I feel backed into a corner having to go back to work sober. Plus 3 hours of treatment per night, plus meetings, plus all my domestic responsibilities, plus raise my kid. Sober? Seriously?
I'm just going through all these thoughts and emotions and blinding panic. I don't know which will stick. Processing it I guess. It's how I feel right now. Terribly conflicted.
My job, horrendous as it is, is a huge part of my identity. I have deeply personal and powerful reasons for working with crime victims. It's really hard to give up what feels like my purpose. Redefining it to match my recovery is a huge undertaking, and one that I am not convinced is possible. I want both my job and my recovery, but I'm not sure I can have both. Whichever one I give up is going to hurt like hell. But yes, I realize I can't fight for justice if I'm dead.
This sucks so bad.
Anyway, I had a good day. I helped my friend design his pens, which required crafting a clever slogan. I think we nailed it, but I'll see what he ultimately chooses. His pens are a big deal for his business, they are part of his kinda weird but wildly successful marketing shtick, so it's an honor to be asked to help with them.
Weather is nice but very windy.
With the drought and mandated water restrictions, the Briar household has accepted the 3 minute shower challenge, which is going much better than I expected. I did yesterday's in 2 minutes 30 seconds, and believe it or not I smell all right!
Much love to all.