the month that sucks

January is probably the hardest month of the year for me.  While others toast to a new year with new opportunities and new resolutions, I inevitably wonder how many more years I have to do this thing called life.  I thought that this year I would avoid such melancholic (is that a word?) musings, but they returned in full force tonight.

Winter is a tough time for many of us in recovery, one reason is that we watch an increased amount of friends relapse.  As I approach my 3 years of sobriety celebration at the end of January, I am humbly grateful for God's grace in giving me the ability to live a sober life for this many consecutive days.  And, I'm reminded that practically speaking, the odds are stacked against us with this disease- left to my own devices, I will likely drink again in the next 2 weeks.  "But God..."  My favorite intervention of all time.  I make no guarantees of staying sober until my 3rd anniversary- I've learned that this is a ridiculous promise- but I have little fear that any temptation to drink again in the next 2 weeks will overcome me, as long as I stay on my knees in total dependence on God.

Winter is also a difficult time for many of us who have mental illness, especially depression, especially in Minnesota.  The thought actually ran through my mind the other day, "It's winter, I feel like I should be in the psych ward at some point in the next couple months..." as if that is kind of a winter routine for me, even though it hasn't been for the past 2 winters...  I actually like winter, and love snow.  But my mental illness often has little regard for my enjoyment of situations or circumstances.

The thing that really caps January off as just an overall shitty month is the fact that I was born in January.  Throughout my life I have been asked why I hate my birthday so much and why I don't want anyone to know when it is... well, here's the answer, in filtered/censored form...

I hate my birthday because it reminds me that I was born; and that year after year I have to continue living a life that, while I appreciate the life I live, I still ultimately don't want to be alive.  I find the idea of anybody "celebrating my birth/life" appalling, because there isn't much worth celebrating.  I usually spend the days surrounding my birthday "in hiding" because I don't want attention- from myself or others- and birthdays are notorious for drawing attention.  But here I am getting sucked into this ridiculous focus on myself and how much I suck, so I'm already failing miserably.

[This would be another reason that winter is tough for many of us in recovery- I used to just drink to drown out all this crap going on in my mind...]

January is just a tough month for me.  I'm trying to use all of this to remind me to go to God, and remember each moment the deal I made with Him- that every day I have to wake up, I will also go to sleep that night- because He get's to decide when I stay (live) and when I finally get to go Home (die).  But every night as I thank Him for His faithfulness and goodness and mercy that I got to witness and experience throughout the day, and I ask Him to protect my mind and especially my dreams as I sleep, I also ask that I wouldn't have to wake up tomorrow, that He would let tonight be the night, but if not, I ask that He will wake me again tomorrow with gratitude and readiness to walk with Him on this earth another day..........

This is probably excessively raw and disturbing...  I have no tidy thought or sentence to end this with.  Maybe watch the SNL video below to cheer yourself up again...??