for my welfare and well being. How about that!

Belle always asks me a valid question: "What if you were good enough right now?" But what if I am? And what if enough is enough, and better is more me- or to feel like me I need to kind of try things on for size to get the life that feels comfy and fits. What if coffee seems right for a while, but then I can bend another way? And that way is better? What if wondering and trying is my way?

Speaking of trying, and new, and my way- I can't run. This is heartbreaking. Running is my one thing that is ALL MINE. And I can't do it. I keep setting my alarm so I can get up early and walk, but then it goes off and I feel like what's the fucking point? So I'm going to have to wonder and try myself into doing something different for a few months until my foot heals. Another thing to gnash and gnarl over. But I am getting better at noticing when I'm not doing things because I'm fearful in a small or big way. Or knowing that I'm being a big fat ego about it. (walking? Hrumph. That is not running. Walking does not make me a bad ass. Laying in bed ignoring the alarm definitely does not make me a bad ass either!)

So I am good enough right now. And I'll be good enough tomorrow, and the day after that too. And maybe one of these mornings I'll be good enough on a walk. And I won't eat too many cookies when I'm feeling nervous. And I'll keep on trying to do better, not because it's a way for me to beat myself up, but a way to show me how much I really care, that I really really give a fuck.

Predicting the Future

I woke up way too early trying to finagle the future again. I wish there were some way to figure out the answer right now. To know the very best choice. To maybe have someone who tells me what to do and then they are always right and I live in bliss for eternity. But a real person. Who might look a lot like Yoda. And sound like Maggie Smith.

When I was drinking, my life just kind of scooched along. It was sort of boring really. The only thing I really really worried about was my drinking. It encompassed everything. It affected everything. It took up all the space in my head. It was big. And solo. A one man band.

Now, holy shit. There is a carnival going on up there. Look over here! Here's this! And that! And this! There are so many options I am starting to feel a little overwhelmed. But in a good way, mostly. The hard part is not knowing how it ends. Not knowing what really is the best choice. Where is Dionne Warwick when I need her? Psychic friends? Hello?

The hardest part of early sobriety for me right now is reigning it all in. I feel like I want to pack all the missed possibilities in. Like right now. Is it possible to be too excited about life? I don't want to go off all willy nilly and end up with handfuls of fits and starts and no results.

And then I think about all the years I spent drinking and wishing for sobriety. And now here it is. Wish come true. Whoa. I mean really. WHOA.

So does that mean that maybe my other wishes can come true, too?

My life is really big right now. It's like I've been speeding around on a windy day in a convertible. Everything's sort of blown all around. I might need some smoothing. Some refining. Perhaps a pretty scarf to keep things together.

I need to remember that I don't need to predict the future because I can trust it. Me. At the carnival. In my pretty scarf.