When your baby steps turn into strides.

Another blog from August 12, 2016:

Today is one year, 8 months and 12 days I am sober. But more, its another day I’m overall happy. I’ve been trying to get myself to write more, and finally got around to signing into this account. And then I reread everything I’ve written. The flashbacks, the pain, the memories, the blackouts, the brown-outs, the hurt.

My what a difference the lack of alcohol has made in my life.

I never realized how much I needed alcohol until this moment. Until I saw my past-self write “how do people handle the hurt? the pain? how do people have fun?” What an amazing drug alcohol is, to be the root of the problem, but have me looking everywhere else for a solution.

Each moment in time, I’ve gotten stronger. I’ve gotten happier. I’ve gotten more capable and more confident. I’ve recently come to a place, for the first time, where I no longer wonder if people will like me. I don’t go on dates hoping to be liked anymore. I don’t hate myself. In fact, I’m now quite a fan of me.

With kicking alcohol, I kicked a lot of things. I kicked sleeping in, a lethargic life, a cheating boyfriend that I was SO sure was my guy (gag me now!). And that was hard. That was actually the hardest thing I’ve had to do in my life so far. I loved that man more than I ever thought I could love someone. I was lucky enough he cheated on me. And I say lucky because even with the verbal abuse, mental abuse, constant put downs, weight comments, and his own serious addiction, I would have left him for nothing else- except cheating.

But that broke my heart. And I am 100% certain had I of been drinking, we would be together. I would still feel so low, like I deserved it (like he always told me I did with everything else), that I would’ve tried to stick it out. I would’ve probably moved to be closer to him, to try to improve work on my outside since he said he cheated because he was no longer attracted to me, and I would’ve ran myself into the grave. It wasn’t the outside that was ever going to fix me, it was in inside that needed help.

It’s funny about that break up though. Another moment of reflection the other day made me think. I had been praying and begging and pleading with God to please tell me if this was the man meant for me. That whatever his answer, I’d take, but to please please please just tell me. I was 3.5 years in and not sure where to go. Hold on and show unconditional love (which I was trying), or walk away. Then I got my answer. And I cried harder than I’ve ever cried before. I didn’t eat for 8 straight days. I lost 11 pounds. I had to force myself to move. To shower. Smiling and laughing? Never heard of it. Everything was dark. I had been so betrayed by the man I loved the most.

But then I realized the other day, that was exactly what I had been praying for, just not the answer I had been praying for. And that was when I realized my mistake. As a woman growing closer to God (or trying), I realized how unfair it was for me to ask for any answer, get an answer, and then cry about it. And now, almost 4 months later to the day, I am THANKFUL for him cheating, because I KNOW, from the bottom of my heart, I’d still be in the same exact place I was 6 months ago, a year, two years ago.. absolutely stagnant. and miserable. So I vow to make more effort to be conscious of the answers I get when I get them. And to have a little more faith. To hope that when I am ready, and he is ready- whoever He may be- that he’s placed in my life and I can celebrate the answer with the equivalent amount of joy.

I found two common denominators in my depression. Alcohol and a bad relationship. Neither of those was I able to find happiness and peace and HOPE. And without hope, whether it be for a fun trip, a weekend of snuggling, a new job opportunity…without hope, you end in the place I was before. “what is the point in life?”

Another thing I found in reading was my depression about not getting the job transfer for the job I actually hated. I was so sad because I felt that was God telling me that this door was not meant to be. I was not meant to move home. But now I see, it’s him saying I needed to grow, and I needed to get better, and I needed to have faith. And I get that phrase now. But the blind faith of quitting my job, I spaced myself enough from my toxic boyfriend to realize I could survive without him, I found a job that doesn’t cause me hourly misery, and I found myself with people that absolutely love and adore me, which gave me the strength to try being the real me, long enough to realize I liked me.

So today, I write myself to remind me, that in the depths of despair, there is hope. That when I hit another hard spot in life, to come right back here, and read how far you’ve come. And to never, ever again, doubt God’s ability to provide and work things out.

Until next time! Which I’ll vigilantly try to make sooner..

I'm a 30 year old American female that's decided to quit my big-kid job and go travel the world. I believe in being kind to everyone and I believe in laughing, a lot. Everything else is secondary.

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