QUICK REMINDER THAT NOVEMBER CHECK-INS ARE DUE BY MONDAY:

250-300 WORDS ON HOW YOUR RECOVERY IS HOLDING UP. ARE YOU TIRED? CONFUSED? DEALING WITH DIVORCE OR DEATH OR DISAPPOINTMENT? LET US KNOW: [email protected]

Thanks to A.J. for the space. My blog is here, free to sign up.

I’m hard on myself, and it’s taken a lot of years post-sobriety to learn to give myself a little grace. But like everything in mental health, there’s a balance: How rigorous is my honesty? Can I experience the loneliness without giving into it? Can I avoid filling myself with shame while acknowledging the worst things I’ve done?

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks with my recovery practices. We had a work retreat I was integral to planning, which dysregulated me. After returning home, I wondered if I would ever leave the house again. I wasn’t sadder or lonelier than usual, but I felt smooth-brained, like I couldn’t form an idea. I kept running through my beloved BHALT: Am I bored? Hungry? Angry, lonely tired? Things are fine, so why do I have so little resilience?

Just before work took over, I came up with a new writing project. I’ve read a handful of recovery memoirs, which tend to follow the same story arc: drunkalogue, party time, the highs, lost friendships, a major lost relationship, a rock bottom, a first experience with sobriety and a final third where everything is OK and the writer remains famous. My thought: Since I became an alcoholic around age 29, what if I focused on the non-alcoholic parts? What if I left my 16 years of daily drinking completely out of the memoir?