{Essay Submission} The Joys of Starting Over

I received this reader essay submission back in August, and as soon as I read it, I knew I had to share it with you. It's moving. It's honest. It's inspiring. And it's a subject I've never touched on here on the blog, but one that has a long history in my family.  

Similarly, this essay was written by a former student, friend, and yogi who I simply adore. I had no idea that he had this story to share, and am honored that he has chosen to share it here. {And yes, I have male readers! He is one of them!} 

The writer has asked that he remain anonymous, so there will be no mention of his name before or after the essay, but if you would like to give him any feedback, you can leave your comments here and he will see them.

You can read his essay below...

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The Joys of Starting Over

I have repeatedly been asked to tell my story by writing it down, but I have always held back. I don't naturally think of writing things down as a way to record them, which is unfortunate, as I can barely remember the thousands of thoughts that run through my head on a daily basis.   

The easiest way to start my story, and to describe myself, is to say that I am an alcoholic and have been for a while. 

The good news is that I’ve been sober for more than three years and I am extremely lucky. I do not intend to use this essay to describe the miserable experiences that I've had--both physically and emotionally--because too often, we only hear about horror stories or tragedies, and I have a special fondness for stories of hope and love, specifically for the reason that I seem to hear and/or read about them much less often.

I always drank, and for the longest time, I didn’t think it was a problem. At first it seemed to me that the issue wasn't a personal one, that it was just a problem for others, so I did what I thought was necessary, and I withdrew. 

Many alcoholics do this. The last thing we want to be told is that we're drinking too much and that this drinking is affecting others. So, I withdrew. From my family. From my wife. From my kids. From friends. From work. From anything social and anything that required me to be anything but completely selfish; I was just gone.

And it got worse. Fast. 

In the span of less than two years, I lost my incredibly wonderful wife, my two amazing boys, a career with an amazing company, and a great house. And that still wasn’t enough. 

I had to lose all self-respect and pretty much any desire to live, except when it came to alcohol. My life had become small, difficult, full of depression, and very lonely. 

The best thing I ever did was throw up my hands in complete surrender and ask someone for help. When I did this, I somehow knew that that part of my life was over, and I was relieved beyond words. To this day, I’m still convinced that the greatest fear I have ever overcome was the process of restarting my life without drinking. 

I didn’t know if I could do it or if I would want to try. I don’t know what compelled me to start trying at life again, but I have the greatest amount of gratitude for the fact that it happened.

In the past couple of years that I’ve been sober, life has been everything that it is supposed to be:  beautiful, challenging, something worth waking up for, full of hugs, full of “I’m sorrys” and “thank-yous,” occasionally sad, and mostly glorious. 

Now, I am amazed by how much I feel when each and every experience comes my way. 

I have been lucky enough to restart my relationship with my now ex-wife and my two boys. It is better than it has ever been, in part, because I’m present. Life and the things that flow from it are better because words such as gratitude and joy actually mean something when I hear them--or better yet, they mean something when I take the time to think about them and feel them. 

I started practicing yoga a little while ago. This was something fairly new to me, as I had only tried it a couple of times when I was struggling. The physical aspect of it was difficult enough. The spiritual connection, at the time, was downright impossible. 

One of the biggest surprises for me has been finding myself occasionally laughing [quietly] or smiling at the end of class when the teacher reads a passage or asks us to bring something to mind to take with us throughout the day.

The majority of time this happens, it is something I desperately needed to hear at that moment. Maybe it is a reminder to be just a shade more mindful or perhaps to recognize the beauty of being able to connect with myself--mind and body--for an hour, and to be grateful for that hour. 

My mother died very suddenly almost two years ago, at a relatively young age, 61. Within a few short months, there were many moments of sadness, mixed in with laughter, and days when I just did not feel like getting out of bed because I knew, deep down, that something was missing. I imagine many people feel this way when they lose someone close to them. 

The memory I cannot get out of my head was what happened the night before she died. We had our normal conversation, and then she said, “I’m very proud of you and happy for you." 

I am amazed at how lucky I was to experience that conversation.  Not everyone gets the chance to have a moment like this with a loved one, but I did and cannot help but crack the slightest smile when I think about it.

At times, when with my two boys, I have found myself playing the role of troublemaker. Not in a bad way, but for instance, maybe we are playing catch and I purposely throw the ball further than needed just to make them run a little longer, to extend that moment of exhilaration for  five seconds more than intended. 

Why? 

Well, if I'm being honest, part of me enjoys the rolling of the eyes that I get from my kids, but also because I spent years and years running away or withdrawing from my life, and I really want to savor those extra five seconds now.

Maybe I feel that way because now, more than ever, I understand how lucky I am to be able to experience the moment of today and the joys that flow from it.  

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Thank you, dear writer, for this honest story on reconnecting with life. So happy that you have found such joy in the process!

And thanks for reading, everyone. 

Do you have a personal essay that you want to share with my readers? If so, all of the details re: how to submit your personal essay for review are here.