Looking for Peace


I’m fucking exhausted. Mostly of myself. I cannot get my mind to shut off and I’m just so over it.

So I’m sitting here in my dad’s chair (which is now my chair) with my chai tea listening to my kids play a video game with my estranged husband (oh there’s a story I still need to tell about that one!) and trying to figure out how I dump out everything in my brain so it will just be quiet.

I was thinking today about how my head is always hyper focused on shit and I just can’t shut it off.  Sometimes it’s work…sometimes it’s marriage….sometimes it’s alcohol….sometimes it’s recovery…but it’s always something and right now I just want to tell my brain to shut the fuck up.

It’s a difficult part of recovery for me – having to feel and face everything with a clear head. Before if there was something I wanted to avoid (and there was plenty) I could just drink it away.

The part I miss most and has been on my mind a lot is that first hour or so. When the effects just start to hit, my muscles relax, the tension leaves my body, I feel a little lightheaded but giggly.  I smile easily then and my mind clears. That overall fuzziness that blurred reality in just the slightest way and made me feel like everything was okay.  I miss that feeling…

Ahhhh…if only the tape stopped playing there. But it doesn’t.  That hour of rose-colored warm and fuzzies doesn’t last very long and turns into a black out complete with boat loads of shame and guilt without much memory of why other than being told by others how I embarrassed myself yet again and ruined even more relationships.  I sure as fuck don’t miss those feelings…

I need some peace.  I need some quiet time in my own head. I’ve attempted meditation and I think it could be beneficial if I gave it more time and practice but that’s damn near impossible with two little kids. There’s always noise – if not in my head then outside of it.

I write to try to quiet the chaos but even that has it’s limitations. New to this public blog thing, I don’t know what’s too much to share, what’s not enough. Early in m recovery at 118 days I question if I can handle the judgment that would come with just word vomiting my entire story in a single shot…because it’s ugly.

So here I am with a mind that never shuts off, a life that never slows down and a soul that is begging for a break.  I just need a break.

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