Like many rock fans, I’ve liked Audioslave’s song “Doesn’t Remind Me” since it came out in 2005. The lyrics didn’t fully resonate with me until I heard it again last fall – AKA one year sober. In the song, Chris Cornell sings about finding pleasure in mundane activities to avoid thinking about the heavier things in life. I can definitely relate. For me, a life of sobriety means being tuned into reality more than I’ve ever been before – and it sucks sometimes.
Its just one of those days
Where you don’t want to wake up
Everything is fucked
You don’t really know why
But you want to justify
Rippin’ someone’s head off
All of the little things that can go wrong on a Monday have gone wrong. That frustration has been tossed into a blender along with my weekly existential crisis, PMS, and being caught in rain with no umbrella on the packed streets of Chelsea. Strangers keep bumping into me while I hustle through 6th Ave. My headphones are blaring Limp Bizkit’s “Break Stuff”, my go-to song when I’m filled with rage and feel like I’m going to explode. I wish I had the balls to cry in public like other people do. Of all days to forget my sunglasses at home…I could totally go for a cry behind my Ray Bans right about now.
Before I stopped drinking, I lived each moment like it was my last because #YOLO. The YOLO (You Only Live Once) mentality can be defined in many ways. Drake defined it as get laid, get stoned, get money.
In my party girl
decade years, I defined it as “You might die next month…be as ridiculous as possible NOW!” Don’t waste your time or money on going to see a doctor. Book that vacation with your last $500. Snort that line off of the public toilet so you can get even higher. Take a shot of Jack Daniels, so you can tell him how you really feel about him.
Sunday, November 29th – My friends and I were at Fanelli’s, our favorite dimly lit pub in SoHo. Our table was full of Stella, Blue Moon, and frustration. We talked about how we’re “too busy” and how we “don’t have enough time to get things done”. After a few too many pints, I looked at my phone and realized that we had spent four hours in that pub. FOUR HOURS. On the walk towards my train, I began making a mental list of things I can cut out of my life in order to be more efficient with my time. I can spend less time networking. I could cut back on my workouts. I can write less. Though I was aware of how I just spent four hours in a bar, drinking less alcohol never even crossed my mind.
On June 13, 2015, I moved to New York City with one goal: become a writer for Rolling Stone magazine. This was a dream I had ever since I was a kid. Growing up, I would read Rolling Stone and see rock stars living the coolest lives I’d ever seen. I wanted to meet them and tell their story. I visualized the moment when Guns n Roses would reunite and Rolling Stone would assign me the cover story in the same way that William followed Stillwater in Almost Famous.
I read articles by Hunter S. Thompson, Cameron Crowe, David Fricke, and Pete Travers. I treated this like my homework. Actually, I treated this with more respect than my homework. Continue reading “The Power of Letting Go”