I Just Need to Shout It Out

Ten years ago today I got sober for the first time.  And then I was sober for over six years.  No alcohol for six years.  I was so proud of my sobriety.  I thought nobody and nothing could touch it.  And I was taking all the credit.  I didn't know how to be humble.  But let's back it up a bit.

I got angry when my Matt decided that he wanted to join the Army.  We had life plans, and that wasn't it.  I thought moving to Austin from Waco after Rehab was bold and daring.  I thought that was as far as I would have to reach outside of my comfort zone.

When we got married and moved to Tennessee in August 2010 and my husband went to Afghanistan a month later, I learned about being alone.  When we moved to Arizona in January 2013 with our son for a year, I learned how to reach out and make friends.  When we moved to Italy in January 2014, I was pregnant with my daughter and I learned how far I would be pushed outside of my comfort zone.  I also learned I could fall pretty hard.   

I'd already relapsed in Arizona.  It was quick and relatively painless, and it was over fast.  I caught myself and recognized the error of my ways almost immediately.  I got connected with great women who helped me back to sobriety, and all was well before we left to go overseas.

But when I started drinking in Italy, I was all in.  I had become a person I didn't know or recognize and lost touch with almost everyone from back home.  It's so easy to isolate when you're on the opposite side of the world from the people who know you best.  I'd try to get sober every couple months but I couldn't pull it off, and even when I was sober I was lost.  I wasn't interested in being present for my life. I was too complacent to get better and in the meantime I was losing time, and I knew it. I was missing my kids' childhoods, my own marriage, and everything was slipping by and away from me. 

There was so much guilt everyday.  I woke up with it, and most days started drinking as soon as I picked up my son from school because of it.  I'd drink to avoid social anxiety, or to be "more fun" and "normal" on Girls Night Out or whatever else.  There was always something.  And sometimes it really was fun until it was definitely not. Until it got to be scary and out of control. It never takes long.

We moved back to the states last summer and I knew I had to stop.  I finally really wanted to but I didn’t know how anymore; after so many failed attempts it seemed too far out of my reach.  But last month I made a decision to visit a church, and it really changed everything for our family.  It was the catalyst.  Everything clicked.  And that missing piece was back again.  I knew what the piece was; I had known all along that it was a relationship with God.  I had tried praying on my own to kick start a relationship but it felt so hollow, and lame.  After I heard this Pastor's first sermon, I knew it was something special.  It caught ahold of my heart and I cried in that service.  I knew things would be different.

And they are.  My husband and kids came with me to that church the next week and we’ve been going ever since.  The pastor started a series three weeks ago about finding out who we as individuals really are, and who God intends us to be.  How perfect is that? That was my goal for this year, to find my true self.  It’s so incredible.  God’s timing IS SO PERFECT. 

That’s why this year feels different.  It feels full circle.

The past three years feel like I was asleep but I feel fully awake and alive now.  The past ten years have held many storms, but I am thankful for the pain because I have learned that:

Isolation is death.

Sharing my truth is freedom.  No matter what anyone says about my truth.

Humility comes when we fall.  It’s priceless, and we all fall, so just take the lesson and stand up stronger.

There's nothing great about standing on a pedestal.

About truth-there is no rule saying honesty has to be brutal, so be kind.

I have been in a season where I have felt so alone and I have felt like failure.

But.

There is no greater love than the Father who reconciles the guilt and the pain and makes it His own, just because He loves us.  And just because we ask Him to. 

God's grace is setting me free.

This is and always has been the way I stay sober.

May I not lose sight, and may addicts around the world see that hope.