I woke up early this morning, 4am. The animals were awake–and loud! haha so I guess I had to be too. I walked to the ATM, it still trips me out how money works from place to place. Dollar to Ringet to Rupia. I walked fast to make it down to the morning market. Busy, busy, busy and somewhat sketchy in the health department. Vendors want you to haggle and I suck at it. “For good luck!” they say, when I can’t give them a number. I’ll learn eventually.

The more I walked around in the early morning hours, the more awake I realized I was. How naturally aware I was, in the present, absorbing the energy, the smells, the sights. It was a lot to take in. It made me think about my life choices and the ones to make. It has been 80 days since I made a life changing decision to leave everything behind. Little by little, I’ve learned lessons. Some took hard, painful situations to finally make me realize what I needed to do. I’ve learned to trust my gut and have confidence in my abilities. I thought I knew this, I thought I had this, but I wasn’t really tested until now. I’ve always had the same habits, too comfortable and afraid of change. I didn’t know what it would look like, you know, something different. I like to say I used to drink a lot, in some ways that’s very true, but I hide behind that to excuse when I binge. I kept telling myself that at least it’s not this bad everyday, but what good is that when those days lead nowhere. In reality, they set me back. So the reason I didn’t have a lot to share about my stay in Oahu, was because I nearly lost my entire future. I blame my drinking and carelessness. I had misplaced my backpack with everything in it, my wallet, identification papers/copies, laptop, camera, clothes, etc. For those of you who don’t know, I got rid of everything, and I mean everything, in 10 days I left everything and everyone I knew. I left California for Maui with a backpack and a desperate need to heal. So to say I was emotional when I lost my backpack, is an understatement. I couldn’t even check into my hostel because I had nothing. I was forced to wander the streets literally barefoot and fucking freezing. I looked in trashcans and dumpsters everywhere, hoping to find anything of mine. My credit card was used and that was the best thing that could’ve happened. Eventually the cops called me back around 6am, only hours before I had to take off for Bali. They had found the guy who had used my card. The guy had all of my things, short the bag and clothes. I couldn’t stop crying with relief. I promised the guy I wouldn’t press charges if he showed me where the rest of my things were. Eventually, we found the banyan tree where he had stashed my stuff. Even though I was emotionally and physically exhausted, I couldn’t stop crying. It was mother nature’s humor, giving me a fucking huge life check, telling me: “Go on this trip, you need it, but don’t you dare think you can keep doing the same thing”. 

Proud to say I haven’t had a drink since the 15th (Day 77).

I have this lingering habit/idea that drinking will somehow fix/hide what I’m feeling. In some ways, I’m immature like that. I’m afraid to recognize a lot of feelings that I’ve held onto because facing them would make me realize that a lot of things need to change, many of which I have always known. Failed mother-daughter relationship, being number one. Yeah, that ship’s sailed. I was always standing at the pier, waiting to walk away. Teased here and there by the hope that someone would wave back, but fuck, I’ve finally turned away from the feeling that I am somehow responsible for someone else’s happiness. People make their own beds. Fuck me, if I’m going to sink, waiting on someone’s empty recognition.

It’s easy to let go, especially after the millionth time I’ve told myself. I feel like this time I have to stick to it. This time it’s different. I made this huge giant effort to change my situations, to grow, to be the best that I can be. I can’t do any of that drinking. I have to handle my stresses differently. I have to.