Reading and writing and words- oh, how I have loved these things. Held them close, cradled them, ground them out so hard my pencil lead ripped my loose leaf paper. I have written drunk, sober, angry, bored, happy, and sad. Books have saved me over and over again. I write almost every day and also have several drafts here waiting for their time to be published.
I remember when I first started writing and sharing it, freshly sober. It kept me accountable and it felt like new territory. This was ten years ago, and the internet has changed lots since then. I think sometimes I don’t publish regularly because I am afraid of being criticized or stale or something- it makes me think back to the way I felt as a teenager: never quite cool enough. And I also don’t care about this much anymore, and I do. You might know what I mean.
I think I don’t write much because I am afraid of what I have to say. The art of my words is truly chomping at the bit and I am frozen with doubt. It’s almost like once I start writing again I will change my life again and I am excited for that and also unsure I’m ready to leave this down low place. I am also so sick of not letting words fly from my fingertips- words that I will share and that will connect me to outside of me.
I keep thinking about making a deal: I will publish every Sunday, or Wednesday. Or something. I think about the way I used to write Soberbia: with a sense of purpose and curiosity. I think about how sobriety is now and how it was then, ten years ago. I want to let go of my own shyness that showed up because sometimes internet sobriety looks too cool for school and not enough regular middle aged person for me.
I also am so tired of life advice coming from every pore of the internet. I feel like I want to write but I also don’t want it to come off as instructions or me trying to sell myself. I want it to be what it was: a person sharing her life experience. It can be that, it is that, it’s just that I am also shirking my own responsibility to myself to show up and write.
Whether anyone cares or not might be the next thing I could say..and I care. I care about that, and it feels good to admit it. I don’t want to hear anyone say nothing’s stopping you, because I am not nothing. Publishing something here has been on my to do list for weeks now, and so I am publishing this. Just to open the door, to get the ball rolling.
I care. ❤️