Rescripting the past.

In the last two weeks, I've found myself in an interesting situation and time in my sobriety. While I have been sober for almost eight years, I always feel like I've been missing something. There are times when I think that I miss the excitement of irresponsibility and the extreme life highs that can come as a result of being a raging alcoholic. The spontaneous and unstable free fall that comes with caring about few consequences and living with reckless abandon. The drama. The sheer intensity in which an addict lives.

So, here I've been, unemployed, living back full-time in a town that I've long since left mentally. We live in a community of intense eclecticism. Mountains, rocks, sky. A small town of people addicted to one thing or another, depending on which way the wind blows. And, by my own choice for several reasons, many of the people and situations that I had long forgotten made a guest appearance back in my life.

And there are several reasons for this. I have been intrigued to dip my toes back into my life as an addict. Not drinking, of course, but living vicariously through others who are spiralling down to rock bottom. I've watched myself slip back into a very comfortable place, one where responsibility and emotional growth comes to a screeching halt and the unfulfilled desire for excitement comes flooding in. It's been, in the last two weeks, both exhilarating and frustrating to say the least.

In essence, I have lived the last two weeks many many times in my former life. The people and circumstances haven't changed at all. And because of this, I have been remarkably tempted to try to re-script events and feelings that have been dormant for years. While I am dipping my toes in this life, I am still very much aware of my surroundings. The drama, while incredibly enticing, is not without hard falls after the peaks. And for what? To try and rectify what I couldn't fix in the first place. Other people's actions. My inability to exist in that life. It doesn't work for me anymore.

So, now, the drama has ended. I never came close to jumping into the pool, but I was reminded that no matter, I won't be able to swim in those waters again. Never could and never will. Re-writing the past is not an option. Living in the present and being fully present in life is the most rewarding and healthy option for someone who almost lost life so many times.

And, I'm sitting here watching the door close on another chapter. While I am sad, I never doubted the outcome from the beginning. I went through the last two weeks absolutely aware of what would happen. I remain slightly bruised from not being able to rewrite my own history and help stop someone at terminal velocity downward, but so so very happy that I do not have to. Everyone writes their own story.