For a few weeks, I was waking up, not hungover, fully alive and aware and not in pain- but SO heavy in my heart.  So awful.  So angry and hurting and broken… so not wanting to deal with another day.

I would roll right into my pillow and angrily sob.  Before I thanked God for another day, before I sat up or wiped the crusties off my eyes, I would cry.  I was angry to be waking up.  Angry to have another whole day ahead of me.  Another whole DAY?!!!  I woke up depressed.  AA friends say I should call someone when I feel like that.  Eh.  I just cried.

Eventually I rolled out of bed and fell to my knees in front of my doorwall and prayed.  Even though I didn’t “feel” like praying.  I didn’t feel the love in that moment, all I felt was despair and frustration and anger at myself- even though it didn’t feel warm and fuzzy, I prayed on my knees and asked God to take away my depression, to remove my compulsions and obsessions- not just drinking but my compulsions for unhealthy eating, my compulsion to control everything, my compulsion for cigarettes… to restore me to the beautiful person I could be, in His eyes.

The thing is, only God can get me through those stupid, heavy, dumb, pointless moments of feeling sad about nothing.  I mean really.  What was I sad about?  I was sad to be alive?  Sad to wake up?  Wow, rough life.  I needed God.  I always need God, but I NEEDED God.

When it becomes a habit to just roll your hot mess down to your knees and pray, things get better.  Not an epiphany OH WOW, now I’m awesome, but a release… an exhale, a little weight taken off your heart.  Less pressure pushing on your heart, in a very physical, literal way.

So that isn’t happening any more, the early morning sobs, the sadness to wake up… I remember one Saturday or Sunday I woke up and didn’t pray, and got down to the kitchen and sobbed onto H’s shoulder, he was confused.  Nothing had happened yet.  I’d just woken up!  He asked if I should restart my anti depressants.  I went to church, committed to NOT smiling if I didn’t feel like it.  Not being friendly or holding my shoulders upright, but to just allow myself to slouch over.  I didn’t put on my nice clothes, I wore junk.  I didn’t make much eye contact.  I walked around with a probably visible chip on my shoulder, but where I really felt it was on my heart.

Through the service, I decided to go through the motions.  To just sing even though I didn’t feel like singing.  To pray even though I didn’t feel like praying.  I didn’t open my mouth big or push my voice to be loud, I just barely did it all.

By the end, I was smiling.  I was still distant and unhappy, but I was “okay.”  I don’t have to be in a deliriously good mood at church 100% of the time.  I can be pleasant and okay without being everything to everyone.  I can connect with GOD when I’m not wearing my Sunday best, either on the floor in front of my doorwall or in His house on Sundays.  Prayer makes that possible.  Connecting with Him makes that possible.  It is good.


My struggles now are not in the morning.  I’ve been waking up feeling happy, light, and thankful, which is just delicious.  I jump into school work, prayer, happily peruse facebook, respond to emails, drink coffee, love my children… but by the time all that new excitement of another day wears off, by the time 12 or 2 or 4 rolls up, I am very heavy and sad.

Yesterday I went out and snow gardened and it was just the shift that my soul needed.  To go be with God’s earth, to admire his work in the ground, in the trees, to feel the sunshine that He gives us every day……. I felt vibrant again.  This whole sobering up thing is hard.  It’s not what I anticipated AT ALL.  I say that all the time.  There is so much to it.  It is coming back to life, accepting what is real and opening up to it without being scared of it and needing to drink.