...I'm not OLD!
Oh wait, this is real life, not a Monty Python movie. I'm forty-nine and two-thirds and that might not be old but it's definitely not young...and Day 37 might not be a lot but it definitely isn't nothing either.
Plenty of emotional rollercoaster today. Stepping out of the house for morning coffee was wonderful and bright. On the flip side though, there was a point this evening when I was completely stewing in rage far out of proportion to anything even potentially causing it. Didn't want to drink but wouldn't have minded chewing the legs off most of the furniture and maybe some of the people...but it passed.
I keep telling myself "Raw. The word for early sober emotions is 'raw' for a reason. Also 'volatile.'" I frequently remember that line from I'm-pretty-sure-it-was-Caroline-Knapp about "you sit there thinking 'these are the exact feelings I was drinking to avoid.'"
It eventually settles down, though, that I know too.
Raw is a good word for those feelings. You stop drinking and a whole host of frustrations bubble up. I have definitely had those chewing legs off the furniture thoughts. You aren't old. 50 just isn't old any more, it just means you have finally grown up. Embrace it when it comes :-)
ReplyDeleteAll these feelings are normal and seemingly time related since we are experiencing similar things. Even at the best of times I can experience rage disproportionate to the circumstance and it is a switch that once flipped cannot be just turned off. If you wait long enough everything passes. Hard to remember that in the moment though.
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