160 days

I’m over five months sober now. Crikey! I had a week or so of feeling really blah, just uninspired and restless. I was mourning the pink cloud days and getting into a bit of an ‘Is this it?’ sort of slump. One day I was feeling particularly scattered, frustrated and cranky so I did my self-care duty and went to the woods for a walk.

I’d been sitting on my butt for a couple of days and my right hip felt tight and painful. I started slowly and concentrated on the beautiful surroundings. Gradually my mood improved and I remembered how much I need physical activity to feel good. Once I got warmed up, I really got going. I was yomping along in a really strange mood that I can’t quite describe. I think ‘fierce’ is the best word for how I felt. It just crept up on me. I made sure I put on a friendly smile whenever I passed somebody in an attempt to not look weird or scary. I probably shouldn’t have worried though. I’ve been repeatedly told that I look sweet, innocent and even angelic (huh?) No matter what darkness is stirring on the inside, on the outside I apparently look about as badass as Bambi.

That fierce, determined feeling seems to have stuck around to a degree. I’ve been looking forwards and getting fired up by lots of creative ideas and life possibilities. I have a sense of being ready to open up and explore, to grab hold of life in a way I never could while drinking. The balance seems to have tipped even more away from the ‘look what I’m giving up’ thoughts towards the ‘holy shit, look what I’m getting!’ thoughts. I appreciate the shift very much and I hope it continues. I also accept that it may not. I’ll make the most of it for now.

I’ve set up a separate blog for my illustrated poems and other creative sobriety-related stuff. I want to keep it completely separate from here. This blog is more my personal warts and all, let it all hang out kind of space. The other one is going to be more of an inspirational quotes, ideas and resources spot. I’m still not ready to go loud and proud so I’m writing it under a pseudonym and the artwork is different enough from my more commercially aimed work that I won’t ‘out’ myself (I hope). If you’ve enjoyed the bits of poetry I’ve posted here then come and visit at relightinglife.com. That’s the only time I’ll link to it and I definitely won’t be linking from there to here. Yup, separate it is.

I now have that wonderfully, thoroughly tired feeling that only physical exertion can bring. I walked almost 9 miles this morning. My legs are aching and I’m hearing my bed calling my name. I wonder if I can managed an episode of Game of Thrones before I fall asleep? I’m going to try 🙂

I hope you’ve all had a good week and wishing you a lovely weekend whatever you’re up to. Love and sober hugs x

 

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Why not today?

This morning I got home after work with an aching shoulder and the feeling that I may be heading ino a stomach bug. It was a long, hard night. People were cranky and arguing and the manager moped around with a face like a slapped arse. Maybe the heat is getting to everybody? I don’t know. Despite this, the poetry muse decided to make an appearance. Seriously?! Now?! I know better than to ignore it so I got a pen and pad and off I went.

Last night I was thinking loads about a few of the recent blogs posts I’ve read. Some were from new people contemplating the possibility of quitting.  Some were from the newly sober and doubt-ridden and some from people returning for another sobriety attempt. I think this poem was inspired by you and is for you all. It’s quite long and gets a little dark but as I still have no idea where it comes from, you can complain to whoever is pushing these words into my head ;D


Why not today?

You are going to quit, just not today

What’s the rush? you think

Maybe tomorrow? I hear you say

Wolfie gives me a big sly wink

Or maybe next week? There’s an idea

One last weekend to riot

It’s a busy month, my friends are all here

Maybe next month? Then I’ll be quiet

You don’t think it wise to hurry and push

Life is for living you know

There’s always next year, what’s the big rush?

You’re still only young, time will go slow

Without your permission the years jump ahead

Plans fall apart, dreams fade and die

Yeah, I’ll quit soon, you repeatedly said

Why not today? You glower and sigh

Maybe next decade? That will be time

to slow down and settle myself

Yes, later you say. And then I’ll be fine

I still have my money, my mind and my health

Later creeps in, as quick as a flash

Breaking your body and dimming your sight

The life in your veins a dwindling stash

You’re starting to fear that long dark night

You can’t quit now! You need your best friend

The one that’s two-faced and sold you all lies

Who’s going to comfort me, right till the end?

The one that hid truth and stifled the cries

of your heart in the dark, it’s magic unfound

Your true life unlived, your time has run out

Too many laters, much skirting around

the issue at hand. Too much fear and doubt

I’m leaving you now, the false friend decides

so many will follow you here

My next victim waits for their fantasy ride

Hoping to take away all pain and fear

So long, no hard feelings, it was just a con

but maybe it’s still not too late?

For your heart to flourish and sing its song

For your eyes to open and soul to wake

So scream and shout, grieve and cry

then cast it out, don’t allow it to take

and more of your life, it’s time to fly

So, why not today? It’s worth a try


 

I’ve taken some oregano oil and some grapefruit seed extract which are truly two of the most challenging flavours on the face of the earth. They are both reputed to be potently anti-bacterial, anti-viral and hopefully anti-spending my day puking with my face in the toilet. Fingers crossed! I’m off to bed.

Have a good day folks x

 

The persistent poet

A few days ago I was sitting at my laptop trying to finish some artwork in progress. I felt distracted, restless, slightly bored and knew I was forcing myself in the wrong direction for that moment. I gave up and ended up pacing around in an all too familiar void.

What happened next was strange. I seem to have a mysterious persistent poet hiding somewhere inside me and it started poking snippets of poetry in to my consciousness. I have no idea where this comes from. I’ve had creative thoughts and ambitions in art, music, photography and some forms of writing but never poetry. If you’ve been reading my ramblings for a while you may remember my sweary ditty An ode to sparkling water. This is something I’ve never taken seriously though.

In my current spirit of surrender I decided to go with it. I plonked down on the sofa with a pot of coffee and a cheap sketchbook and pencil and then poetry just poured out of me for the next 3 hours along with scribbled ‘shorthand’ versions of accompanying illustrations. I wrote whole poems, small sections and rough ideas too – all on the subject of drinking and recovery. Huh?!

Here’s a sample:

Hangover Grey

The sun shines bright, what a beautiful day

But under the duvet your world is grey

Wake up! Let’s go!

You can’t! You know

The nauseas seeps and sadness creeps

You’re here again, you said you wouldn’t

Just one glass! But then you couldn’t

It’s every time, why can’t you stop?

It’s no holds barred once that cork pops

Anxiety grips your pounding chest

What happened last night? Was I a mess?

Your clammy head can’t face the dread

You burrow deeper into bed

It’s the weekend friend, let’s go and play

Ugh! Not today

Please go away

I know bugger all about poetry but I quite like it. Maybe I have the start of a new sober hobby or project? When the urge pops up I won’t fight it, I’ll run with it and see what happens.

Has anybody else had something like this pop up unexpectedly in early sobriety? It’s very odd.