When Life Feels Like a Lot
The guardianship process for my daughter, Dylan, is in month four. If you’re new here - Dylan is the middle of my 3 daughters. She turned 18 recently and my husband and I have retained legal guardianship of her since she is disabled. Dylan has Down Syndrome and Autism; she is non-verbal and needs 24/7 care and supervision.
Every time a new envelope arrives in the mail, my chest tightens. The knot in my stomach forms before I even open it. The inefficiency of these systems required for this process is mind-boggling, and the weight of responsibility can feel endless.
But - you know what I’m grateful for?
That I don’t drink anymore.
Drinking me would’ve been an emotional tornado: ranting, crying, spiraling into pity and frustration.
I would’ve tried to escape the stress by pouring glass after glass, convincing myself I “deserved” it after a long day (long months, hell - a long 18 years).
And then I’d wake up feeling worse; physically, emotionally, spiritually.
Sober me still cries sometimes (because that’s a healthy human reaction), but I don’t unravel. I can stay calm and rational, even when I’m scared or exhausted. I can hand my worries to God instead of trying to drown them. I can breathe, pray, and trust that I can carry this load, one day at a time.
That’s one of the most beautiful truths about sobriety: it doesn’t just change how we deal with alcohol. It changes how we deal with life.
The tools we learn - surrender, patience, perspective, faith - start spilling into and soon shape every other area of our lives.
Some days are still hard. Some seasons feel like a lot. But drinking would never actually fix any of it. The temporary numbness, the fake relief, the quick escape; they all come at the cost of deeper pain later.
So even on the days when I’m crying and just.so.exhausted… I’m still grateful to be sober.
Because feeling it all means I can move through it all.
And when I surrender those feelings to God, I’m reminded that I don’t have to do any of this alone 🖤
xx - Shannon