It’s been such a long time since I’ve written here that I’m starting to get virtual stage fright. I’m trying to breathe past the urge to apologize for my absence — I know that of all the qualities that make up a Little Tender, one of my favourites is the inclination to understand the ebbing tides.
This year has been a whirlwind, with many ups and downs, and a rock bottom that appeared like a mountaintop. Today, I’ve been sober for thirty days, and the world is getting brighter, and I know I’m very lucky — but also, my uterus is staging a coup, and I have very little desire to breathe today, let alone write this little note. Alas, we press onward!
I’ve known that I’d send out this note on this day for at least a few weeks, but of course, I’ve completely forgone planning what it is that I want to say. Maybe it’s better this way. I wanted to speak from the ♡, not the mind, not the mask.
Thirty one days ago, I was truly broken down, at the end of my wits and desperate for some sort of escape. The funny thing about rock bottom is that it just feels like a Monday. It’s not that one particular day is so terrible, it’s that, on one particular day, you realize that you’ve been feeling so terrible for so long, and on that day you feel the weight of all the days, all the shakes, all the sobs.
I’m sorry! I don’t want this to be sad. There’s that apology that I was trying to avoid ;)
The good thing about bottoming out is that there’s no place else to go other than up. And as far as bottoms go, I was lucky that this one was internal — I still had housing, I still had people who love me, I still had food to eat and laundry to do. All I was missing was the ability to see the beauty in any of those things. My rock bottom was like a locked room within myself, a cage from which I could look out, but through which no light could get in. And I was exhausted, desperately so.
So I took steps! And they’re working, albeit not as quickly as I would’ve liked. But I’ve been told that incremental progress is a more potent salve than quick sniff/pop/chug fixes — and that point is starting to be proven.
So, announcement time!
Since getting sober, I’ve kept a pretty detailed diary of the daily ups and downs, and after a lot of internal debate and external encouragement, I’ve decided to make that diary public. My sun in the 12th house is screaming about it, but that’s alright. I’m wondering if I can be so vulnerable that I become invincible. I’d like to think so. I’d like to practice being honest and frightened and full(y myself) without edit. I’d like to think that this honesty can help someone, even if only myself.
So today, parallel to this little tender, I'm launching a secondary Substack — “A Reanimated Life” which will detail my experience getting clean and trying to rebuild a sense of self independent of psychotropic substances and generally maladapted coping mechanisms. No pressure though ;)
The first post just went live, which is the darkest (and shortest) entry for the next couple of weeks - it’s my diary from my first day clean. I decided to wait until I had thirty days before I started posting these, mainly to give myself some time to get my brain back in relative working order before I bared my soul to the World Wide Web. I’ll be updating that blog every day, and each entry will always be thirty days behind where I’m currently at — that also gives me time to process any events/emotions before I share them with the world :) If you’re interested in following along with my sobriety journey, if you’re interested in getting sober yourself, or if you’ve simply got a kink for psychological voyeurism, feel free to check out that space.
As far as this space goes, I’ll be here more regularly now with posts that don’t fit into the diary format. This isn’t going to become a full blown sobriety blog, but as that’s the mountain I’m tackling at the moment, you should definitely expect to see some themes and reflections in relation to that. Aside from that, there will be much of what you’ve read before - thoughts on love, sex work, spirituality, psychology, and whatever else is floating through my little, tender brain at the moment.
I know that it’s been a long time, but I really want to thank you for being here, still. It means a lot to me. I’m so grateful to anyone who thinks I’ve got a thing at all worth saying, I’m grateful for the people who told me I needed help, I’m grateful for those who were the help I needed. At thirty days clean, with cramps like angry knives and blood leaking by the bucketload, I still feel better than I have all year.
I’m excited to see where this all goes. I’m grateful that you’re here with me to hold my hand.
So, so much love to you.
xx,
j
So happy for you on your sobriety and so happy to have you back here 😊😊
Big hugs to you on your sobriety and healing babe 🧡🧡🧡