Updated: 6 days ago
I like to do reviews after each "set" in my life.
In high school my life was divided into three school terms; in varsity, two semesters. I’d do reviews, sometimes with a friend over coffee, and set goals for the next set. These last two years have felt like a set of their own.
In 2015 I made the decision to change my relationship with alcohol because it was making me regress with my personal development. I had been using alcohol to avoid myself; as a crutch. I’d lost who I was and I hated that. I hated the idea of admitting this even more. I drank myself into deep cynicism and crippling depressive phases. At times, I felt as though I liked feeling that way because then I could use it as a reason for being a failure.
After turning 22 I made a pledge to reclaim myself. I tore off a piece of foolscap, dated it the 23rd of August 2015 and swore to never touch alcohol until I’d sorted my life out first. Over this current set, that is what I did.
In the beginning, the task was taken with vigour and determination; setbacks were a learning opportunity and there was this unwavering belief in my ability to get my groove back. In fact, I was getting my groove back. But, this feeling of accomplishment placed me firmly atop of my high horse; cemented my prima donna status.
November 2017 marks the end of this set and a detailed, blow-by-blow account of the year will be too long-winded; rather let me say it has been a moderate success. Success because I can say with confidence that, I do not drink and I'm not lying. I am better with feeling things – that vulnerability – and asking for help. I actively deal with myself. "Moderate" because the last 5 months have been the most difficult of my life.
Lately, I wake up disappointed to be awake – look up to the sky and dramatically mouth the words “why am I still here?”. Listen. Listen! A girl has been humbled over these last 5 months.
Fam, there is no horse to even sit on at this stage. Apparently, when you remove the thing you were using to avoid your issues, they resurface. Turns out I got ahead of myself. Yes, I’d built a resistance to peer pressure & for the first time ever, I liked my physical body. But I’d forgotten that this was the beginning, the entry-level stuff. The real test was this year, and unfortunately, I have been a bee drowning in honey. I understand (now, at least).
By Pink Plume