Seven days ago I started on a journey.
From between “a rock and a hard place” with no in-between. I chose to venture into the “hard place”, searching through the “fog” for signs of life, through the wailing and the sobs and the abandoned hopes and hidden fears. Searching for ME. I knew there was still a pulse there. I could hear it throbbing, drumming, drawing me to it like a spirit to the flame. It was MY Lifeforce. Vaguely familiar, it was the CHILD IN ME, a time when there was WONDER, GLEE, and BELIEF. The first four days were hell. I felt like my skin was being peeled off, strip by strip. RAW. Nowhere to turn, no turning back, enough was enough, walking forward through it, self-soothing, self-propelling. SOBER. I ACCEPT THAT THIS IS A LIFE LONG COMMITMENT. I ACCEPT MY SOBER AUTHENTIC SELF. Now what? A whole new world of what, an unpredictable, achievable, new place for me to stand with clear perspective, to fall with steadfast dignity, and rise again with trust in myself by the hand.