I’m a generally happy person. Sometimes annoyingly so. I’m glass half full, look for the positive, don’t worry things will get better, WE GOT THIS…
I’m also really good at looking for the positive from deep within the sand my head is shoved in. No negative for me, thank you, the positive must be just a little deeper here. Could you hand me my shovel?
I don’t want to discount my positivity. It’s one of my greatest strengths. If it doesn’t annoy the shit out of you, I promise you’ll find it quite endearing.
I’m learning, though, that I can’t out cheerful some things. One of the gifts sobriety has given me is the chance to sit with the tough stuff. Look at it. Feel uncomfortable. Acknowledge that it’s hard and unfair and hurts and it’s not going anywhere until I deal with it.
I used to deal with it by getting happy via a 6-pack. My happy, happy, cloudy cloud. But my cloud was getting way cloudier and I was losing my happy. I knew I was crossing a line when I started getting really mean with my husband sometimes. He is my favorite person on this planet and most assuredly doesn’t deserve a mean drunk wife.
Two weeks before I woke up and thought, “I think I’m done,” I yelled at my daughter with so much venom that I scared her. I never want to see that look on her face again. I am so ashamed that I made her feel like that. Never again.
It’s not that sobriety magically takes care of it all. When I put down my 6-pack shovel, kid worries, debt, clutter, body fat, etc, were all in my sandy hole with me. I had no choice but to load them up and start climbing out.
The beauty of hard, abrasive things, though, is that they have the power to slough off the dead stuff. (See what I did there!?!) I can’t out happy my problems, but I can look at them with clear eyes and my positive spirit. I can put down my shovel. I can open my toolbox.
Annoyingly cheerfully yours,