Good morning, friends,
Today is ten-year anniversary of my first DUI. I was living in Traverse City, MI at the time and was arrested on my way home from work at a winery (Black Star Farms). If I am being honest, I was driving home drunk from work for almost a year. About an hour before close, we would all start drinking and that was normal.
My BAC was .23, which is well over the super drunk legal limit. I don’t remember any of it. The only thing I remember is waking up in a jail cell. My eating disorder was also at its peak. I weighed in under 90lbs at the police station. My parents drove two hours from my hometown and bailed me out. I can’t even wrap my brain around how scared they must’ve been. I can’t even fully remember my own emotions from that day. I have mostly blocked it out. It has always been too painful. I could only cope by disassociating completely.
Last fall, on the anniversary of my second DUI, I wrote this affirmation. I am going to use it today to help survive all of the emotions that come with anniversary days.
Yesterday was the six-year anniversary of my second DUI. Six years ago, I woke up from a drinking blackout in a jail cell to discover I blew a .26 BAC, while driving home from an AA meeting. None of which I remember.
I think it’s safe to say, as Tempest members, we all have cringeworthy, even nausea-inducing drinking memories and anniversaries. Which means, one time each year, I face all of the emotions that accompany the dreaded anniversary day.
I am reminded of that girl from six years ago who couldn’t escape the darkness. While it is painful to reflect back on that season, because Tempest has been pounding radical self-compassion into my brain, I decided to spend the day taking care of myself. And kicked my old friend, shame, to the curb.
I decided to ask that girl from the past what she actually needed. How can I fill this anniversary day with compassion for that girl who was desperately self-medicating six years ago?
Luckily, I had the day off from work, so I cozied up in matching PJs and fuzzy socks with my dog, Teddy. It was a rainy day filled with candles, homemade pumpkin bread, and soup. I washed my bedding, took a long nap, and caught up on The Great British Baking Show.
I wrote a quick love letter to that girl from six years ago. I told her the things I thought she needed to hear back then.
Dear Kelsi - I see you. I am not here to punish you further. You have experienced enough humiliation. I see you and your fear of jail time. I see your fresh breakup wounds. No matter what happens, I am here with you. I will not abandon you. We will do this hand in hand; baby steps all the way. You are not a criminal. You are a human being who deserves proper care. I see you beyond the labels and the lies. I love you.
Six years ago, I was lost in a blackhole of shame. *I wonder what would have happened if my recovery process began with compassion, rather than criminalization.* I wonder what type of world we would live in, if we traded all of this bullshit alcoholic shaming, for compassion.
We all have shame-filled drinking memories and anniversaries, and that’s okay. I choose to look back gently and celebrate anniversaries by giving myself the care I needed back then.
I trade shame for compassion.
Love,
Kelsi (She/her)
There were still parts of 7 year ago Kelsi that were good. At your core you were always kind, caring, and emotionally intelligent. No matter how lost you were. I'm so glad you have learned to have compassion for yourself <3