131 days ago I quit drinking.
There is a story, there is always a story. I have a ton of stories about my time in Santa Barbara.
I have stories about how being sober and properly medicated is so Earth Shatteringly Good and sometimes even Great. And sometimes it’s Boring As Piss.
I don’t know which of these stories to tell, or even if these stories are interesting to anyone besides me.
Writing is a lot easier when you basically don’t give a shit about anything, which is where I was for awhile, deep in the canyons of Who Gives A Fuckastan. It’s a dark place where you just sort of let whatever crosses your mind out and you just bumble around straight up not giving a fuck.
In my own way I still don’t give a fuck. I don’t care that people know I went into treatment and I don’t care that people know I was having mental issues before the drinking problem became a Drinking Problem. That’s all fine and good to have out there in the world because anything else is disingenuous. Other people’s opinions don’t matter to me, still, because their opinion speaks more about them usually, than it does about me.
What I do care about though is how I perceive myself. Am I buying my own bullshit these days? Am I twisting myself in knots to be who I think people want me to be? Is any of this important? Does my blog still serve a purpose to me? Do I even want to continue with it? Do I want to remodel it? Is this still a part of my life?
I don’t know, to be honest. I’ve been writing some on a smaller scale. I still like to write and entertain people. I am arguably a less messy, more thoughtful and less easily led version of myself than I was 131 days ago. I don’t feel as though I have changed so dramatically that I have become more private, although that is part of it. I do feel less pressure to be so out there and so. fucking. interesting. for other people anymore. I’ve come to terms, happily that yes, I used to entertain people for a living and now that I don’t. I have a “normal,” and “boring,” job that I’m really good at, much better at than I was before. My bills get paid, there is love in my house, and I’m letting go of things, relationships and activities that no longer bring me joy or are not of service to my sanity. I am choosing to be a more simple human being.
Let’s see how that goes for me.
Boring and normal can be OK. Especially when the bills are paid.