This is a letter to my Crew…but it could be for yours too.
…Times is hard, and you don’t need me to tell you that, the shit is being flung at us from all directions…we are all too aware of the circumstances.
…And you know who is getting you through it: from your higher power to your bestie and Boo. I know my team, and I lean on them as they lean on me…a precarious fucking tent of life, struggling to make it from one day to the next, and I am so constantly grateful for them sticking out in the rain with me.
…And I am constantly amazed by their strength and what we can accomplish together by throwing an entire team at whatever-the-hell new horror crosses our collective paths. I am honored by these people in their acceptance and support. I love these people, for all the reasons, especially for what they consider their foibles and failings.
I trust them.
I trust them.
I trust them.
I say that three times, because I trust almost no one.
…For good reason.
…For the reasons that have ended other friendships, and still continue to.
…But not these ones.
It is very very difficult, as I walk away from another unworthy friendship, to continue to stay open to others. After all, trust is trust. Period. It is there or not. There is no gray area in opening your heart and soul to a person. And betrayal…it seems to pop up in one’s history time and again. One says, “I should have known, I should have been more guarded. It’s my own damn fault. ”
….But instilling trust should not be a fault.
Why do we make it one?
Why must it be added to all the shit in the already long list of “be careful, be watchful, be suspicious, beware? ”
That list is so fucking long…I’m tired of the fucking list. We are tired of the fucking list. It is exhausting and always there…never ends, never depleats, only is added onto. Constantly.
…And as I all but have disappeared from Facebook, and lack the ability to tweet, and attempt to align my Google Stream toward blissful innocents of all politics and horror-alerts, I see things like Nanette on Netflix, and am so arrested I watch it twice so I can hear it again.
…It is brilliant and bold and beautiful and horrible. It is art of trauma in the being of one human, and it is real. And it is representative of a million stories…all totally different.
We are so many walking wounded.
…And while the predators continue to circle new prey, and we struggle to fight through our daily rough patches, I just wish that everyone could have the prayers and support that I am so blessed to have. It hasn’t and won’t prevent the unthinkable that life throws at you, but to have people who are there to help you get up off the ground, and regain some sense of dignity and humanity again. To have people who love you, no matter what…it is everything.
Today is my 30th day sober.
…For a variety of reasons, the drying out was a necessity. It will not be a forever-lifestyle, but it will be a serious tasking to monitor and be vigilant about the limitations of.
…For the rest of my life.
I’ve known it and ignored it too long. For personal reasons, I was finally pressed to acknowledge that acceptance. I don’t like it, but I understand it to be, in fact, the truth. And I get to add that to my laundry list of broken bits that rattle around in my brain, feeding self doubt and blame and a sense of weakness and frustration.
…I will never be Bette-Davis-awesome, swilling an entire bottle of whiskey in a sitting, again. I, in fact, do have a liver…made of: liver. And as dissapointed as that makes me — that is also a truth.
…But there is still a group of friends and family on speed dial who pick up, whenever I float a “help, I’m an idiot ” text, who like me anyway.
They love me, actually.
…How amazing is that?!?
…No matter what!
And that helps.
…In fact, that makes all of this possible.
This 30 is to you.
…With love.
(And devotion.)
Always,
~D
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