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29 - Cash & Prizes...

Yesterday marked 29 years of living the miracle one day at a time for me.  I am sad that I didn’t have time to get this out yesterday but I was blessed with many phone calls, texts, and a busy day that interfered a little with my writing practice.  And once upon a time that would not have been ok.  I would have been upset about the disruption in routine and I would have allowed the life I got sober to have to be an impediment instead of the fucking miracle it is.


I took a cake last night with my friends and signifiant others in my life.  My estranged boyfriend and my son.  Two men who I love dearly but who have also caused me a great deal of strife, stress and heartburn.  But it was lovely to be there with all of them and to relish in the fact that 29 years is a long time to be on this journey.


The speaker last night talked about his journey of self discovery.  His penchance for men that were bad for him.  And his long and arduous road towards self acceptance.  And I could so relate.  It has been a long and arduous road.  And there have been many perils and pitfalls.  And growth spurts.  And dry spells.  And pain.  It has been this amazingly exquisite journey of self discovery that will never be done.  I will always be this mix of healed parts, healing parts and parts that seem to defy any real forward progress.  We human beings seem to be an amalgamation of festering, long standings wounds, healing salve and benign ridiculousness.


29 years is a long time to do anything really.  I mean 29 doesn’t seem like that much life to live...I would love to be actually 29 again I have so many new ideas on how I would roll my life out differently.  And at the very same time, I wouldn’t change a thing.  The people I have loved.  The people I have lost.  The chances I took that totally panned out.  The near misses that almost took me out.  All of them, every single fucking one was a vital and wonderful part of my long journey to where I sit this very morning, tucked safely in my bed, tapping out my soul one letter at a time.


29 years is a long time to be sober.  I have now been sober longer than I was alive when I got sober.  Weird.  It is a long time to be doing this self discovery and service thing.  And yet, it feels like it was just yesterday I crawled into recovery, barely hanging on by a thread.  My tether to this life thin and fraying.


Today what once was a thread bare rope has become a thick and secure attachment.  I am here doing this deal, no exceptions.  I must continue to do the work even when I really think and would prefer to be done.  It turns out there was a lot more than self hatred to be unearthed in this precarious person I have come to know.  There are so very many layers to me.  And I feel that even though 29 years is a long time, I am really just coming into my own.


Life is good.  Sobriety is even better.  I am so blessed and grateful to be here for this long.  So many people struggle and lose the fight.  I am very grateful that even with a rocky start, I eventually came all the way in and sat all the way down.  It has really changed my life, completely.


I am still out here fucking shit up on the regular.  I still have horrific intimacy issues with people, mostly especially men.  But I have become a loving soul.  I forgive, myself and others.  I love with every single part of my heart I have access to...and I also know that I am going to continue to do the work to discover all the other parts of my broken, bruised and very battered heart.  I have to, turns out that is where God hides all the cash and prizes. Right there in the depths of our hearts which is really the gateway to our souls.


And let me be perfectly clear...I am still here because of the cash and prizes.  No, not the actual cash or prizes, but the internal ones. The ones that cause me to care about myself and you.  The ones that make me grateful every single day of my life to be alive, sober and given another chance to become the person I am supposed to be.


I will forever be in a state of flux...fucking shit up, having to fix it, begin again and forgive myself over and over and over again.  And because this is the circuitous path I have been led to walk,  I have learned that every step I take in the direction of healing and light is not wasted.  Because everything I learn about myself is applicable to you.  And because there is this common bond, I can move closer to loving you, knowing you and relating to you. And sometimes, even helping you save yourself.


Nothing is wasted in God’s world...not me, not you, nothing.  And today, I am shocked and awed and amazed and fucking grateful that I get to do all this living, loving, healing and recovering...one mother fucking day at a time.


Again.


Still






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