|Are you thinking what I'm thinking?|
I wrote about getting sober and then getting caught up in some life crap and then drinking again - and stopping for 94 days and then secretly, inelegantly drinking from the bottle before 11am.
And how I could rebound back up from underneath my desk with the bottle hidden against my chair and go "mmm" or "oh - uhuh" a lot so you couldn't smell my breath.
My life was unfiltered chaos and the blog was a reflection of that. People loved the failure and the disaster and the complete fucking mess of me unpeeling word by word.
It was deliciously voyeuristic - peering through the keyhole at my screwed up life.
Then I stopped smoking. Started running half marathons. Chained myself to 6am yoga class. Became a devout meditator. Stopped drinking completely, finally, forever. Found space for spirituality.
And people drifted away. In search of the next slow motion car wreck blog - complete with pathetic angst ridden writer and hopelessly hair-brained plot - complete with failure, bubbling resentment and vacuous personal insight.
The passing crowd shrugged their shoulders and moved on and I was left in their wake - fitter, happier, in touch with myself - but hopelessly overlooked and publishing post after post to empty comment sections.
I'd love to say I don't care. I'd love to say that running along the beach, with dolphins cartwheeling alongside me, yoga babes grinning those silly upside down smiles, drinking raw green berry smoothies and finding that delicate space in the gap when I meditate - I'd love to say it is enough and I'm happy to retire from my bruising encounters with the drink and existential torture.
I'd love to say more - but I also know when things have moved on - when things have evolved and maybe that's me right now.