A Goose, a Gander, & a Lie.
Went for a run this am, and felt myself actually enjoying it. I felt like….
And when I finished, I felt like….
I was sweaty and winded (in a good way), and felt like I could do anything… Maybe after I got a glass of water and stretched. … And showered, etc. … Then I could do anything.
And sitting here, catching up on blogs and everything, it made me laugh, because I was feeling all proud of said run and feeling like ‘Oh, yeah. I’m awesome,’ when it occurred to me… I actually look like this when I run….
I am a goose. The goose is my spirit animal. Even my temperament is a bit ‘goosey.’ Maybe it’s my gangliness (spellcheck does not believe this is a word (spellcheck is wrong)), combined with my height and wobbly neck and non-athletic-coordination? But, yes. I can take it. I can face reality. I am at one with my goose-self. I commune with the goose.
It’s nice to admit what I really am. That I am an alcoholic. That I have bi-polar. That I am goosey. And a little loosey. It is so refreshing to be who I am here, and not to feel I should or have to hide pieces of myself away. … It’s making me feel more confident in my day-to-day life as well. I am holding my head higher, and my smile stretches bigger. I feel more Me. That’s a good feeling.
I have told a couple of you here and there on your own blogs, but I am reclaiming my Life. Literally. I’m taking it back from the past decade of poor decisions and struggles with the wine bottle, and in so doing, I have chopped off five years of my age. It started in March (my actual b-day), when I for whatever reason, I just couldn’t face my real number. Granted, it was probably one of my heaviest drinking periods, which probably made me feel the worse for wear, tired, hungover, sad, overworked, exhausted, stressed out, and full of anxiety. … Fun times. … (Never thought I would be the woman to lie about my age, as I want to be one of the Purple Hats and embrace every year, but here I am. … Lying!) So, I told my students I was five years younger than I actually was, and maybe they were being nice (they were definitely being nice), but they believed me. So, I’ve kept it up. And now? I have started to believe it myself, which? Is awesome. I think of myself as my new chosen age – 31 – than my actual-really-real-age. I feel like I get a bit of a redo. And I like that, because I want to do these years over with more of myself Here. I really have missed Me. A shit-tonne (one of my favorite phrases).
Connected SideNote: The other day, I caught myself thinking how much older the hubs is than me. Ha! I forgot for a moment we are actually a little closer in age (39:36) than my new, improved, preferred Math (39:31). Have I mentioned? Ridiculous = Me.
Along with sobriety, I have been attempting to find medication to help my bi-polarismness, which has tipped to depression pretty heavily in the past three or four years. I am taking a mood stabilizer and slowly building it up into my system. I feel so strong and proactive about seeing my therapist, a psychiatrist, blogging, running, napping (I have never been a napper until I started being sober – now I love it!), listening to podcasts, eating (mostly) good food. …. I am actually taking care of myself (and not faking it to the world so that it just looks like I am). I’m a big kid! And … more surprising, I’m having fun being one! All this hiding away from the world and myself and my life and the idea of ‘being an adult,’ and who knew it would be so enjoyable? I have Hope, and am feeling optimistic, and determination to continue on this path.
So, yes. Reclaiming is a great word for how I am feeling these past few weeks about life. I am so lucky it’s summer, and that I have the extra time to invest in sobriety, and my mental health, and my physical health, and in my family, and in me. This cushion is so helpful in putting time and energy around this new mission. I feel like I am building the world’s biggest pillow fort (Oh, wait. I accidentally stole that idea from an episode of Community. Whoops. I’m a plagiarizing asshole, but am going to continue with the metaphor nonetheless.) around myself. All of the walls are soft and cushy, and of course cute in mismatched pillowcases, and a few cozy blankets thrown here and there for good measure. I have my cave entrance that I can crawl into and barricade if I need to. And overall, I am just happy and snuggly and content in here. In me. …. For the first time in a long(-ass) time.
Day 24, never underestimate the power of the Goose.*