Expectations

Expectations are the death of any relationship, including sobriety. Which is kind of like a relationship with yourself? Right?

Today was the first day in what feels like about a year that I didn't dread cleaning. If you were anything like how I was when I was drinking, you'd have used alcohol as the "carrot in front of the horse" for any mundane task. It's taken a long time for me not to experience a sense of loss while cleaning. The reward of doing the right thing or enjoying a clean house just hasn't been enough for me yet. Or if it has it's fleeting when I see the once clean house disheveled by the next day.

|Sidenote, as I was writing this, my dog saw a piliated woodpecker in the back yard, leapt from my bed, straight into the sliding door screen as if it wasn't there at all. Don't worry he's fine but I can't stop laughing.|

Okay, back at it.

What did you think sobriety was going to look like when you first got sober? Were you like me fantasizing about full commencement-style speeches for your one-year anniversary? Imagining yourself with so much money, you're not sure what to do with it? Or possibly being in the best shape of your life? Maybe finally feeling like the hero of your family.

I've had an unbelievable amount of support during my first year of sobriety. I'm very blessed, I can't thank my family and friends enough... I also came out to the public about being sober early in my journey and shared my journey with, well, the world basically. Not only did I have heightened expectations for myself because of my obsessive thought patterns consisting of grandiose ideas and etched with the need for perfection, but there was the world, watching me. I know why people keep sobriety sacred and private, the pressure to succeed can be crippling.

Progress is not always linear, there can be regression, bumps in the road, messy mistakes, we're only human. We can shoot for the moon but if we're not ready we HAVE to listen to our bodies and well, the world isn't always so forgiving on that. As a society, we love success stories and we love a happily ever after.

Happily ever after in recovery. *Crickets*

While I feel I have made leaps and bounds in my personal life I still have this nagging feeling of high expectations for myself. Where I thought I would be at my age and how can I possibly get there at lightning speed. The more I think about these things, the more my knees begin to buckle under the pressure. I know expectations are a killer, I know better than to fall into that trap, but often, I still do. There's a reason they tell you not to take on too much during your first year of sobriety. Because beating an addiction is hard fucking work and you don't want a lot of added pressure while you're busy picking up the pieces.

I'm telling you this not to whine and complain but because I don't think we talk about this enough, at least not here in the United States. We're always so busy talking about our accomplishments, leaving these conversations for our own internal thoughts or our therapists.

Recovery is a whole different animal. It's a slow healing process that cannot be measured through an online social media feed. You have to feel authentic which might not make sense to other people and isn't always wrapped in a perfect little bow.

I'm going to repeat that, it might not make sense to other people... That's why a recovery community is extremely crucial. |Shameless plug, I use CafeRE.|

I want to feel like I have it all together but this comes in waves. Those bad days don't just vanish because I made it one time around the sun without my emotional crutch alcohol. My continued sobriety is an enormous accomplishment but it doesn't always directly feed my soul like I wish it would, I need bigger. I want more. These dreams that feel too big, too much, I'm taking slow steps towards them. My progress might not feel like progress every day, it may not look like progress to anyone else, but every day I don't drink is progress.

For now, cleaning my house, blasting music, and not feeling a sense of loss, is progress enough.

Don't forget to take time to evaluate these small, overlooked milestones. We are doing something incredibly difficult. Every moment counts.

Best, Jen