drinking and smoking the nights away.

by epi

yo. so… it’s been awhile. a loooong while. and i don’t mean since i last posted. but since i last allowed myself to be honest in writing.  here’s the problem (i think):  i started  blog. i wrote on the blog. i was honest and angsty and angry and joyful and happy and in search of truth in my heart, head, and the world around me. people followed my blog. people commented on my blog. i began to think things through before writing (good thing). i began to self-censor (ehhh). i began to censor without thinking (and aren’t i where i started now).  what’s the point of that?


so… here’s some honesty for ya.  i need a makeover. not physically. i’m hott (and oh.so.narcissistic). just…

i graduated college, got a job, quit my job, went to grad school, went to india, and all of a sudden felt overwhelmed. i’d lost control of my thoughts and dreams and heart. at the time, i blamed panic. i visited a person and was written a prescription, and thought… ah yes, here is happiness. but, i missed the point. the absence of panic attacks because of psychotropic medicine did nothing to cure the problem. (it did help. i’m not sure if i could have understood all of this in my anxiety-ridden and panicked state.)  so i began to pray. and slowly God has revealed some heaaaaavy stuff. i won’t write that here… some things aren’t meant to be shared. but, he did say that i was too quick to turn to additives to heal what only he could. and that my lifestyle was making things worse, not better.  he told me to get it together. he told me i had a choice. Him or… this.


So, together, we began to plan how life would look with him. Off the meds, partying, smoking, even the crappy food i was putting in my body. In with prayer, Bible reading, friends, quiet time, music, etc.  The next day, I woke up and was like… DONE. so i quit everything. but it was too much. i didn’t feel like myself at all.  I thought… maybe I was wrong. And for the last year or two, i’ve been oscillating. give up this… don’t give it up.  Fail. Fail. Fail.  I was just trying to find out where I could still feel like myself, and not a failure, and have Him.

So I went back. We spoke. Then He said the sweetest thing ever:  it’s taken you 8 years to get to this point in your life, why do you think you can undo it in a day? 

Again, aye.

So, I went back. Lit a cigarette and grabbed a beer, and texted an old boyfriend and prayed. I usually don’t share what’s really in my head and heart (too scary), but I can tell you that I prayed and prayed and prayed. All the while a-drinking and a-smoking and a-texting. Eventually, I began to see it: a plan. A way out. A slow withdrawal, a slow renewal.  First, the alkie-hall. But, no. Try again. So, out goes the meds. Then the smokes, but oh-no too much. So then the alkie-hall. (i’m a girl who let herself believe that to be normal was to drink and dance and party. and maybe that’s right. but part of what God has been revealing to me is… i’m not normal. and I no longer desire to be.) So there’s that. 

I won’t go into the process too much. Just, I give myself a month away from each. A month before I move onto the next thing. I’m going to screw up. A whole lot. But it took me 8 years to get partying-with-the-best-of-them down. It’ll take me more, perhaps, to undo it. Except, it really won’t.  Because all I want is Jesus. What’s hard is not removing those things from my life, but finding a way to recreate fun.

That was a long explanation. But I wanted to give a heads up. Because all of my lil poems and notes and angsty blogs… will probably be about this. Trying hard (and failing hard, and letting Him pick me up and set me on my way again) to be what HE wants me to be. Trying to be the kind of person the world looks at and knows… this girl loves God more than herself or the world.

All my life, I’ve only wanted to be normal. To be like everyone else. Now, I’d give my life (I am giving my life) to simply be His.