Today.

Today is my day. I woke up and decided that I am going to pause to look at all the wonderful things around me; people, places and things. I am going to give every ounce of anger and hurt I have in my boxing lesson tonight. I am going to continue to keep my head held high and remind myself of my worth. 

This morning the fog was kind of thick and chopped off the top of the skyline. There's something eerie about fog and I like it. 

A friend of mine and I had a nice long conversation about life. There were several things that were holding me back from being happy. 

1) never letting go of my hurt/anger towards my ex from 4yrs ago

2) using substances to quell my emotions

3) processing the deaths of my brother and dad without being in an altered state

4) feeling poorly about my body because I had gained quite a bit of weight back

These are the things I've done to counteract those:

1) the day I got my tattoo, I woke up from a dream with my ex in it - we had an opportunity in said dream to hash out what happened to us and I was able to provide support for her as a friend. I woke up feeling peace in my heart about that. It may be the only closure I ever get...and I am letting it be the only closure I'm going to need. I feel lighter emotionally as a result. 

2) I haven't used anything to get away from my feelings in 16 days. I have been forced to look at myself and analyze and find ways to repair and build up. Panic attack sets in, call a friend...walk to the cafe...distract. Sad about dad or Andrew or Morgan....cry, feel it, process it, get it out and move on with the day. It has been really hard (although this week is much easier than the first) but I feel good when I come out on the other side knowing I did the right thing and used a different, more healthy coping skill. 

3) I've been allowing myself to think about Andrew and dad a lot. I used to either get messed up or just ignore it when I would think about them. Letting myself feel sad and grieve in a clear headed manner has helped me to process some of these feelings. 

4) I've gotten back to the gym, I start private boxing lessons today, I have lost 17lbs. I am trying to look at me the way I want others to look at me. 

I can do this...actually, bump that....I *AM* doing this....and it feels really damn good. 

Wasted.

Time. Energy. Brain cells. Money. Time with people I love. Feelings. Tears. Days after. My body. All things that I've wasted. I used to love it. It used to be my favorite. Until I realized how much wasting I was doing when wasted. I look at pictures and think "oh what a great picture!" and then my mind fasts forward to what happened after that millisecond capture. I passed out on the table at the restaurant, I picked a fight with the cops at the bar, I told everyone I was with to fuck off, I cussed Morgan out, I said mean things, I broke my tooth from falling on my face, I did things that under any other circumstances would be completely unthought of. So...why is it ok when I'm wasted? It's not. But I could always apologize. Apologies only mean so much when they happen over and over again. They lose their worth. They become empty and meaningless. They are just words. The past 2 weeks have made me realize that while it's "fun" to do all of that, it isn't getting me anywhere. It isn't fixing the missing part in my heart. It isn't making the bad go away or the good come back. It isn't making Dad or Andrew come back and it isn't helping me to deal with losing Morgan. These feelings were what I had been avoiding for so long. My fear and anxiety and insecurities and not wanting to feel any of them...make them go away. Push them back down. You can only fill a freezer with so much stuff before the door won't close and things start to fall out. Whether they fall out loudly when I'm wasted or quietly when I'm trying to make my mind numb....they still fall out. It is impossible to keep all of this in. Nobody except for myself ever expected me to do so. So unreasonable. Knowing all the while that it was eating me up inside. Just make it stop. A song comes on, I cry, I tell myself to stop. Don't cry. Keep it together. Don't lose it. Be strong. Fuck that. Why can't I be upset? It takes 10 times the strength to show people how you feel than it does to try and fake everyone else out....especially when they all know you're bullshitting yourself. 2 weeks of not being drunk. Of having to look at and feel this shit...and I do mean shit. These things happened to me - this isn't some dream or movie script...this is my life. This is the way things went. That doesn't mean I just get to check out. People need me. I need me. Life goes on. So why am I wasting it on being wasted? Instead of continuing to love and appreciate the things in life that are important; a conversation, time with folks I love, moments that I'll never get back....that, when sober, I'll wish I had to cherish all over again.