Everything Happens For A Reason - Tumblr Posts

Telling someone “everything happens for a reason” as that person is dealing with a life shattering situation. Is like telling them that it was deserved. That they deserved to feel the pain and agony they are experiencing.

🦉Positivity owl reporting for duty! This was sent by a friend who wants you to smile as much as your posts make them smile. Please list five things that make you unique, four things you are super passionate about and why, OR three of your favorite memories. Feel free to send the owl to those who you feel deserve to smile🦉

Whoooooo wants to know? Lol

5 things that make me Me

1. My writing style is unique to me as is everyone's.

2. I live in space (oh wait everyone does...)

3. I am Happily married to my best friend forever

4. I love the internet because it inspires me, despite all the ick, the goodness and beauty I see brings me hope and joy and I hope to be able to add to that positivity through the content I create

5. I believe in God, the Bible, and the Book of Mormon, and I believe that love will always win the wars hate never could

32 -

I did something. I don’t want to admit it but I need to get this off my chest. I promised to always be honest here, if nowhere else. I got ahold of some pain pills. And now I feel anxious and guilty. I mean duh? What else did I expect?

But at the same time, I have a secret. It feels good in the way that knowing something that only you know feels good - knowledge is a private power. I feel sneaky and a little clever. There’s a rush to doing something and knowing you likely won’t get caught.

I’m so committed to my recovery. To actually sit with the hard stuff, not just numb it out. To living with integrity. To pursuing my dreams.

Or so I thought. Getting ahold of them was instinctual. I didn’t really think twice about it. Okay…not true, I debated on it for a while. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t convince myself not to. It was so easy. There was no way I could be found out. And I’d have a good time for a few hours.

Or rather, I didn’t want to think twice. I wanted them, plain and simple. I wanted to have them because I knew I could.

If I were to take them - I don’t have any intention of getting more. I wouldn’t even know where to go or who to ask. I just wanted them for a fun little afternoon. Nothing more. I’m not trying to escape my feelings or using them as a crutch. I have the capacity and tools these days to work through my problems, sober. They just feel good.

I guess I could describe it similar to non-alcoholics who want to enjoy a glass of wine while they have a quiet night in.

But I feel guilty because it’s not for the right reasons - who uses pain pills to have a “fun little afternoon”? (10 points if you guessed - an addict). And I didn’t get ahold of them in a trustworthy way. If I take them, does it count as a relapse? I don’t want to start over. If I take them, am I unwittingly taking a step down that path again? Can I really say it’s not a choice when here I am, self aware, and still making the choice anyway. They say you will always be in recovery, you can’t cure addiction.

But no one knows, except me.

It’s a decision based upon deceit and selfish intentions. Can I live with that?

I was thinking about them before I went on this trip. I knew they’d be around. If I really was committed to my recovery, then I would have taken precautions, not made plans. Right?

My recovery is still my recovery. I struggle with the idea that abstinence of all for the rest of my life, is the only option (except it is definitely for alcohol). For me - if I can understand the root of why I used to begin with, then I can identify when those feelings come up and sit with them instead of escaping. People use the high to fill a void in something. If I have a foundation of healthy coping mechanisms for negative feelings, then who’s to say I can’t have a fun little afternoon and that’s all it will be?

Or I’m just full of shit and I sound like every other addict out there trying to justify and rationalize why this will be okay. It’s a compulsion of the mind. The fact that I’m even analyzing this….I really don’t know.

Walt Whitman

79 -

I can feel myself shifting internally while the world is simultaneously trying to stop it.

—

I can feel myself:

• growing less attached to the opinions of others

• growing in confidence (maybe some borderline arrogance but it’s new and I’m gleeful)

• more & more able to talk myself out of ruminating

• “testing” my intrusive thoughts for evidence - turns out they’re wrong a lot!

• feeling optimistic about the future - setting goals, making plans

• less *needing* to escape; instead, making a conscious choice to if so

• follow up ^ wanting to escape less often

• more comfortable letting things/people/situations go (not needing to control)

• embracing the freedom in realizing that I don’t matter to anyone else as much as I do to myself

• acknowledging the other side of the coin - the painful loneliness of realizing I don’t matter to anyone else as much as I do to myself

• defining my reality on my own terms

• feeling happy & confident, yet feeling like I’m doing something wrong

• tested by old thought patterns and behaviors

• trying to make a home for the scared little girl/old me while shifting into a newer mature new me

• heightened awareness of others’ need to be accepted, probably because I find myself growing less so - like a living juxtaposition

• acknowledging my weaknesses while, starting to accept my whole self in her entirety

• questioning myself often, worrying if I am turning into a selfish asshole

• feeling a loss of identity - Who am I? What do I like? What do I want? ….How do I decide?

• feeling like there isn’t enough time anymore

• being a human

••• holding all of these feelings separately, together •••

not. quitting.

maybe, stumbling

but then. getting. up. again.

—

Oh, I was tested today on my no drinking and I prevailed. YAY me. It’s the little wins. Few and far between but they add up over time - experience > confidence > resilience

Addiction is all simple math really.

Drinks, dollars, grams, ounces, pills, dosage, days, hours - constantly counting; constantly surviving, dependent on a roulette of endless numbers.

And recovery? Getting sober is saying “fuck your math, I’m bored, let’s do some science”