Day Seventeen

Moody and pensive tonight, albeit still sober. It's been another one of those evenings when I'm not all that delighted with not drinking. There still isn't enough in its place (of course) and there won't be for a long time. I slip rather easily into feeling sorry for myself about that.

So I'm peering within for a sense of gratitude. Yeah, it's there. I'm grateful to be living more honestly and more authentically. I'm grateful for everyone's support and for AA and E. I'm grateful that I'm pretty sure I'll be okay and that my spiritual life is changing into something new.

It's come to my attention today that writing here isn't enough. I need to be doing my own writing, for no one else's eyes. I haven't been--I think because I've been afraid of the emotions that'll emerge once I do. This blog is as honest as I can manage for the outside world, but in a sense it remains a performance piece because I know you'll be reading it. While I wouldn't say I censor myself accordingly on purpose, how could I possibly not do so on a subconscious level? The complex project of becoming more anchored within myself requires that I risk a stronger connection with my inner self, not only an external group of readers.

I'll keep writing here, of course, because this blog has its own important purposes.

Aha, perhaps this is an excuse to buy a new journal? I really can't imagine picking up the old one, which I think I last wrote in during March, and continuing as though I'm the same person. Even though I am. But I'm not, you know? In AA they refer to one's sobriety date as a birthday because it is indeed the beginning of a new life. So the new me could perhaps need a new journal. (Yay, one of my favorite kinds of shopping...)

On that note I guess I'll sign off and, hmm, maybe write a bit somewhere else. [Insert pithy closing. Thanks.]