I read and read the sober blogs. They are my sober guide and sober cheerleader. I learn what to do and what not to do; and when to do it or not to do it.
Unpickled. Belle. Mrs. D. If you’re reading this blog, you know of whom I speak and the help their honesty offers.
Even if the bloggers aren’t actively posting, their writings are still a huge help to me. Jessica, over at Soberjessie, is such a blogger. Her older posts have been incredibly helpful and I have Soberjessie bookmarked on my computer. I was excited when yesterday, as I was making my usual sober blogging rounds, I saw she had a new post up. If you haven’t read it, you should. It – and she – is amazing.
Too many times to count, I have read sober blogging posts that could have been written by me. It is my great desire, however, to not ever write a post like Soberjessie’s latest.
To my friends and family, I have not made a secret about my Not Drinking. I have also not made it a big deal. To almost everyone in my life, I make my Not Drinking a Non Topic. Nothing to see here. Let’s move the party along.
What Soberjessie’s blog has helped me understand, is that while I am humming right along, I cannot take my sobriety for granted. It is something precious and fragile. And at this point (74 days), it is like a newborn baby (this is not an original idea). So, while I have no desire to burden my friends and family with the details of my Not Drinking Baby, I cannot dismiss my Not Drinking Baby as if it was a new pair of shoes I purchased a few months ago and now take for granted as the latest feature on my closet’s floor.
Another thought I’ve had since reading Soberjessie’s post was the “how I would start” thought. “How I would start drinking again.” I’ve given this thought a not insignificant amount of time in the past day. Soberjessie tried moderation. That’s not the route I would take. I’m not interested in one glass of wine. Nope. I want the entire bottle. At least. And about three episodes of “Grey’s Anatomy.” And complete isolation.
Doesn’t that sound perfect? Doesn’t that sound pathetic?
It is, to me, both perfect and pathetic. Something to long for and fight against, at the same time.
I’ve always loved this quote by Sean Penn. His response to a “Inside the Actor’s Studio” question: “If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?”
Penn: “You’ve tortured yourself enough, there’s two hookers and an eight ball inside, come on in.”