Last night, I walked to a poetry event on my own, stood on stage and performed some of my work for the first time. Prior to leaving the house, there was a moment where I started to try and talk myself out of going, my little inner prick telling me that my work is shit and nobody wants to hear it. And I shut the little fucker down.
Because whether I judge my work to be shit or not is absolutely not the point here. The point was to a) attend an event alone, b) get over my harrowing stage fright and c) practice performing some of my work before I stand on a stage at the Arts Centre and open a show in a few weeks.
I would not have been able to do any of this last year. My anxiety was at its peak and drinking to overcome it fed back in to the self-sabotaging cycle. My self-esteem, never exactly described as flying high, was at an all time low. I had recently started a new job and the other job that I loved was going down hill. Hubs was ill and lost his job, I was travelling for work, working two jobs with full time hours for the first time in over a year and life became overwhelming.
I didn’t practice self care then. I was still under the impression that life had to be a series of constant achievements. I now know that it doesn’t, life only has to be lived.
Recently, I have been focused on my thought processes and my weight being signposts for my sober success and I have missed other developments that are directly linked.
Like my new found confidence. Or the self-esteem I have developed for the first time in my life. Or the level of contentment I feel at all times (apart from when I’m teaching Construction GCSE English and revert to being filled with impatience, frustration and irritability). Or how comfortable I am to be alone at home all weekend working on projects, lesson planning, writing. Or how much I value the joyful space my husband and I are creating in our home. Or how little I cry. Or how infrequently I lose my temper. Or how often I see beauty in the world.
I’ve had a couple of conversations recently about how everything just suddenly seems to have clicked into place. I’ve been chasing the feeling of being an adult for my entire adult life and sometimes I feel as though I am somewhere close to being an actual, partial functioning adult. I thought it was just something that happened to you with age but it isn’t, it’s another thing we have to really work at.
My life has changed immeasurably since I stopped drinking. For the first time in my life, I know who I am. I know what I want. And I know how to get it. I am financially secure. I am becoming more qualified. I love my job. I fucking adore my husband. I have new friendships that fill me with joy. More established friendships that almost seem to have recovered from the minefield of my sobriety. I’ve got a fucking dog. A dog! How adult is that?!
Self-development, progression, growth takes time to come to fruition. They don’t suddenly appear over night with a gold star and an adulting certificate. It takes hard work, effort, perseverance to change who you are, to be who you have always wanted to be. It takes sacrifice, tenacity and sometimes pain to question everything about yourself, to figure out what you want and who you are. It is not easy and it is likely that you will lose some of the people around you. But here’s the kicker…
It’s a small price to pay to be happy in yourself.
Sober Kiki 