Everything I Ever Was

August 12th, 2025

Whenever I’m feeling spicy (and I’ve been very spicy this week [don’t act like you didn’t notice]), my ongoing recovery reminds me to reflect on myself and figure out why.

Sometimes it’s a complex web of things, anxiety and doubt and my schedule and projects and the state of the world, but sometimes it’s simpler than that.

It’s almost fall, and I really miss my mom.

In a month, it’ll be five years since she was fine and then she wasn’t and then she was gone. That time is always living inside of me, but right now it feels like my body’s throwing a rager.

One of the hardest parts of getting sober was not being able to imagine my life any other way. I was drinking daily, and never to get drunk but often to just feel normal. It wasn’t an aspect of my life; it was the entire jewel, everything I ever was, or so I thought.

I can’t recall exactly when, but at some point in my early recovery I remembered something: I used to be eight years old.

And my life was so much different then.

I was in love with the world. I pursued my passions, drawing and writing and being a superhero, and I was scared but also fearless. I didn’t just love life; life loved me back, and that was in the form of my mom.

The craziest part of being that age? I didn’t drink alcohol. I didn’t even need to.

And then I remembered that it was possible to do that again, because I already done it, and I was only eight years old.

It’s weird because when I got sober as an adult, my mom was the least expectant of me. I don’t know if it was because she wanted me know that she loved me whether I sober or not (I did), or if she had just never seen anyone go through recovery like I had chosen to. People drink. It doesn’t make them bad. To her, I wasn’t bad, either.

But I was. In fact, I think my moral framework is stronger than it’s ever been not because I have lived a straight and ethical life, but because I’ve been bad, I know the shame and guilt that being bad brings, and I do my best every day to not be bad again.

I recognize bad because I know how mirrors work now.

So anyway, if I’ve been a lot this week, either online or in person, I’m sorry. My bad. It’s almost fall and I miss my mom and I really thought that five years would be long enough.