Emotional Sobriety and Turkey

It's Thanksgiving, which means expressions of gratitude and deep feelings for stuffing and dessert are running high. I can appreciate all of it. I, too, have deep feelings of thankfulness and overwhelming emotions towards pie.

I'm also deeply familiar with other side of the holiday season--the side most people don't want to talk about: the pangs of loneliness; the wishing we could go back in time; the missing of family members and old traditions. While I sit in gratitude for all I have today, I have to hang on to my emotional hat in order to protect my physical and mental health.

It's called maintaining my emotional sobriety, and for a highly emotional person, it's easier said than done.

Emotional sobriety means holding on to my center instead of resorting to addictive behaviors when things aren't going "my" way. It means reaching out to a friend instead of picking up a glass of Merlot. It means listening and showing understanding to a struggling family member instead of hanging on to resentment. It means letting the small shit go instead of gnawing on it over and over.

My emotional sobriety means setting boundaries with people and places and things so I maintain my physical sobriety. It means sometimes saying no to you when I want to say yes, and it means saying "that's not for me" when, on some days, every fiber in my body wants to say "oh hell yes, I'm all in!"

It's hard. It's a practice. God, I'm so imperfect.

Why do I talk about it? Because it's uncomfortable and if I don't share it, it will consume me. And just maybe, by saying my truth outloud, someone will resonate with it and feel less alone.

Today, I will have dinner with someone special--someone who shares my love for food and sobriety and sparkling cider. It is exactly where I want to be. I hope today finds you exactly where you want to be. And if it doesn't, I am there beside you, cheering you on as you try to hang on to your own emotional hat.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.