I get cozy & hibernate

One of the hardest parts of recovery, for me, is learning to regulate my emotions. I have always been an extremely sensitive and emotional human. It often feels like I live in a constant state of emotional overwhelm.

When I was in middle school, binging and purging became my go-to emotional regulator. I felt forced to restrict my emotions and food in the daylight; while animalistically binging on junk food and purging to release the day’s emotions at dusk. After I finished, while sprawled out on the bathroom floor, my brain and body were exhausted to the point of blissful numbness. Years before I ever touched alcohol, this was my daily emotional regulating system.

Luckily, sobriety provides space to explore new ways to regulate my emotions. After much trial and error, I have created a new ritual: I get cozy and hibernate.

This process begins as soon as I get home from a long day at work. I slip into my favorite oversized fleece onesie PJs and fuzzy slippers. I play soothing music, boil water for tea, wash my face, and light all of the candles. I gather a giant pile of pillows and wrap up like a burrito with my dog, Teddy, in a soft blanket cocoon. I fill up my introverted cup with some cozy quiet time.

Next, while in my safe, cozy space, I prioritize a cathartic release. The word catharsis literally means to purify or purge emotions - like pity and fear - through art or any extreme change in emotion that results in renewal or restoration. My cathartic releases of choice are endless Taylor Swift and Grey’s Anatomy marathons. But, if sappy isn’t your style, comedy, cute dog videos, and upbeat dance-in-your-underwear-jams will also do the trick. Maybe a cathartic release is what my middle school self actually needed.

Once I have cozily released some of my daily emotions, I like to hibernate. When I feel extra emotional, it usually means I need extra rest. My hibernation space is free from all distractions. I don’t have to worry about my to-do list or check my Instagram. All I have to do is drift off into a sweet, lavender scented slumber. Sometimes I hibernate for 8 hours, sometimes 12, sometimes more. I have learned that by resting, I am eventually able to rise without harming myself.

I have struggled most of my life, long before ever touching alcohol, with emotional regulation. And it turns out, emotional regulation is an integral part of sobriety. What would happen if I tried to regulate my emotions with rest and self-compassion rather than numbness?

The only way through is cozy.

I am powerFUL, not powerLESS

Yesterday I was listening to Ashley C. Ford as a guest speaker on Glennon Doyle’s We Can Do Hard Things podcast. Hearing Ashley was like the motivational speech I didn’t know I needed. She might not have been talking about sobriety, but she kept using Tempest-worthy affirmations like, “I won’t give up on me,” “I’ve kept me alive this whole time,” “I can trust me to take care of me,” and “I’ve got me.”

The best thing Ashely said was, “When I let people see me, I am powerful.”

To me, this means, when I show up without any masks and allow people to see the real me, I am my most powerful self. This message from Ashley feels empowering; like it gives me a superwoman cape.

Ashley’s statement about power also reminds me of Step One from the Big Book, which says, “We admitted we are powerless over alcohol.” Step One always makes me scratch my head in confusion. If I quit drinking and let the world see me, does that mean Twelve Steppers believe I will have less or no power? Do they really believe disempowerment is the first step toward sobriety?!

This quote from Ashely seems profound because she is saying my real, sober self is powerFUL, not powerLESS. I struggled to get sober for 15+ years because of fear; fear of what would happen when I let people see the real me. Making the choice to reevaluate my relationship with alcohol and practice sobriety does not make me less powerful. Rather, it fills me with power.

Sobriety, for me, requires vulnerability and letting people see the real me. Let’s ditch this old idea that showing up as sober and real requires powerlessness, shall we? Today I will remember, “When I let people see me, I am powerful.”

I am safe in the nothing space

Yesterday, while waiting for my teapot to whistle, I caught myself thinking, “I need to sweep the floor and clean the stove. I need to do some laundry and schedule my first dentist appointment in ten years. I need to take my dog out for a walk before dark and get him groomed next Tuesday. I need to vacuum the carpet and clear off the coffee table, and then I can relax.”

Making tea is my favorite simple daily pleasure. It’s like a hug in a mug. But what happens when this time for myself gets bombarded with thoughts of a never-ending to-do list? Do I ever stop thinking about my to-do list? Is it possible for me to relax without cleaning up first? Do I even feel safe in the nothing space?

I think I developed this need for hyper-productivity as a way to both prove my worthiness and avoid my awkwardness - which creates a false sense of control. I am much more comfortable working than I am making small talk, so I never stop moving. I think twenty steps ahead and work efficiently. I will work harder than everyone in the building, even at the cost of my mental, physical, and emotional health. No one can talk shit about a hard worker.

But, when I live in this constant state of doing, I completely lose myself. I never allow for relaxation or fun or growth. I find it challenging to slow down because that means there is space for vulnerability.

So, how do I begin slowing down and create space for nothing? What if I prioritize, maybe even schedule in my color-coded planner, time for rest and creativity and extreme introvertness? What if, in moments where I catch myself obsessing, I take a deep breath instead? What if the path to healing lives in the nothing space?

What if the next time I find myself heading down the to-do list spiral of doom, I switch up the dialogue? What if I told myself, “I see what you are trying to do here, Kelsi. I know this pattern well. I give you permission to temporarily put the to-do list down. It is safe. I am safe. I know it’s challenging, but there is beauty to be found in stillness.”

I am safe in the nothing space.