For Real This Time

April 12, 2017

I never really got into the term "humbling." Like, I don't think it's "humbling" to win an Academy Award, right? That's the opposite, that's like "arrogant-ing", to be confirmed as a big fucking deal in front of everyone you know.


But if humbling equates to being publicly embarrassed by your own very public actions, then I definitely think it's "humbling" to return to the blog where you last touted your sobriety before going on a months-long off-line bender, only to end up back at A.A. much more convinced that their shit applies to you.


So. Hello. I'm humbled to be writing for you again, dear reader.


It's been a full set of seasons since my last post--with springtime, a return to my vices; a summer in which I simultaneously indulged wild blessings and bone-grinding depression; and an autumn that saw my collapse into an intensive outpatient program for mood disorders. Hence the newfound dedication to not drinking anymore goddammit seriously I mean it. Now I'm sober (six months), newly diagnosed as bipolar (probably more on that later I assume), and hoping to come back to writing minus the anxiety that once left me writhing on the floor at the prospect of answering an email.


I've been proud of how past posts felt neat and clean, but full-time therapy has shaken plenty loose in me. There'll be more ragged ends here. I hope it makes for better reading.


I'll see you the next time I think a thought too long for Twitter.

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