Please Remain Seated

What a week. In terms of an emotional rollercoaster, this one was the triple loop. I wish I could make a cultural reference to a famous rollercoaster, but I've always been one to hate them. Genuinely hate them. Same goes for horror films. I don't do well with fear. Some people thrive on it. I cower and cry in a corner. 

So did anything precipitate this wondrous ride I went on? Well, actually, no. I've experienced some pretty traumatic and stressful events in my life (and conversely some exhilarating, miraculous ones) and this week was a flatliner. There were no blips on the radar or snags in the fabric. There was just my brain chemistry and the havoc it can wreak. 

I've been sober for 50 days. That's probably the longest stretch since I was 15 years old. What I've learned about myself in these past 50 days could fill a book, but it's a novel I'm not yet ready to share with the world. In case you're wondering, sobriety isn't easy (understatement). At least not for me. 

So amidst the ups and downs, how does one celebrate the beauty in life? Well, you know what, sometimes I have absolutely no idea. I didn't get to every day. I just didn't. Over the course of the week I went from fine, to lethargic, to existentialist crisis, to finding spirituality, to feeling positive about my life, to ecstatic. All of this culminated in a manic Monday morning which, to those of you who aren't familiar with these episodes, are a whole lot of fun and self-destructively dangerous. So the only thing I can think of to celebrate life itself. Wow, what a ride.


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