I’m not sure if it was the environmental circumstances or all in my head but today was a good one. Started it off in a quiet home, alone, except for a comatose dog. It was a day I'd been waiting for for a while. Having survived on antidepressants (and wine) for many years, whilst dealing with the crippling anxiety and fear over the trauma of a nasty divorce. I just don't want to numb myself anymore. A few health scares have brought me closer to the sensitivity of my body despite a tough exterior. I need to drink more water, eat more veg and not use booze as a single-parenting crutch. I also don't want to be medicated for the rest of my life. Something has to change, but nobody other than me can make it happen. I need to dig deeper than I ever have and find more determination, more drive, more sanity. I can't take all the credit, there has been some inspiration along the way. But it wasn't until recently with a prolonged spell on antibiotics, it really dawned on me how much better I feel and how much more energy I have when I’m not drinking (I mean it could be the fact I also had no kids to look after the same time, but I’d like to think it was toxins and back-to-back functional hangovers leaving my body).
I got so much work done, I also decided that it was the only time to gut the upper floor of my house and make as much dusty mess as humanly possible. Yet, I still had energy, and I didn’t have doubts and I didn’t have fears. I exercised, I danced, I laughed. So coming out the other end of that, especially with the kids return looming, I was determined to not drink for a while. And that I did. I poured myself a glass of wine yesterday and I only needed a few sips. I didn't even finish the glass. I want to get to a place where I am not urged to drink the minute the shit hits the fan, but more savour the odd glass, here and there. Is that even possible in today’s systemic society. Every greeting card mentions prosecco or gin. You can’t escape the culture or stigma of being sober-curious or tee-total easily.
As a historical hedonist, I'm not blinkered to the world of narcotics, both herbal and synthetic. I’ve been hearing about microdosing for years and I’m a recent convert to functional mushrooms in my daily coffee. It wasn't until a friendly wizard waltzed into my life recently and by a chance conversation was bequeathed a 3 month supply. How could I say no?
So at my desk, I've been for the last few hours, setting up this blog and social accounts and registering everything. Writing 3 articles, a series of welcome emails and a dedicated Spotify account (as there is always a soundtrack to journeys like these). I’m not likely to blast off in an explosion across the internet, I just want a few key people to keep in touch via the channels they feel most comfortable with, so I had to go across the board to keep them all content.
It felt good though. Spinning my way through tech-wormholes at speed and listening to reggae. The blog is about my first failed attempt to buy a majestic looking pad in Italy, convert it into a rentable holiday home for summer income and then host wellness and healing retreats out of season. Hopefully spending Christmas there with my family and catching a boxing day ski in honour of my Dad, who’s birthday it is, and who is still at the age of 84 my ski buddy. I found the perfect one back in 2022 and I oddly had the money to buy it, but bureaucracy got the better of me and if you've read my other posts, you’ll know I was actually fortunate in hindsight.
So now after some coincidental inspiration, I am back on the road to Italy, to find a suitable Castello fit for a queen (me obvs.)
Once I finished my tech tunnel, I noticed the rain had stopped and the sun was out to play. The dog was bored and outside was calling. Everything was bright and glistening. There was a gentle summer breeze and no-one was about to cross paths with.
Now this is me, back here at my desk to wrap up a day of micro-balance, micro-joy and micro-calm. I think this is going to work.