Because I had to change. The alcoholic compliant shrug-it-off self could not go on in the same way. Something had shifted and the shift was irrevocable.
Everyone was glad to hear that I was sober and had stopped drinking. But not everyone liked me sober. And not everyone liked the changes.
I didn’t set out to change. I didn’t want to venture into economic insecurity. I didn’t think I was ready for a new relationship. I wasn’t sure I wanted my body to come to life in such a troubling way, I wasn’t ready for the emotional tsunmi of early sobriety.
But here I am. It is painful and at times I fel very frightened. Scared of some recurrence of the abuse I suffered as a child. Afraid of the consequences of taking too many risks.
But the changes are bringing me to life and I cannot deny that. I plant up the garden, cook, write, dream, connect. Right now I am waiting to hear news from the country of my childhood, wondering if Zimbabwe might finally be free of the old crocodile Mugabe. Looking at an image of the Pungwe River in flood, upstream in Nyanga. The political change to come might not be an unmixed blessing. But change is necessary and sometimes conflict is the point of growth.