Goodbye 2018 and hello 2019. Part 1 of 2. *A sobering goodbye.

Maybe my resolution this year should be uh... TO WRITE MORE....ya think?

Jesus H Christ.

The less you do something the harder it is to do it. That's definitely been proven true.

I started writing this blog right before I got sober, then I just kind of got sober on this blog. I didn't intend for that to happen, it just sort of did. And this blog has seen a lot of shit.

When you first get sober everything is a whirl wind, you're feeling feelings you never let yourself feel, you're meeting people and making connections that are different than any sort of relationship you had before, your learning who you are and who you want to be.

But it gets to a certain point where it just becomes maintenance. Things aren't shiny and new anymore, they're not crazy and hectic, and it gets easy to coast.

Let me tell you, I do not do well in coast mode.

I remember as a kid in school and I would legit get yelled at for coasting. My parents wanted more for me, not for me to just skate through life. To not pay attention to my surroundings and take nothing in.

Now, I want more for myself.

Coasting is being complaisant. It's not exceeding. And 99% of the time I need a good swift kick in the balls to come out of coasting. This has been the pattern of my life and my sobriety.

From the outside my life looks good. And you know what? It is. But we all deal with our own demons.

For the past two months I have really been debating my sobriety. I have 6.10 years sober and I achieved a lot the things I hoped to when I set out to get sober.

In November, I saw my psychiatrist that I have been seeing for the past 6 years since my most recent psychosis and he gave me a new diagnosis.

He told me I was normal. That what happened to me at the hospital 6 years ago was an isolated, drug induced psychosis.

This is one of the most confusing diagnosis' I have ever received in my 28 years of seeing doctors. Ever since I was a little kid I have been seeing psychiatrists who have been trying to pin point what it is exactly is that is wrong with me. ADD, addict, alcoholic, depressive, manic, bipolar, dual diagnosis, possible schizophrenic, are all labels I have worn.

When I was 20 I had a doctor look at me and say, "You are bipolar and you're an alcoholic. You have to stop drinking and go to AA." This made me incredibly angry and I never saw that doctor however, I did gain a sense of clarity, eventually, from that label. Which was part of the reason I didn't drink.

And now I'm normal? What the fuck does that mean? That's the most confusing label I have ever received.

So... I can drink and smoke pot...?

Immediate answer- no gab.
Delayed, thought out in my head discussed with no one answer- maybe....?

And like I've gone through this before. I've rationalized drinking again. But never in the way that this new label made me rationalize before. This was my get out of jail free card.

But then I started getting these signs. Little things from my Aunt Dana. Sometimes you have a force so strong in your life that it propels you in a different direction.

Part of the reason I got sober is because I truly felt my deceased Grandma and Aunt telling me they couldn't protect me anymore from harming myself. It was something that came over me. I have trouble explaining but call it a white light moment if you want... It was one of the many, many factors in my ultimate decision to give up boozing. I have lost a lot of people and I believe that they now help guide me, but I basically felt I was wearing out my Gran and Aunt.

So recently I've been getting little signs from my Aunt. Kinda like, "uh yeah dumbass still here and you're being a fucking moron right now."

And I just had been kinda ignoring it all. Coasting. In my head I was like, "Yeah I'm not going to drink right this second but like I'm good on my own right now." One of the many times I have relied solely on myself and not on the helping hands of other people.

And today I had a coming to Jesus moment.
Death.

There's some statistic for AA that's like, "3 people come in. 1 stays, 1 relapses, 1 dies." And it's true.

I have seen so many people die from Alcoholism but there are certainly specific people who hit me harder than others.

This girl I knew from AA, died today and it really fucking hit me. I wasn't even really her friend but I feared for her life. She was one of those people who was a constant relapser. It would seem like she truly got sober but then next thing I knew she was back out there. She had some crazy shit happen to her that I thought for certain would make her never touch another substance in her life. But today I found out she died from this disease.

When this kind of thing happens I just hope she is out of the suffering that clearly took over her life and I like to think she is out of misery and in a beautiful place. But I also can't help but think that I'm so fucking lucky. I'm so lucky that I figured out how to stay sober for this long, by the grace of fucking god. I'm so lucky I'm not in misery. I'm so lucky I'm alive.

It honestly doesn't matter if I'm normal or schizophrenic. I have been going to AA for 6 years and I keep going back into those rooms and talking to those people because I am one of them. I am an alcoholic. I'm not normal. I'm Gabriella. And I love that I have AA to give myself a life and a way to live.

I also found out that one of my best friends moms died today. And because of this person passing I am able to show up for her and help her in anyway I can.

Life should be fun and celebrated but it's also precious and we never know how much time we have. Maybe I could have a drink and not die but at this point I get more out of staying sober and going to meetings.

Shit's not easy. Being fucking 28 is not easy. But, in the words of my mother and Pop Pop, "No one ever said it was going to be easy." There are things you can do to make it easier and not miserable.


When I started writing this blog it was almost a daily practice. No it has come to be a place where I come for crisis. I don't want to do that anymore.


I want to recommit. Because another reason I have written on this for so long is because it is a way for me to help other people. And I was gently reminded of that this week.

Yes, there are people I have known who have died but there are also people I have gotten to help get sober, and that too is a beautiful thing all on it's own. I have this gift that I am able to give away to others just by telling my story.

My favorite time of year to write on this blog is around New Year's because well... duh New Year, New me.

But I also like to take time to reflect on the year that has just past. We can't really move forward if we don't know where we have come from...

And boy has this year been a year...

Ok Yabbers, I'm gonna give you two posts this week. This is part one, stayed tuned to hear about 2018 and how 2019 is the year of the Yab.

To Be Continued...