Telling the Truth

Who am I to advise you not to qualify your life?

I closed my last post with that thought.

The only thing I can say on my behalf is that I am someone who knows that trying has availed me nothing. For me, I must either do something wholeheartedly or forget about it. I have proven this.

After a year of hard-fought sobriety, on 21 June 2014, I took two Valiums that were not prescribed to me. Two days later, just for good measure, I swallowed one more. Not even enough to have a good time! But enough to cause me to reset my sobriety date to 25 June 2014.

I did this because honesty is all I have left. I did this because I took the pills with the same mindset I used to have while drinking — I wanted the effect those pills would produce because I wanted to feel something other than the depression and anxiety that was clouding my life.

When I took those pills a few days ago, I did not realize that there is a difference between emotions and feelings.

My turbulent emotions (or moods, if you prefer) flit here and there, constantly changing. They are fickle, inconstant, and deceptive. But I can actually choose how I want to feel.

How I feel now, moment to moment, is up to me, based upon what I focus on and to what I give attention. I can choose to fuel peace and serenity, or I can choose to fuel the opposite — discord, misery, despair. I can feed the white dog, or the black hound.

I learned this in practical application as young as age 10. Desperately unhappy but having to face another day at school, surrounded by cliques of mocking classmates with whom I had never (and did not try to) fit in. So I decided to try smiling. Just that — smile. Pretend that I was happy. It was a matter of survival. And to my surprise, I began to feel better. I began to actually feel inside like my smiling face looked on the outside.

So acting “as if” can produce the actual feeling I am emulating, despite whatever emotion is running rampant. Interesting…

I smiled, just now. And so I move forward, building my second first year of sobriety.

And for me, I know I will build not by trying, but by doing.

 

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A Book of Days (of sorts)

Well, hello there!

Life has kept rolling since I last wrote. Sunrises, changing seasons, Crepe Myrtle trees bursting into bloom.

Biggest News Flash: I have one year sober!

Actually today, I have one year, one month, and two days sober. And how has life changed because of that? I have not had to come to, face down on the floor, in 397 days. The cats are happier. Work has been steady.

In fact, since leaving dear Elephant Journal at the beginning of May, I have been thoroughly busy writing and working with friends to strengthen their business.

Other perks of sobriety:

• Paying off debts and old fees
• Ability to take care of day-to-day business
• Daily bathing

Ah, yes. Sobriety is good. Plenty of pros about it.

There are, however, those pesky cons that come calling, as well. Namely, I am now more aware of myself. And wherever I go, there I am, to my surprise.      And while it may, in turn, surprise you to hear this, I am not always the best company. Indeed.

The mind reels.

But while I have accomplished much in the past year, there still are plenty of items left on my “to do” list:

• Write to my friends in Bristol, England
• Remove all traces of splattered red nail lacquer from my bathroom walls and floor
• Revise and polish my current novel manuscript
• Shop said manuscript around the literary universe
• Go on tour to support above-mentioned novel (after it has been published)
• Start belly dancing again
• Initiate a daily routine of good oral hygiene for the cats

 

Ah yes. No rest, it seems, for the wicked. Or the sober. Or the wickedly sober. But one minute at a time, I move forward in this brave new world of sobriety, bounded only by my imagination and willingness to live in the now.

And in this early morning moment, being quiet and richly present seems to be the next right thing to do. And so I am doing it.

Forget regrets. Leave “should” behind. Determine not to try, but either to do or not to do. Stop qualifying life.

Wishing you well, too. Live deliberately.

Until next time, then.

 

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Newest elephant journal piece: The Center is in Me.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/03/the-center-is-in-me-pamela-mooman/

Excerpt from “The Center is in Me.” ~ Pamela Mooman, on elephant journal.

Emotional sobriety comes later, after physical withdrawal from alcohol.

Clear sight follows a clear head. Psychosocial temperance comes long after bodily sobriety is achieved, and advancing it and maintaining it require lifelong effort.

At nine months sober, I just resumed a daily Yoga practice, currently done at home. I perform Sun Salutations in the morning, or at the very least…