Total Fatty

The last few months (AKA, this summer) have been a ginormous roller-coaster ride.

I lost my job at the SF startup (I think you all know this). I took time out to think and write and explore creative pursuits (AKA, hobbies outside of Facebook scanning). I’ve actually made – with my own hands – rings and paintings and dresses and skirts. I’ve joined a choir.

And, after searching for four years, my husband and I found the most perfect house ever. But the bank said that I couldn’t buy it because I wasn’t full-time employed. So I asked the CEO of the company where I was consulting part-time to write me an offer letter, just so I could get loan financing. And that magically turned into a wonderful real job offer. And a wonderful, beautiful, perfect house, where I am sitting at this very moment.

We also moved somewhere in there. That was exhausting and horrible.

And I turned 45 as a 2 1/3 years sober person.

So I’ve been really busy, but also REALLY excited and happy and hopped up on “new life” adrenaline. Haven’t had time to post anything here, of course. But I’ve managed to find time to plaster photos of the new house all over Instagram.

I work from home, and my new home office (yay! my own home office!!) is also a guest bedroom with our older tempurpedic bed in it. And a gravity blanket that my husband bought me for my birthday. So I’ve taken to getting up from my desk and lying on the bed to release my laptop shoulder tension and, once, to nap during work hours. It’s heaven.

I can’t imagine that any of this would be happening without sobriety. I don’t know how it’s connected, I really don’t, but I know it is. Deep down, in my bones, I know that being alert, well rested and generally adaptable has paid off in ways that will never be fully revealed to me. Which is sad, because I want to give it due credit. But I know, and if you are sober, you know it too.

I’ll say this, I don’t think I ever would have had the guts to ask the CEO of a company for a ‘pretend’ offer letter just so I could buy a house that I wanted. I would have been too afraid. That’s a nice thing about being sober – a lot less fear.

Without all that early sobriety time becoming addicted to real estate porn (TV shows and Redfin alerts), I never would have found this rainbow-motherfucking-unicorn house.

Without sobriety and healing from diet culture and body hatred I never would have had all the money saved up that I did (it would have all been spent on wine and gym memberships and meal plans and clothing I’d obsessively buy and never wear in all my attempts to make up for my fundamental fatness and ugliness).

So I guess recovery, for me, has just made EVERYTHING better.

Love,

Fatty