Autobiography

Running, growing, and rap music

"rune" © Alessandro Pautasso, 2009. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
run” © Alessandro Pautasso, 2009. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

The past two weeks I’ve been only just functioning. December’s introduction left me incapacitated and stumbling. Wrapped in a blanket, curled up on the couch. This week I managed to pull myself from the apartment with unwashed hair and dirty fingernails. All hazy around the edges, my heart and my head were only half-way there. The kind of week I have trouble even remembering. My word. I know, I swear, I did things.

My exercise weeks start on Thursdays. Wednesday’s scheduled rest day has had a tendency to bleed into two or five days lately. My body has no idea how to go about sleeping these days. Running and trips to the gym get scrapped for sleeping in, cups of coffee, and promises to get it done this afternoon. There is always an excuse to find later. I know I have to trick myself to going outside before I even have a chance to think about it. Can’t fall for that, “Oh, come on, you have all day.” I know that isn’t true. Plus, I’ve always preferred the morning. Continue reading →

Relationships

Hunger

"Organic Onions" © Susy Morris, 2009. CC BY-NC 2.0.
Organic Onions” © Susy Morris, 2009. CC BY-NC 2.0.
I spent the morning handing out produce at a food bank downtown. Wrapped up in scarves and gloves we curved up our mouths at hundreds, making eye contact and conversation. “Just be warm and welcoming,” our volunteer coordinator told us. What that really means is, “Just acknowledge their humanity.”

Hungry. Not just their bellies. They want someone to see them. Someone to let them know that they’re noticed. They matter. They’re still worthy human beings.

Never in my life have I wondered where my next meal would come from. There were weeks when every meal was Top Ramen and cigarettes, but the meals always existed. I always had the luxury of being more concerned with my monthly booze budget. I made the decision to focus on getting high or drunk over getting fed, but always got fed anyway. I’m thankful for that. But I know the other kind of hunger. The kind Bruce Springsteen sings about. The one that volunteers and donation centers can’t combat. Continue reading →

Autobiography

Build

"Scaffold" © Andreas Levers, 2007. CC BY-NC 2.0
Scaffold” © Andreas Levers, 2007. CC BY-NC 2.0
I am a baby deer. Timid steps and quick to spook. Sober for 309 days and still not sure if I know how to do anything new. We get so set in our habits, so sure that things are the way they are. The way they have been. The way they will be. I start to plan accordingly even when I have no evidence of everything crashing around me. I never learned how to embrace stability, how to trust love, how to build something without constantly questioning my foundation or worthiness.

But I’d like to.

So I start to pull back the covers. Stop trying to point fingers at all sorts of made up problems and finally lean into the idea that I’m just terrified of not facing a great tragedy. Absolutely petrified by the idea that maybe the things around me are solid. That I can count on them and that it’s okay to act accordingly. It’s okay to relax. To stop digging around in the dirt for a molehill to make a mountain out of. You can breathe now, kid. It’s okay. Continue reading →