a nice problem to have
So... I haven't journaled in a while but realised I need to start again. Badly. I like "setting up" journal pages (some titles, tables, leaving a few pages blank for future use) and a calendar to mark off days for certain behaviours is invaluable to me thanks to being incredibly time blind. My most recent journal included a calendar for me to mark off each night I went without drinking, so it felt natural that I'd do it in this one too but kinda wanted to copy over the days already counted, so they're all included together and I get the benefit of seeing it all laid out and really see the time accumulating.
Problem. "That's going to be such a pain in the ass to re-write an entire year's worth of months, and then some."
"That would be such a pain in the ass because I would have to write out an entire year's worth of months, at that point I might as well write it for two years, or for however long this journal is going to last."
This stupid, trivial, beautiful little menial problem of mine just made me realise that I stopped thinking about my sobriety from alcohol in terms of days. I apparently don't even think about it in terms of months anymore. No. Apparently when I think about having to represent a timeline of "days without alcohol" now it feels like it extends out infinitely instead of being under threat of disappearing tomorrow. It isn't a conscious choice I'm having to make anymore, it's just... me, normal, my normal, my default setting.
I don't have much emotion when it comes to assessing myself, I don't care about myself, I'm not sure how much I can actually experience pride for myself or if I can at all, I can't "celebrate" something I don't see as an achievement particularly when I'm still an addict and falling apart at the seams... but fuck man.
I don't have anyone I can comfortably share this with right now, at least here I get to type out some stupid text with an unusually directed knot in my throat.
25/04/25. Didn't know a few little digits could ever mean so much to me.