Before I went to bed I knew the next day would be spent cleaning. In the midst of everything else my roommate and I found out Monday that we would have to move. It wouldn’t have been such bad news of we didn’t a) absolutely love our place and b) have no time to move. However, with our lease ending at the end of April we had to make something happen. True to form by the end of the week we had secured a new place. Smaller and just a bit cheaper but secured. And that’s all we needed. So to make things easier on myself once packing time came I decided to go through all my things and do all the sorting one usually only does in the midst of moving. I tossed old things, made a clothes donation pile, scrubbed my bathroom, vacuumed, once I got started I just couldn’t help myself.
When I got in the car headed to go get dinner (and a car wash–my car was filthy from days spent at the beach) Taylor Swift’s “Clean” came on.
Rain came pouring down
when I was drowning, that’s when I could finally breathe.
I don’t know why but these lines felt exactly right for my moment. The more I sit with it the more I find this horrific event to be one that changes me for the better. Drowning in all the overwhelming emotion of the aftermath you, I, become incredibly clear on what it really takes to survive and thrive. And it wasn’t the things I was dedicating much of my energy to.
Ten months sober, I must admit…just because you’re clean don’t mean you don’t miss it.
That at was my backslide. Slipping into old ways and habits and mind sets the day before…but I was reminded of how ill-fitting that old skin was now. I am different. I cannot do the same old things in the same old ways anymore. And thank God.
So while my feeling might only last a day, I’ll take my one day. My clean day. 24 hours sober from a life spent undervaluing myself and overvaluing the appraisal of others.