Miss Addiction

Sometimes I miss addiction. Which is a weird thing to say, but it’s how I feel at times. Even though it was chaotic, messy and painful, it was predictable. I knew I would drink and I would drink too much. I knew I would wake up and feel physically and mentally drained. Even when I tried to tell myself “this time will be different,” deep down I knew it would be the same. 

These days, my life feels inconsistent. One week is rarely the same as the next. Each day looks a little different, and there’s a lot more room for creativity. I’m grateful for this and it’s what I wanted when I was drinking my life away. It was what I craved but didn’t think I could ever have. It didn’t seem attainable to live a life led by creative pursuits, focused on health and wellness. 

When I drank, I wrote. A lot. Incessantly. I figured if F. Scott Fitzgerald could write drunk, so could I. When I read things I wrote during that period of my life it’s dripping with pain. You can feel it when you read it. It’s like walking through a spooky haunted house knowing there’s a monster around each corner, a terror waiting for you to turn around. My mind was a haunted house filled with all manner of horrors. Most of them created by me, and my trusty friend tequila. When I got sober in 2020 I was worried I wouldn’t be able to write the same. I was right. I write differently now. I write with a bit of resistance, still withholding some of the vulnerability I used to dump on the page without a second thought. For better or worse, it sounds different. More measured and analytical now, but that’s how my mind works. Through analysis and comparison. Observation and data collection. Whether I’m observing myself or someone else, it feels like my mind is always in the mode of data collection. When I begin to write is when the analysis begins. Analyzing the progress of a client I’ve been training or the impact of a cue during a yoga class. 

This can be helpful. It allows me to improve and see results quickly. But fuck, it’s exhausting. It reminds me of why I drank all the time. To shut my mind down. To live and feel instead of constantly observe and track. To reflect instead of analyze. To feel more of being human. I wanted to feel the things I observed within myself and remove the barrier I had somehow constructed between my thoughts and feelings. I wanted to create a state of existence where I could feel and act on feelings without thinking. When I look at it now, it just seems like I wanted an excuse to be impulsive. 

I can identify an emotion in someone around me, and I can identify an emotion within myself. I can feel the energy in a room before I notice anything else. Despite the inconsistency I feel in my day to day life, feeling energy has remained consistent for as long as I can remember. I’ve always been incredibly sensitive to the energy around me, and I still am. I used to feel like it would suck me up and drown me overpowering any sense of self I thought I had. I would lose myself in the room or crowd effortlessly. Only coming back to myself once I found solitude. These days, I come back to myself with more ease. I credit this entirely to my yoga practice. A practice of uniting the self with the self. Truly feeling what it means to return to the self. It’s why even when my life feels inconsistent, busy and unstructured I feel grounded. I feel focused and calm. I feel the flow of creativity and I roll with it.

When I miss addiction I remind myself I am still addicted to some things. So relax girl, you haven’t exactly kicked the addictive behavior thing yet. Lately I’m addicted to bettering myself and challenging myself. This addiction looks different than an alcohol addiction, thank God. It doesn’t leave me feeling drained and depleted every day. Although some days it does. Progress over perfection, ya know?

When I miss addiction I remind myself to be present. I find what I’m missing is a life I thought was filled with excitement. Nights out, meeting new people and never ending “where to next?” conversations. I was always seeking and searching for something greater than where I was or what I had. Now I find gratitude for where I am in the moment. I recognize the impermanent nature of life and all things in it. I value the days and moments when I feel like things aren’t as exciting as I want them to be. These days remind me of how much peace I have in my life.

When I miss addiction I let myself miss it. Then I take a breath, take a moment and look at the beautiful life I’ve created for myself and find gratitude for how far I’ve come. I land in the present moment and allow myself to feel the coolness of an inhale and warmth of an exhale. Listen to the sweetest music as a song I love plays me in to teach my favorite vinyasa class of the week. I appreciate the touch points of consistency I have in my life, and live for the space I have to flow. 

The ability for an addict to commit to something is not to be underestimated. This is something I think about often, and remind myself when I feel like I wasted years of my life being a drunken slob kabob. I fully committed to that life, and the eventual outcome of destruction and discomfort was a guaranteed result I begrudgingly accepted. I still have that intense commitment within me, but I’ve redirected it. To things my former self would find boring and lame. Which is how I know I’ve grown and changed. Miss addiction is still around and kickin’ she’s just less of a menace.  I don’t consider myself ‘cured’. I see versions of my former addict self in my current healthy self. I identify the way my addictive behavior still exists in my yoga practice, writing habits, shopping. It is the ability to pause and recognize the behavior. The impulsivity coming from a place of desire. Desire for something other than this moment. The present. The desire to improve upon the life I am living. Craving is born out of desire, and desire is directly related to our ability or inability to find gratitude. Gratitude for where we are right now. These days when I miss addiction I find the gratitude. For the people I love, the things I do, and the life I get to live. And then I realize I don’t miss addiction so much after all…