Midnight reflections

I am proud of how far I have come in the last three months, even though I'm still broke. I'm out of cash, but I'm rich in faith and curiosity.

So here it is…about 2:30 a.m. once again. I don’t know why I write better at night, but I always have. The house is quiet except for the dog snoring, and I can watch or listen to whatever I want. In the last 24 hours, I have published two new blog pieces for Medium and SubStack. I wrote a poem as well. I love poetry. My new favorite thing is to put my poetry lyrics (which I frame as a song) into the Suno.com app. I tell Suno what I want the music to sound like. For example, with the last song, I chose pop-folk, slow acoustic guitar, and a bluesy female voice. I loved it, and I have gotten some great feedback! I don’t think Nashville will call for my lyrical expertise soon, but creating songs gives me such great joy! It’s an excellent way to see what the rhythm of your song or poem really sounds like. I highly recommend it for poetry and music enthusiasts alike.

After all the writing, I slept a few hours early this morning, got back up to get my kids off to school, began planning a new business venture with my sister, and did laundry. Then, I put together a beautiful new website for the business my sister and I are exploring. I even set up a FaceBook business page. She does not know this yet, and I expect she might be overwhelmed by all of this. She wanted to start out slowly by handing out business cards, pinning them to bulletin boards in the supermarket, and counting on the good old word of mouth. Seeing how competitive every market is right now, having a sophisticated website, a Facebook business page, and putting ourselves out there on Google is a good way to give us a leg up over the competition and make enough money to sustain ourselves.

But the point is I did all of these things by myself. Three months ago, I could barely set up my blog, and now I’m creating websites! I made a logo for our company and used it on the sample invoices I started to develop. I got us started with Google Business. We have a social media site for the business. We will obviously have to tweak some things, but I can make the adjustments online by myself. The icing on the cake is that I fixed my home Internet connection and the malfunctioning Google Chromecast to stream movies tonight. I didn’t need any help. I am becoming very resourceful. The last time we couldn’t stream Netflix in the living room was when my husband was away from work. So the kids and I sat there for two days, unable to figure out the problem. Daddy came home, and the kids gave him about five minutes before they started complaining that the casting wasn’t working. My husband walked over, looked at it, and simply plugged the Chromecast back into the television. Why couldn’t I have done that? Well, I can now. The more I learn, the less I need him for all the technological stuff. Despite years of denying it, I can understand and make the best out of my computers. I am excited about the ever-transforming digital age. I am teachable. I am capable.

These last few months have been a lot of first times for me. I continue to gain confidence in my ability as a writer. I don’t know if I will ever make enough money to sustain my family through my writing, but I am sure as hell trying. Even if this ends up being a side job or a hobby, that’s ok with me. I will still call myself a writer. Writing is so therapeutic. I can get all the stuff that bugs me and sits with me in the darkness down on paper. I hope to sell some pieces or articles to those who can relate to my words. But what matters to me the most is that my blog is being read. I’ve been sitting for a few years without anything positive to say. But I have found my voice now. I use it daily to share my life, and it is only getting stronger.

Three or four months ago, I had no idea where life would take me. I was terrified. I had just gotten sober after a long relapse and knew I could not go back to bedside nursing. I’ve had enough of the toxic environment, but I grieve the loss of my career. Nursing has been more than just a profession for the last ten years. It has been one of the primary defining qualities of who I am. Who am I if I’m not caring for patients, working crazy hours, wearing myself out to the point of no return, and slowly trading in my precious compassion for cynicism? I came home after long shifts to a family that needed me, but I had nothing to give in return. I was spiritually bankrupt.

So, I tried filling that emptiness with booze. But of course, I know I can’t drink like other people. I’ve done this experiment so many times before. The result is always the same. For this last relapse, I began with mimosas so I could excuse drinking in the morning. Clever, right? I initially thought the mimosas were fun, but eventually, I was glued to the couch, unable to feel anything but total misery. I was literally afraid that I might never laugh again. I only felt sorrow. The alcohol won once again. I was a living definition of the word “insanity.” Addicts are well-known for doing the same self-destructive things over and over again, always expecting a different result - thus the insanity. I know down to the deepest parts of my soul that I cannot go through another relapse. I barely made it back from this one.

After months of suffering at my own hand and with a few days of sobriety under my belt, my higher power spoke to me. I needed to start my recovery by moving in a new direction. I was incredibly ready to make every change I could to better my life and the lives of my loved ones. The urge to transform into the person I have always wanted to be was overpowering. I had seen the ads for nurses who have turned to freelance or contract writing, and I thought, why not me? I used to write every day for years. A poetry line would pop into my head while driving, and I would pull over and write it down in a notebook I always carried with me so I could hurry home and put it all together. I am determined to combine writing and nursing and make a career out of it. I am done working at the bedside.

Writing has always brought me so much joy. Why can’t it bring me joy again when I need it the most? It’s intimidating to start writing again after so many years. I’m using parts of my brain that I thought had given up on me. But the more I write, the better I feel about it. And the better writing makes me feel. I often find that I write what I cannot say out loud. I aim to write honestly because I can no longer hide behind a facade. And I hope that this resonates with my readers. We shouldn’t have to hide from people because we fear what they might think of us.

This entire process has taught me so much about myself I didn’t know. I am an AI enthusiast. I love ChatGPT and plan to take courses to better understand AI and computers. I belong to the OpenAI community. So many new advancements are being made daily, and I refuse to be left out of the updates. Don’t worry; AI never writes for me. My words are my own. But AI has taught me many things about writing, submitting articles, and creating a blog. I never dreamed about doing these things five or six months ago. I didn’t think I had it in me. I didn’t have the confidence.

I have enrolled in continuing education courses to become a certified addiction nurse. I’m even taking some classes to help me better understand computer technology and the impact AI is making in the medical field. I’m going to try writing code. Me - the woman who panics the second my computer freezes! I don’t plan on becoming a computer programmer, but I want to be well-versed in the vernacular. I want to explore the world around me in a way I never have. I have a renewed thirst for knowledge. My goals become more fine-tuned every day. I am a work in progress.

This post was initially supposed to be a note describing my inspiring day. Instead, I am sharing my progress and the new emotions surrounding it. Every day that I put distance between myself and the bottle is a day to be celebrated. Every day, I grow stronger and more encouraged. I am setting new goals, and after almost two long years of feeling stagnant, I feel like the much-needed improved version of myself.

I am working hard on creating my own authentic brand of storytelling. I still rely on notebooks after all these years, although I have tweaked my MacBook to the point that I know every tool at my fingertips. My beautiful notebooks with perfectly weighted paper are filled with journaling, poetry, reminders, and classes I will take. I record my thoughts, actions, and plans for the day. I write down what inspired me. I am keeping a record of how I am changing in recovery. I can’t wait to see what my journal looks like in a year….written proof that I worked very hard to reach out and help as many people as possible.

If I had not fallen as far as I did in this last relapse, I would not be reinventing myself like I am now. For this, I am so grateful. I am also thankful for figuring out this platform (I set it up by myself—another small victory) where I can share my work and hear from other excellent writers who post here. Thank you all for taking the time to read this.