Sometimes I feel like my sobriety is viewed like a cancer by my friends who are normal, and can drink normally. Like they don't know how to act around me, and that I'm more serious than I used to be. 

What I want in this next year of my life is to be as fun, or more fun, than I was when I had alcohol to help my personality. It's more work now, but I feel like I can little-by-little get excited to be alive.

The dreams are scary enough, and my new life is happy enough to keep me whole. 

  

Today's silver lining:

The Dog Didn't Die at the End.

give me my ordinary name

I try to write when I feel sunny.

Some one called me sunny the other day, and I wanted to take that back to the one who called me a dark and stormy person and say--but sometimes I think she was right. I am sunny and I am stormy and I am gonna keep getting through that.

Hiked 10 miles in Big Cottonwood this weekend over Saturday and Sunday and I wanted to bottle up the clean air and take it back to Salt Lake and use it as a balloon to pull me up and over my troubles on Monday morning, but it can't do that. But I do keep fighting. Fighting the unrequited love, fighting the wage gap, fighting the stupid decision to end our daylight at 5 PM. Wrestling with God and for God.