Today I sat in my 12 step meeting and I wept. It’s all so strange. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, winded, & I am finally able to breathe again; I can finally look back at what was. & it’s painful.
It’s also beautiful, & freeing, & the gratitude I have catches me off guard, & causes me to cry in speechless awe. But it’s so strange — it’s so strange to say goodbye to a thing I thought was solid. It’s strange to say goodbye to the woods, to the love, to the dream.
It’s painful, & strange.
I can see it all with infinite more clarity now, & I can see that life unfolds as it should for reasons far beyond my comprehension, but it’s still so much to digest. I sit in a place today — in a silent void of the grief of yesterday, & the love of tomorrow — I sit here sort of frozen, sort of unable to move, sort of struck by both sadness & hope all at once. Today I am 350 days sober, today I can see how fragile sobriety is, how much it demands, & how utterly blessed I am to have escaped her fierce claws.
I was given a gift the day the heavens told me I needed help, I was given the gift of sobriety. This gift changed me. It changed everything, & my heart is so deeply tender as I reflect on what these past 350 days have been.
I lost everything.
I also gained everything.
Today I feel the forgiveness of yesterday, I feel ready to lay pieces to rest. Today I also feel the vulnerability of what it means to heal, & to open a shattered heart back to love again.
It’s a beautiful, messy, chaotic journey, & I’m grateful.
I’m grateful for the pain.
I’m grateful for the love, the unconditional love.
I’m grateful for the treasure I found at burning man.
I’m grateful for this memory (picture) I have in the woods, of a time where for a brief moment, I felt heaven on earth.
I’m grateful for the healing pilgrimage I’m on.
350 days, a lot can change — everything did — & I think, although it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever faced, I think I’m pretty lucky.
On my knees tonight.
In gratitude. •