Redefining Success

My driver’s license was suspended in 2015 after my second DUI and I haven’t been able to get it back since. Not being able to drive limits the jobs I am able to take. If the job is not within walking distance it is out of the question. Having a criminal record also hinders the hiring process. Next week I am interviewing for a job that I am two degrees and ten years of experience overqualified for, which has sent me into a raging shame spiral.

Society, white patriarchal norms, and late stage capitalism have painted a narrow view in my mind of what it means to be successful: a husband, a six figure job with health insurance, kids, a mortgage, a pool, a mini van, fancy vacations, botox, etc. In a few short months I will be 35 years old. Interviewing for an entry level job feels like the opposite of success. It feels like I am way behind in life, like I am a fuck up, like there must be something wrong with me. It feels unfair that my trauma and mental health problems were criminalized, and therefore, “success” became unreachable.

Yesterday while walking my dog at our favorite park, I had an epiphany. What if I can create my own definition of success? What if attempting to fit into this sick society is at the root of my addictions? What if, after all I have been through, simply showing up for my life is success?

And then, this morning my daily Mantra Project email from Holly Whitaker said: “Zen priest Norman Fischer says that the point of our lives is nothing more than to develop compassion, connection, love, and friendliness. That’s IT. Those are the big things we’re here to do! To love more, to love one another, to be friendly to ourselves and each other, to lead with our hearts.”

This (not the pythagorean theorem or the periodic table) is what we should teach kids in grade school. This is how success should be measured. Success has nothing to do with my SAT score, what college I get into, the amount of wealth I accumulate, my job title, or the square footage of my home. Success has everything to do with the amount of love I have in my heart. It has everything to do with how I treat myself and others.

At this point on my journey, success looks like loving myself enough to remain teetotal while living in a society that is obsessed with alcohol. It looks like eating enough calories, getting enough rest, showing up for therapy and Tempest calls, taking good care of my precious pup, being outside in nature, regularly engaging in my creative practice, meditating, and stepping into a new job role with self-compassion. Success is not measured by my “criminal” background or by money. It is measured by how well I tend to my roots and to my soul.

As my entry-level job interview approaches and my negative self-talk rises, I will remind myself that I am already successful. I will quiet the shame spiral with self-love. The Universe has not dealt me the most ideal hand of cards, but it has given me the Queen of Hearts. It has given me the gift of love, which is all I need to be truly successful.

Progress.

“We are more likely to think the point is to be miserable and survive

than we think the point is to love and thrive.”

-Holly Whitaker

Leaning Into Uncertainty

The Universe has been throwing me some serious curveballs lately. Last week my partner and I were supposed to move to a new town. I put in two weeks notice at my job. I started packing. I was excited for a new chapter. And then, just two days before our move in date, we viewed the place for the first time. The carpets had not been cleaned, the ceiling was covered in cobwebs, and there was a frisbee-sized grease stain on the stove. We decided it was too dirty and too overpriced. The move didn’t happen.

So here I am: unemployed during the holidays and forced to lean into uncertainty. Bah humbug.

Sure, I could go back to my old job. But while driving thru Taco Bell last week, I noticed a sign that said they are hiring and paying entry level workers $4 more per hour than my previous shitty kitchen job was paying me. And I have a culinary arts degree, for goodness sakes. Don’t get me wrong, my old job did teach me some important lessons and got me back on my feet in early sobriety. However, Taco Bell helped me decide that I am done being overworked and exploited with my level of experience.

It has been one week since my last day of work. For seven days I have been complaining about feeling cooped up and bored. And yet, all of this downtime has made me realize that I have been running myself ragged for an entire year as a way to avoid pain and difficult emotions. I have been overexercising and ignoring my body’s hunger cues. My shoulders and neck are constantly sore from all of the tension. I am malnourished and desperate for a change, which is exactly what the Universe has given me. It might not be the change I was expecting, but it’s still a change nonetheless.

The good news is, I am sober. And miraculously, this curveball has not made me crave alcohol. I can trust that the Universe will catch me because, for the first time in my life, I trust myself enough to not drink. Thankfully, I have enough money in my savings account to survive on for an entire year. Even better, there is a new coffee shop opening just two blocks from me in January. I will be okay.

Quotes always seem to appear in my life when I need them most. This one is no exception: “Her nervous system had been through so much. She decided to spend the rest of her life calming the inflammation. Thoughts, feelings, memories, behavior, relations. She soothed it all with deep, loving breaths and gentle practices. The softer she became with herself, the softer she became with the world, which became softer with her. She birthed a new generational cycle: Peace.” 

-Jaiya John

Maybe this is my chance to step into a softer way of life. Maybe I don’t need to push myself to the point of breaking anymore. Like the quote says, my nervous system has been through more than enough. All I need to do is focus on renourishing, resting, and breathing until another work opportunity falls into place.

All I need to do is be gentle with my body.

All I need to do is cultivate a little more peace.

All I need to do is slow down, lean into uncertainty, 

and trust that the Universe has given me exactly what I need.

Progress.

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

The holidays are here. There are only 37 more sleeps until Christmas morning. For most of my life this time of year has come with a mixed bag of heavy emotions. My overly sensitive heart throbs like an exposed nerve during the holidays. Grief, pain, loneliness, and even addiction seem to intensify amongst the hustle and bustle and excessive spending. Ever since experiencing the holidays in rehab in 2015, I seem to be acutely aware of the fact that some people don’t receive any gifts or have anyone to celebrate with.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s even possible to show up for holiday parties centered around my two drugs of choice (food and alcohol) and pretend like I’m fine with all of this bubbling beneath the surface. Sometimes I think the decorations, the lights, the carols, and the gifts are all superfluous. Sometimes I feel like the Grinch.

This morning while doing a little work in Glennon’s Doyle’s Get Untamed journal I came across a concept she calls Easy Buttons and Reset Buttons. Glennon writes, “Easy buttons are the things that appear in front of us that we want to reach for because they temporarily take us out of our feelings, pain, and stress. They do not work in the long run, because what they actually do is help us abandon ourselves. You know you’ve hit an easy button when, afterward, you feel more lost in the woods than you did before you hit it.”

Reaching for a temporary dopamine hit during the holidays feels natural. We all do it. This is not something that is unique to sobriety. Shaming myself for occasionally using an Easy Button won’t make the season any brighter. Luckily, Glennon says Reset Buttons are the tools I can use to recenter myself. They are things that make staying with myself a little more possible.

Glennon suggests making a list of Easy Buttons and Reset Buttons. My list of Easy Buttons includes: weed, alcohol, food restriction, oversleeping, overspending, overexercising, excessive caffeine, mindlessly scrolling social media, losing myself in political rage, procrastination, and isolation.

Conversely, my list of Reset Buttons includes: quiet time, writing, reading, hydrating, having a snack or a meal, hot tea or cocoa, deep breathing exercises, Grey’s Anatomy, podcasts, coloring books, meditation, crying, Taylor Swift, candles, cozy blankets, limiting social media and news, taking a short walk outside, bubble baths, and cuddling with my dog.

Numbing out with Easy Buttons ultimately leaves me feeling like garbage. Reset buttons might not completely eliminate difficult emotions, but at least they won’t leave me feeling even worse in the long run. Reset buttons should feel cathartic and reinvigorating.

One of the most well-known lines from The Grinch is: “The Grinch hated Christmas - the whole Christmas season. It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight. But the most likely reason of all, is that his heart was two sizes too small.”

I can definitely relate to feeling grumpy, unpleasant, and antisocial during the holidays. But, unlike The Grinch, I think it’s because my heart is actually two (or three or four) sizes too big. As a highly sensitive human, I am overwhelmed by all of the pain and all of the joy. 

I’m not a mean one (🎵Mr. Grinch🎵). 

I’m just a super soft one, (🎵Miss Grinch🎵) 

who happens to gravitate toward Easy Buttons during the holidays.

Thankfully, this year I have a list of Reset Buttons to help fill the season with a little more comfort and joy.

Progress.

“Maybe Christmas (he thought)

doesn’t come from a store.

Maybe Christmas

perhaps means a little bit more.”

-The Grinch

Welcoming Winter

This morning my 5:30am walk with Ted was greeted by the first snowfall of the season. Last week Ted and I took our final bike ride of the year. The 10 day forecast does not have a single day over 40 degrees. The onset of Daylight Savings Time has me ready for bed by 6pm. After an abnormally warm fall, winter has finally arrived.

If you’re anything like me, this is by far the most challenging time of year for my mental health. Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is a real thing. My melancholy peaks in the darkness. For most of my adult life, drinking and eating disordered behaviors have been used to numb out these seasonal feelings of sadness. Earlier sunsets gave me an excuse to uncork a bottle of wine earlier in the day.

In order to bring a little extra light to this dark time of year, I started re-reading a book called Wintering written by Katherine May. May writes, “Plants and animals don’t fight winter: they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives that they lived in summer. They prepare. They adapt. They perform extraordinary acts of metamorphosis to get them through.”

I like the idea of welcoming this season instead of fighting it. Creating new routines helps me adapt. I have prepared by stocking my pantry with cocoa, herbal tea, and soup fixings. Instead of daily bike rides, I get to slow down, cocoon, and hibernate. Stringing twinkle lights all over the house brings a soft glow that saves me from total darkness.

This book talks about the importance of winter and the importance of our cyclical nature. Winter is an opportunity to gaze inward. It’s a time to cozy up with our emotions and deepest desires. It’s a season to indulge in extra rest and extra care. Sure, feeling blue will happen, but that doesn’t mean I need to run from it. Just because I feel sad doesn’t mean I am a sad story.

Choosing sobriety creates space to move through this difficult season with extreme gentleness. Winter offers us liminal space to inhabit. There’s no need to refuse it. There’s no need to pour liquid poison down my throat in order to survive. In my experience, drinking only made my sadness and darkness worse. It only made it harder to see the light.

“We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again,” says May. This time of year is a reminder that nothing in life is permanent. Change is the only constant. Moving through this season in softness and grace is the only way forward. Eventually spring will arrive and the work of blooming will begin. But for now, I will welcome my doom and gloom with cozy candlelight and excessive self-comfort.

Progress.

Two of my other favorite books to read during winter are:

Bittersweet by Susan Cain

Rest is Resistance by Tricia Hersey

Attitude of Gratitude

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about being angry. Anger has been a major theme in my life and in my writing for most of 2022. If I am being totally honest, I think I have used anger as a source of fuel in order to survive this difficult time. Yes, anger is a natural part of any healing process. But what happens when it grows? When it goes unchecked?

The day after I wrote the It’s Okay to Be Angry post, I got sick. This makes me wonder if chugging continuous acid anger eventually causes the body to break down. It would make a lot of sense if that was true. Anger dysregulates my nervous system. It makes my shoulders and my jaw feel tense and sore. It makes it difficult for me to listen, to take in my surroundings, to properly nourish my body. Anger can create a life of tunnel vision; all I see is negativity.

About three weeks ago I signed up for Holly Whitaker’s 40 day Mantra Project. This consists of a daily email with a small written blurb, a few quotes, and a daily mantra. The day after I wrote the angry post and the day I got sick, the mantra I Have an Attitude of Gratitude serendipitously appeared in my inbox.

Holly writes: “My gratitude practice goes like this: Every time a thought creeps in to tell me about what I don't have or haven’t done, it is “simply” (and by simply I mean with a lot of work) replaced by gratitude for what I have.” According to Holly, the anecdote to anger is gratitude. I can sit here and make myself sick with anger over the things I don’t have OR I can choose to be grateful for the things I do have.

Today I am grateful that I woke up without a hangover

I am grateful for Tempest

I am grateful for my dog

I am grateful that I am no longer in legal trouble

I am grateful for all I have learned on this 10 year recovery journey

I am grateful to have a roof over my head and the ability to pay my bills

I am grateful for my huge heart

I am grateful that I have held down a job for the past 14 months

I am grateful to be alive

I am grateful for all that my body does each day

I am grateful for writing

I am grateful for so many things

When I take the time to reflect on all of the things I am grateful for, my anger is reduced. I am able to exhale a sigh of relief. My body relaxes. Gratitude is like a chill pill for my dysregulated nervous system. Sure, anger might still travel with me, but gratitude helps keep anger from fueling my bus. Anger takes a back seat when gratitude is driving.

I still believe that it is okay to be angry. All emotions are welcome. However, I no longer believe it is okay to shield myself with anger. It won’t protect me. If left unchecked, it will eventually make me physically ill.

Today I will mend my heart and my body with an attitude of gratitude.

Progress.

I wrap myself in a blanket of love

Most nights while curled up in my bed attempting to drift off into a sweet slumber, my mind begins to race. The stillness and the quiet allow unwanted memories to surface making it difficult to fall asleep. Last night, for example, I began ruminating about the shameful things I did while drunk, about the people I hurt, about the many bridges I have burned. Thinking about the years of self-neglect makes me feel a bit nauseous.

One of my favorite tricks for dealing with these traumatizing flashbacks is to close my eyes and imagine my past self wrapped in a blanket of love. The blanket that I imagine is purple and fuzzy and all encompassing. It helps me swap out shame for compassion. The blanket surrounds my past hurting self with grace. It whispers sweet nothings of forgiveness and kindness. It reminds me that the things I did while drunk do not make me a bad person, they simply make me a human who attempted to self-soothe in a messy world.

Wrapping myself in an imaginary blanket of love creates space for healing. It helps me tread lightly into those memories instead of continuing to forcefully numb them out. My past and present selves do not deserve further neglect. I deserve to be loved and cared for. Wrapping those tender memories in a blanket of love is an act of self-care.

With the colder, darker months upon us, it can be easy for me to get lost in a sea of doom and gloom. My unwanted memories live in the dark. But this year, with a little imagination, I can greet the darkness of my past with the softest, fuzziest purple blanket of light and love. I can cozy up to those memories instead of allowing them to interfere with my precious hibernation.

I wrap myself in a blanket of love.

Progress.