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Take these broken wings.

Earlier this week I caught some of a fb live Kendra Hennessy was doing. She mentioned having just written down a rabbit hole into unbearable old hurts. Things she forgot but her mind didn’t that she still holds onto 10+ years later that make themselves known in weird random ways. She mentioned how she only gets there with raw and honest journaling. Diving deep.

I immediately pictured this space. How I come here to write and to dig deep into myself in this unadulterated sort of way.

And then I realized I don’t.

I used to write unadulterated rawness in the Bee book. I used to write that way at Jack’s too. But I don’t rabbit hole rawness here. Which means I’m not rabbit hole’ing rawness anywhere, which is probably a huge problem.

Everything I write here is real and valid. It’s hard and life and easy and random. But it’s not the really deep stuff.

I wrote last week about needing to write about the god-sized hole. How that expression sparked something in me. This week I’ve been listening to podcasts about enneagram 2s and more sparked in me.

If I’m not careful, I’m gonna burn it all down.

Coming soon will be lots of trigger warnings. I’m finally ready.

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I knew every back road and every truck stop.

My sponsor assignment for the week is to take five minutes each day to be still. She wants me to have the opportunity to find contact with my high power.

It’s a good plan.

Last week, which I don’t think I mentioned, she wanted me to define unmanageable. As a follow up I’m supposed to think about the things I can’t control that lead life to feeling unmanageable. Because unmanageable and control are linked.

She’s a really good sponsor.

Truth be told? I knew I wanted her my very first meeting. (Maybe second.) She said something that sparked for me and I knew she’d be it for me.

The hard al-anon thing for me is that I have a hard time feeling like I belong there. My story often doesn’t touch or significantly overlap others’ stories. My story sometimes doesn’t feel “enough”. But we are all cut from the same cloth. I still find things there I need, and as they tell me, I apparently provide things they need. It’s never been a question of not continuing to go. I go and that means I grow. Nothing wrong with that.

My sponsor talks about how this sponsor/sponsee relationship is sacred and unconditional. I can share anything, as a safe space. And she will always show up. And part of me just kinda wants to cry. ‘Cause isn’t that, like, every damn thing I’ve ever wanted? But then another part of me is like, “why on earth would you do this without me paying you?”

She talked randomly on Saturday about something called “a god-sized hole”. How people hope that their partner can fill this hole they have, but no one ever can. ‘Cause it’s a god-sized hole. It made a lot of fireworks go off in my head and I have things to say about it. But not tonight. Because I need sleep.

Good night, ever shifting plates buried deep beneath my feet.