So, I had a really fucked up dream last night. About getting really really wasted, pretending I wasn't wasted, and having sex with someone in a not very discreet place. And then I had to reckon with all the people who saw me having sex (including family members) and then I had to reckon with my sobriety and AA community about breaking sobriety. And the whole time I was lying to myself and everyone around me about how much I had to drink.
Which is kind of like a gross drawn out metaphor for the past... five years or something? I have a lot of shame tied up in my drinking, my sexuality, my ability to give consent, my relationship with my family. So, there's a lot of that at play in my subconscious, I guess.
There's a lot I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of getting drunk and fucking things up. I'm afraid of not being able to find love again. I'm afraid that the new friendships I'm so excited about will end up being disappointing over time. I'm afraid that once people get to know me, like really get to know me, they won't like me. I'm afraid of being abandoned. I'm afraid of all the things I can't control – including the state of our country, divisiveness, police brutality, systemic racism, the prison system. I'm afraid of being super fucking financially unstable. I'm afraid of what will happen when the people I love die.
That being said. Everyone is afraid of stuff. Probably all that stuff and then, like, a huge list of way more significant and legitimate things. I want to pick myself up and actually gain momentum so I can help other people who desperately need resources. I'm committed to doing my best. To showing up every day. To trying my fucking hardest to be present and to actually live and experience things. And to be better. And to help when I can and in the ways I'm able.
I choose to let fear go. But I have to keep choosing. It doesn't come naturally.
Actually showing up is the best way I know how to be like "yo fuck you" to my subconscious and my fear-brain. Like. Nah, I got this. I exist because of you and in spite of you. I am doing just fine. I am fucking trying, and you are not being nice to me. So I'm not going to talk to you anymore! That's me talking to my fear-brain.