I am bringing my voice along for the ride

Over the past eight days, my job, city, and closest relationship have been flipped upside down. I am ending one chapter, and opening new doors. This is the space where paralyzing anxiety lives, and dreams are born. While packing my things, I’ve been given time to reflect on the apartment that brought me into sobriety and the lessons I’d like to bring from this place to the next.

When I first moved here for a new job, it only took about three weeks before I was drinking prior to clocking in. After one of my worst episodes, I woke up to find a hole I had ragingly punched through my bedroom door.

Those incidents led me to find a therapist. Together, we uncovered the main reason I have used eating disordered behaviors and binge drinking to cope, is because I didn’t feel like I could use my voice. I felt like I had to physically prove my struggle to the world. For more than a decade, I thought if I got thin or sick enough, someone would come to my rescue. But that never happened.

Before I moved here, I was still using my body and blackout drinking to tell my story. I was physically abusing myself because I never learned to speak up while experiencing pain.

After nearly 15 years of this self-made abuse, I am slowly relearning the importance of kindness. A type of kindness that, for me, is only experienced while using my own voice. When I take the time to honor and heal myself, my ability to show up and speak up multiplies.

It is impossible to say what the future holds. All I know for sure is, the upcoming weeks will be difficult and messy. Moving sucks. This is a massive change. I will have triggers and probably cry twice a day. However, one comforting promise I can make myself is to bring my voice, rather than the abuse, along for the ride.