Coffee or Tea? Sober Adulting

Dear Reader,

I just woke up at 2:45 a.m., I am fully awake but I stepped outside and there was only one bird to greet me. I live in the suburbs, so even though official daylight is 4.5 hours ish away there is enough light to see a good amount and the air is heavy with mugginess, the unrefreshing beauty of South Texas.

I don’t complain because South Texas may be my home for life. I may move lots of times or I may stay still, but for now, this is home and after all the moving base “home” from this muggy, harsh weather.

Home is more of a feeling then it is a place, however, I have done more “adulting” in the last four years here than I have since I was 18 years old. I am an early thirty-something going on eighty.

I do not agree that adulting is hard because it is mandatory for growth, but I do agree that the learning curve is difficult.

We are the future and NOW generation that has another generation growing up as fast as each workday is complete.

We cannot sit back and be in a coma and write t-shirts or use hashtags like #adultingishard or #thestruggleisreal when we need to learn how to deal with the hardships so that we can teach our children and the younger generation how to adapt their adaptations when life sends them curveballs or tidal waves.

Sober Adulting.

I live soberly by choice, but if you stop by, coffee, water or tea is offered kindly.

There are plenty of arguments about the stimulation of these products, except for water, and I personally don’t feel a change in my personality enough to say that I am addicted or that it morphs me into feeling better about myself, to me it is just a beverage that brings joy.

Speaking of coffee, allow me to go brew some.

The aroma of coffee brings me contentedness and the taste of good teas bring my body to an unexplainable rest, so it is essential that I confirm I am not addicted just blessed to enjoy these experiences.

The past couple of months I have been grieving a lost loved one, celebrating new life, loving on the family left behind, dealing with doctors that have no clue where my symptoms are from or how to fix them.

I have had diagnosis’ that have left me speechless and bewildered. Processing is hard when the stroke has literally left its ugly scars and I am often forgetful unintentionally along with a santa clause list of symptoms that leave me breathless, sleepy and awake.

Then when my friends call I realize I am not the only one left frustrated and irritable by trying to process the thing we call life.

I know to take things to the Lord in prayer and He assists me daily. He is my strength and my comfort and the reason why I am sober.

Choosing to be sober because of my faith, allows the wound to hurt deeply but let’s me know I’m not alone and getting gentle reminders that He is near comforts me in the chaos and the silence during the growing pains. The growth allows wisdom to enter into the phantom existence of the ghostly past of my life and health.

A dear friend of mine told me recently to gently wade the waters before leaping into anything, the problem is, I am a leaper.

I leap with faith, dance with joy and laugh when it hurts but this time I am slowly AGAIN, piecing together and writing the stages of life as it unfolds.

All is quiet as I set the kettle on the stove ( I use a pour over coffee system), I hear no dogs barking, no more birds chirping, no traffic, all is calm as can be in my little neighborhood and for some reason, it calms me to know that not everyone is awake in my little sphere and that my writing will go out and let someone in the world know that yes, adulting is a learning curve but we must learn to adapt with it for tomorrow will come and the next generation may want orange juice instead of tea and spiced mulberry instead of Columbian brewed coffee, but the problems will remain the same and we must be there soberly, with wisdom to help.

Let there be growth!

Xo,

Melissa Marie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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