Utter Imperfection

I’m very writer-y, but not always very talker-y. When I write, I tip myself upside down, shaking my thoughts loose from the nooks and crannies they’ve wedged into. I empty my brain’s pockets of all the angst I’ve stuffed deep inside. Then I begin to slowly work through the jumbled pile, organizing and editing as I go. In sifting through the debris on the page, keeping what makes good sense while letting the rest go, I end up with a neatly packaged bundle of words finally fit for consumption.

But when I talk, especially when I’m ill-prepared, I’ve been known to stutter. I ramble on and on and on and on and on and on. I become unnecessarily repetitive in an effort to get my point across. The right words to fully express what I’m thinking often elude me.

Thus when I tried to succinctly verbalize to my girlfriends why I stopped drinking, what I revealed wasn’t my entire cold, hard truth. I told them as much of my truthberg as I was able to in the moment. Then I wrote the rest.

I’m hanging out on a new platform—The Temper. And I’d be honored if you read the rest of my story about putting the bottle down by clicking here. I’d be thrilled if any part of it helps you through any part of your own.