Week 11
Direct copy and paste from twitter
11 weeks in the bag. 77 full days. 24 hour ones. Stone cold sober. This is some of what what this whiny, plant eating fuck thought about this week…
Not much this week has been too different to last. Starting to feel like I might, maybe, kinda be settling into this new(ish) way of life. Temptations are getting weaker, so that’s great. However as I’ve stated before, I need to be mindful of complacency.
My move to the coast is a week closer. Photos of my place have been taken and should have an open home on the weekend to rent the dog out. I’ve booked removalists, a handy man to tidy some shit up around home and ordered a gate to kee the big fellas in the yard at the new place.
All really good stuff and relatively big ticket items I needed to tick off to hello me be at peace with this whole move. I imagined that by now, with so much of the stressful stuff sorted, I would be more relaxed about the whole thing. I’m not though. I’m still real fuckin
Anxious about the whole thing. 98% of what I’m doing is good. There’s almost no downside to any of it. But I’m fuckin’ terrified, still. I’ve accepted that I can’t back out now and that I’ll regret it if I did. But I just have this overwhelming sense of anxiety and fear.
Anyway, I’ll sort that. I have no other choice. I’m sure a week in the new place and a few days in my new role is all it will take for me to feel ok. My onboarding at work is all but done. Most the move stuff is all but sorted. I think all of that is actually making it worse.
I have too much time in my own head. I’m doing what I can to stay busy and keep off the piss. I’ve missed one day of exercise in the last 75 days. And that was when I had a viral infection. So I’m doing all I can. I guess what this shows me is that sometimes it doesn’t matter
What you do. You literally can’t control the thoughts that flow through your head. You just gotta control the way you react to them. I have however had a bit of a realisation this week though. For some reason I started thinking about all the things I’ve done before where drugs
And alcohol have actually made things much less enjoyable. Like when Pearl Jam played Big Day Out almost ten years ago. If wanted to see them for ever. Knew they may never tour Australia again. I ate some bad pills and blacked out for their entire set. I have one single
memory from the entire set. A short, chaotic, disorientated snippet of their show where I was in a state of panic and confusion. I remember the next day and following days being super annoyed and really disappointed in myself. I was so excited for that moment, and I ruined it
For myself. I really struggled to do things sober back then. Fuck it, let’s be honest, I still struggle to do shit like that sober now, at 33 and a half. I’m trying though, to put myself out there, force myself out of my comfort zone, because outside your comfort zone is where
The good shit is at. I really believe that. That’s why it’s hard. Good shit is hard to get. I guess the overarching theme here is that I’m very, very slowly, learning that ultimately, things are better, sober. For me anyway. I feel like, having these thoughts and realisations
Might be me telling myself that it’s ok to be sober. It’s better. For me. And that when I do things sober it’s ok. I don’t need to be so anxious or scared. It’ll be an ongoing lesson for me to learn that I may never fully learn or be completely comfortable with. But, I do think
I’d starting to feel, understand and genuinely believe that this is the best thing for me, for now at least. Im scared as fuck for what the next fortnight will bring. But I understand it’s ok to be scared. In fact, I’d be more concerned if I weren’t scared.
Whilst I don’t feel completely comfortable with everything that’s about to happen, I do feel like I’m ready to do it. It’s weird, and I dunno if it makes sense to everyone else. But I’m kinda understanding that it’s ok to be scared of shit in one sense, yet confident and
Prepared to tackle it at the same time. Kinda like ripping a Band-Aid off. Like, if we’re gunna do it, let’s just fuckin’ do it. I think, or maybe hope, that as my head clears more and more, these experiences in life leave my better placed to tackle other, more challenging
Situations that life can throw at ya. Not sure if this weeks rant made as much sense as previous weeks. I’m a little tired. In fact, I’m a lot tired. So I’m going to bed. Thanks as always for the opportunity and platform to carry on about my little feelings. Appreciate it.
Have a good week ya pack o’ mongrels. Be nice to each other. Don’t be a cunt. Cheers.