Sober lesbian dating
I certainly don’t underestimate how wildly uncomfortable transitions like this can feel, either.When I stopped smoking cigs at age 25, I spent a full year so miserable I figured I was better off dying young, then giving up my beloved Marlboro Lights.I’m a seasoned lez who might as well have an honorary master’s degree in “Making Mistakes” from Harvard University. And I believe that all the things that have happened to me along the way, happened precisely so I could help stop you, my sweet kitten, from making the same colossal mistakes that took up way too much space in my life for waaaaay too long. Maybe I can prevent you from hitting that pesky iceberg that’s looming ahead in the foggy distance! Either way, you’re under my lesbian big sis wing now, so at least know that you’re like, totally loved. Even if we think we don’t deserve it (which we totally f*cking do). I’m having a really big problem right now and could use your help.I’ve screwed up more times than I care to count on all ten of my HOT PINK polish adorned fingernails. I’ve recently given up drinking alcohol and doing drugs (coke) because what started out as innocent fun, started to take a dark turn.See my ex and I had been partying heavily together for the past six years, and last year it started to take a toll on me.We were always fighting, and I was always depressed.
The beautiful thing about thoughts is you can change them at any time. Change “I can’t flirt without drinking” to “I’m a goddamn amazing flirt when I’m sober.” It’s amazing how your life eventually mirrors your thoughts.
My mouth feels dry like someone has stuffed cotton balls inside of it. I’m always relieved and amazed to find out, I can get through the call without dying or fainting.
I’ve never physically been harmed by my phone anxiety.
When I put an end to my habit of drowning myself in half a bottle of wine every single night at 28, I thought I would never be able to clean my apartment again. I had been power-cleaning my apartment buzzed, sweeping the floors with a cold glass of vino pressed between my thumb and forefinger for half a decade.
I didn’t think I could get through the painfully mundane task of washing the dishes, sober. My apartment turned into a slime pit for two months and then one day, I started fucking cleaning again, baby.