Hi there and how the fuck are you? Happy, healthy, sober, and sexy, I hope. And you ARE sexy so stop it with that self-depreciation bullshit, okay ma’am?
How am I you ask? Well. That’s an extremely complicated question. I know it has been a while since my last post. My first instinct is to say that I’m so incredibly sorry for being absent, but I’m going to resist the urge to apologize because I know that I have nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes certain things have to give. Projects get put on the back burner. It’s okay to take breaks. The things that are important to us ebb and flow. Things change… sometimes forever… and sometimes things change for just a few minutes (months). The bloggy blog just had to hold on for a second so that mama could figure out what the fuck was going on.
The most frequent piece of advice that I’ve received over the past few months has been the adamant direction to do whatever it takes to stay sober. So that’s what I did. And whatever it takes meant putting my head down, pushing through obligations, and getting out the other end without a drop of liquor going down my throat. And not a drop did, thank God. It easily could have been a disaster. But it wasn’t, and I’m coming up on 7 months sober in a few days.
I’ve been in this really intense funk that has at times been slightly frightening. It all started on August 30th when I found out a friend had passed away. I never really considered drinking over it, but it shook me to my core and dramatically shifted my trajectory on this recovery journey of mine. It felt as if I was knocked off my high wire and I was no longer standing on my own two feet. Instead, I was crawling on a thin and shaky surface at risk of falling at any given moment. It also felt as if I had spun myself around for hours and was then asked to continue crawling on the same straight line I was walking before everything became murky and sad. I was disoriented, depressed, and my entire reality became something that was significantly darker. Harder.
I also began work on the presentation of one of my plays. This was an obligation that I put into motion months earlier thinking that I was ready and that it wouldn’t be an issue. Honestly, if it weren’t for the death of my friend, it might have ended up being completely fine. Instead, I started moving into preparations for the show while already on extremely uneasy legs and ominously shaky ground. Contracts had already been signed and there was little that I could do to get out of the situation without causing myself significant trouble professionally. So I pushed forward.
I’ve spent the past few months feeling as if I might lose my mind. There were many instances where my anxiety and stress levels reached a point that resulted in me bursting out in tears and acting somewhat inappropriately. There were some meetings that I literally walked out of because I just couldn’t take the panic that was washing over me. There were also moments of extreme clarity where I would laugh at myself and think OK, GIRL. CALM THE FUCK DOWN. THIS ISN’T THAT BIG OF A DEAL. BABIES WILL NOT DIE IF YOUR PLAY ISN’T AMAZING. Those moments of clarity seemed so real, and I would convince myself that I had turned a corner and everything would be okay. An hour later I would be on the floor hyperventilating and bawling about how my brain just couldn’t handle the stress.
TOO MUCH, TOO SOON is a VERY REAL thing. FYI (For Your Information). But what’s really fucked up about the whole thing is that I didn’t KNOW that it was going to be too much until I had already fucking bit off way WAY more than I could chew. And like I said, maybe dealing with JUST the death of the friend would have been manageable. Maybe dealing with JUST the show would have been okay. But some bitch somewhere decided it would be real cute to throw them both at me simultaneously. And it turned me into a psycho that would start crying if the toothpaste accidentally fell off my toothbrush before I got it to my mouth (true story).
Things are calmer now, but I’m still feeling the effects of the past few months. I’m shell shocked. I feel creatively and professionally whiplashed. I feel compelled to get back to work on a new project because that’s just how I’m wired. But I’m resisting. I’m sitting still. I’m making myself stop, reflect, assess, and wait. I’m going back to my base. I’m getting back in my bubble. I’m returning to the necessary work that my recovery requires. I’m meditating on balance. I’m thinking hard about how and why I do things. There are DOZENS of blog posts that I could write as a result of this single paragraph. And I will. But I’m not going to rush myself and I’m going to take this at a pace that is right for me from now on. I know I used to write often and I might again at some point, but for now I’m just going to take it easy.
Here is what I have learned:
- When you think you are ready to take on the entire world, maybe don’t.
- It’s okay to set boundaries that might upset others in order to maintain your sobriety.
- Service to others is important, but it should not come before your own sobriety,
- The best way to stay sober during difficult times is to NOT FUCKING DRINK AT ALL NO MATTER WHAT, OKAY?!
- It’s okay to be quiet for a while.
- PAWS is real and persists for quite a while (at least for me).
- Death is a really hard thing to deal with sober. I can’t imagine how awful it would be if drunk.
- You CAN eat too much ice cream.
Much love from New York City. Let’s keep going.