The Whole Wide World

That feeling of wanting to belong has been present ever since I got to Christchurch back in October. It makes sense; new job, new coworkers, new home, new friends, new everything. In some ways, many ways, when I got sober almost six years ago, I had to learn how to live all over again. And while life wasn’t better when I drank, sometimes it seems like it was easier, but I know it wasn’t. Having a drink was a social crutch. It took the edge off of uncomfortable situations aka social gatherings and it lubricated my voice box, making the small talk that I can’t stand, easier. At least that’s how I like to remember it. But, that’s only til it didn’t, because things typically always ended in shame, regret and remorse. And of course, it got progressively worse.

I don’t miss drinking. My life is infinitely better now that I don’t. Infinitely to the most infinite degree possible. Six years ago, I couldn’t imagine a life without alcohol and now I can’t imagine one with it. I have no desire to drink. It isn’t a temptation. I don’t want that life, but I want to belong. I want to be liked. I want to feel a part of.

The drinking culture is huge down here. It was during the summer season and that hasn’t changed going into winter. It makes sense. It’s cold and there are limited activities to occupy what little spare time we have. We get one day off a week. It’s the whole work hard play hard mentality. It’s just drinking isn’t play for me anymore. When I got sober back in Virginia, I parted ways with people who our only commonality was a barstool or glass of wine. My ride or dies remained, and actually, my circle grew bigger, and deeper, thanks to my new community made in AA.

I know that so much of my struggle to fit in down here is in my head. I believe, deep down, that my community like me and accept me as I am. Nevertheless, I get in my head about not fitting in more often than not. I have this stupid idea that sober Annemarie isn’t fun. I think that I believe that voice because when I wasn’t sober, I didn’t understand people who didn’t drink. It wasn’t fathomable to me, a life without alcohol. They must be so bored and boring. And now, I think that people think that about me and I make an outcast of myself, in my head. I find myself going out of my way to talk about my heydays, to share my drunkalog, trying to prove how fun I was. I truly am my own worst enemy.

I wrote to Snacks recently. My Appalachian Trail thru-hike partner. My free-spirited, carefree friend, who holds and will always hold a special place in my heart. I wrote to him to tell him how much I admire his free spirit and to tell him how much I wished I could be more like him; always singing and dancing, doing exactly what he wants without any thought of what others might think.

I feel like I have made such progress, getting sober, letting go of the conventional life I wasn’t fulfilled in. A life I am grateful for, because it set me up to be where I am today. In my note to Snacks I explained that I am free in the external sense; nothing tying me down, no bills to be paid, the whole world in front of me. I have that freedom, but the freedom I crave is to be free on the inside. Inside I feel so tightly wound, bound by a fear of judgement.

I want to be free on the inside.