I love silence. Sometimes I spend entire evenings bathed in it. Since I have no kids (a topic for another time) and no loud animals (okay, sometimes my cat gets quite vocal), there is nothing to really create much noise in my home life. When Steve is in the back of the house and I am in the front, which is how we usually – happily – spend 50 percent of each evening, I am left in complete silence, if I choose. And I do. And it’s bliss.
When I was drinking, I couldn’t stand to be in silence. I had to have the TV on in the background, I had to be on the phone, talk talk talking away. I had to be doing something, anything, all the time. There was never quiet with drunkenness, always there was noise and motion, even if it was only in my head. Especially when it was only in my head. I used to wake up some mornings, immediately try to recall the previous evening, and get this flash of NOISE in my brain. Nothing clear, nothing quiet.
But that is no longer true. The last 102 days have been full of silence. Meditative silence.
Not drinking is the greatest thing I have ever done for myself. It’s something I have to choose every single day, but it is worth making that right choice over and over again. I’ve been struggling with esteem issues this last few weeks, but I just keep doing the next right thing each day, and it’s all I can do. And at the very least, I have reclaimed my precious, beautiful silence.