The Whole Picture

Oh, friends, first I want to say, I love seeing all the different countries and states (United States) viewing my blog and checking out my posts. Sometimes I have to race to Google to figure out where in the world someone is from by the abbreviation. It's seriously the coolest thing. I get excited when a new place pops up on my notifications, it's the ultimate compliment. So Hello, Bon Jour, Hola, Halló, Hi, Hoi, Anyoung!

Maybe the reason you're here is that you accidentally came across my blog, googled: Sobriety Inspiration or you follow my Instagram @jenmovesforward, but either way you got here, I'm almost certain it's because you're interested in, curious about, or maybe years into sobriety. I hope my writing gives you hope and comfort in knowing you're not alone and that this is common around the world.

Anyway, not my typical intro but maybe what I'm about to tell you makes me nervous and I'm trying to lead into it. I want to package this entry carefully, handle it like a bomb, and pray that it gives a good message. (I say pray but not the formalized, ritualistic prayers of the church)

This year has been... Insane. I know, I know, to the whole world this year has been insane right? We've all dealt with uncertainty, global anxiety, and the feeling of being flipped upsidedown. The baseline is chaotic, I think we can all agree on that. Some of us have dealt with the worst of it, my family and I have been fortunate through this. For that, I'm forever thankful.

I don't want to complain about my life but rather I want to share a message with you.

March 10th I will be 11 months sober. This is the longest I've abstained and I still never want to or plan to drink again, I just don't think it's going to work out for me. I mean, at this point no matter which way I spin it, it comes out the same.

I have finally surrendered to sobriety. For so many years I had surrendered myself to alcohol.

I'm not entirely sure how to explain what it feels to surrender... Have you ever watched a wave push sand across the seafloor? The wave comes, the sand ebbs forwards and backward as the wave rolls past. I suppose it feels a little like that. Waves passing over and you are there, letting life happen. Sounds kind of depressing right? Maybe it felt that way at first, there is a grieving process in this after all, but after a while the waves become a rhythm and comfort.

I remember when it shifted for me and there was no going back. I was standing in the kitchen looking in the face of my 9-year-old who had just confronted my drinking problem. I was so tired of fighting this, putting up appearances, pretending like there was nothing wrong. If in that moment I had chosen to lie to my daughter, sweep her feelings under the rug, how far would I take this?

I had to surrender.

This time was different, I don't want to go back, no ounce of me wants even a piece of that life. The life where I was looking forward and looking backward at the same time keeping me in an infinite circle of chasing emotions that weren't in the present moment.

This time I know it's going to be work. I stand there at the base of this mountain I know has no peak. Every day I gear up with good intentions fully understanding the worth in my progress and my commitment all the while knowing I will never reach the top and anything can happen, anything. And I'm at peace with that.

It's taken me years to get here. Every person reading this will take a different path to get to that level of understanding.

I think the universe heard me say "Okay, I'm ready." and then it shouted back "Challenge accepted! Let's get you up to speed babe because we've got plans!"

I feel so concrete in my sobriety. I also feel like I'm cutting through the thickest parts of the Amazon jungle with a dull machete gasping for breath and dying of thirst but for me, there's just no turning back. I don't want to drink. The struggle doesn't come from that it comes from facing everything I put on hold for the past 10 years. I know someone out there has to feel the same, which is why I wanted to write about this.

You guys, I have been sued three times within a year. Tres. I'm not even embarrassed at this point, I'm just impressed. I went through a 6-month long custody battle and lost... I changed jobs and quit three days into the new job knowing I couldn't handle it and on many levels, felt defeated. Everything I ate was making me sick, I went to the doctor several times without answers until I had an emergency appendectomy, I had chronic appendicitis. Possibly the hardest out of all this, my oldest is going through a tumultuous period in his life and I feel helpless.

I've cried more this year than I think I ever have.

I've also put in more work, communicated more, problem solved more, dug deeper, loved harder, and uplifted those around me far more than before. I started my blog and my Instagram inspiring people from all over the world to stay sober. My marriage is the best it's ever been. My relationship with my children feels meaningful and deep. I was given a scholarship to college and I start in the fall. I've been given opportunities to speak to youth. I've started writing, and writing, and writing. I found a new job and the owners and staff are just so awesome. My physical fitness and nutrition are on track and I feel fantastic. I started doing competitive archery with other women and it's just the coolest. (Had to share that, I feel like a badass!)

The positive side effects of sobriety are still limited to just half of the picture. Every hard experience has a far greater reward than the easy, magical experience we all expect to have once we get sober.

You cannot only be in this for the peaks, you have to also be in this for the valleys. You have to feel and experience everything, all of it.

That completes the whole picture and that's where the magic is.

Best, Jen