Oblivion

Today has been stressful. I had a small procedure done this morning which turned out to be more uncomfortable than I had anticipated, and I will have to wait a week for the results. Speaking as someone who will only have my hair cut if I can get an appointment for the SAME DAY (impulsive, much?) a week feels like a really long time. I should clarify that my doctor recommended the procedure to rule out anything serious, because she is thorough – not because she thinks there is anything seriously wrong. Still, I left her office uncomfortable and a bit emotional, and a little whisper snaked seductively into my thoughts: “Wine would help. It’s Friday.” Wine would not help, I resolved, but this felt less like a moral victory than a grave disappointment. (“If only I hadn’t started yet, or done all this reading,” is in fact what I thought. “If only I didn’t know.” How’s that for a bit of distorted logic.)

This afternoon my kindergartener had an epic tantrum (overtired) and as he writhed about he kicked me full in my still-tender belly. I reacted badly. I was so angry and upset with him, and then sorry for myself and then sorry for him – he is still just a baby, and life can be HARD – and it was all just a bit much. Less seductive than willfully destructive this time, I thought, “I could just drink and not deal with any of this shit.” 

What I have been sitting with since is the uncomfortable truth that EVEN THOUGH I understand that the wine won’t fix anything – will in fact in all likelihood make all sorts of things worse – the promise of a short-term reprieve (in the form of wanton oblivion) is still very tempting. I think there is a jokey aphorism along the lines of, “Why face today what can be put off until tomorrow?” or something like that, and boy does it ever resonate with me. Somewhat related I guess is the germ of acceptance that if I am going to choose NOT to miss my life any more, but to be fully present in it, I am going to have to stick around and find my way through the crappy stuff too. Not earth shatteringly profound, I’ll grant, but it is what I am sitting with on this 12th day (second Friday!) of my new non-drinking life. 

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Oblivion”

  1. It is profound! Understanding that we can sit with suffering without being consumed by it is a massive leap. It was for me at least, I numbed out at even the smallest annoyance. I’m still learning to do this. xx

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s