I shifted this morning. Felt it happen. I think it’s my third one in the last three years. This one I recognized immediately. The first one I had to look for but I found it. I just wasn’t sober yet at the time so it sat there for a bit before I realized it came and went. Wait, no not went because the whole meaning of these shifts, the whole fucking entirety is these shifts come to stay home and roost with me. The shift in the middle was my first year of sobriety under my belt. I felt that shift. I embraced it and it’s also the time that I acknowledged the first shift.

What the fuck are you talking about Chad?

Let me explain

Shifts for me are what I describe as leveling up in my mental health and life. You can use any metaphor you want it’s fun. If you’re into role playing my wizard went from gray robe to white robe, got a degree in Chad’s mental health awareness, added an extra plate to my mental bench press or went from bush to triple A.

My mental health moves up the healthy chain. Like a great big clock with a hand moving ever so closer to high noon. Three years ish ago I was around 11:01am on a clock that only has one hour on the ticker. Shifting means putting some putting some lifelong shitty things behind me, making a lifestyle change that has become permanent without the effort it used to take. Feels like you took off some ankle weights that have been around your legs for years and years.

I am a student to my mental health. Once I parted ways with my company I found more free time than I knew how to handle. Over these past three plus years my primary goal was to address my diminishing mental health. It was my thesis. Like anything else I get into I treated this the same way. I needed to become obsessed with it. Emotional outbursts were journaled, fights with people I love, my disposition, anxieties, drinking were addressed one by one. I had no idea as to how to fix or repair it the only thing I could do at the time was to write down and simply acknowledge it. Abridged insert “today I stomped on a pizza box half full of charcuterie because I forgot to order goat cheese” “acknowledge your outbursts, don’t act upon them”

I’ve known all along what my triggers are, vices but when you’re in perpetual motion you don’t take time to fix it. Or the effort.

My first shift was when I turned 50. I felt it coming but had no idea what it would entail. My mind was trying to prepare me for it. The closer I inched towards that half 50 my mentality started to push small thoughts into my head. For some reason I gravitate towards the number 5 and its denominations always have without thinking about it. Easy example, my wife and I were married on 5/15/10. Didn’t do it on purpose the show played out that way. I’m a firm believer that your body and mind speak to you if you listen. Up until the last few years I kept it on mute.

As I edged towards the big 50 all I kept hearing in my subconscious was

“it’s time for change”

“this is a good cornerstone”

“reinvention”

“let’s do better”

And sure as shit when I hit 50 I shifted. I climbed a mountain and had a come to Jesus moment with myself. There were no chills running down my spine, no hallelujah chorus or bright shining light from heaven. My head and I had a conversation all the way up and all the way down. We didn’t make one damn decision that day all I did was listen. And then I had a chat in my head for three months about throwing away my favorite toy- vodka.

That was my first shift. My first level up from the mental mess I had become. Also as I refer to as my reckoning

My second shift was a cool breeze. It was actually a shift from my heart. It smacked me in my face. All it took was my kid’s post on IG celebrating her dad’s first year of sobriety. I read it while we all were having lunch at a little sports pub in Asheville, abruptly left the table and cried in the restroom.

For a full calendar year I had dedicated my life to fixing myself for my family and goddamnit it was working. It was fucking working. I knew it and they knew it. I was still backpedaling from my perceived failures at Southern. I felt it leave. Almost like dropping a heavy shield. I sat back down and looked at my family and smiled. This is my family. I have them back where they should’ve been the whole time. My brain took a screenshot of that moment and now it’s been home screen on my soul ever since. There are no words that can describe what it feels like for your heart to come back home.

My third shift was also easy. It was a simple acceptance as I was sitting on my sofa with my headphones on and I’ll admit that I was crying at the time. I cry a lot honestly. I went a long way with no time to cry. I recommend it. It’s like an organic oil change.

After throwing off a 500lb weighted blanket of emotion I’d been carrying around of my father’s passing my mind started talking to me again.

“Good things have been happening to me”

“Am I being rewarded for doing better?”

It’s like a tiny new door opening inside your mind.

Awareness. New kind for me. It’s a little surreal for me and I leave my faith and pov about religion to myself because that’s how I go about my spiritual business and it is intimate to me. To put it bluntly I always believed your rewarded for good things and deeds but I never saw the reward. Always seemed to miss the mark. It’s dumb to focus on the reward. Its right under your nose.

My reckoning was my reward. The follow though. Not that shit of wishing my business doubled in size, bigger home, better roof top tent or golden brick mailbox post.

I’ve been rewarded with balance

I’ve been rewarded with love and peace of mind which is something I’ve been seeking since I left my childhood home in Belle Mead.

I shifted and this time I was fully present to feel it.

It’s fucking emotional. I was off all day yesterday and I dipped out to cry half a dozen times.

Tears of fucking gratitude

Listen

Listen to your body, your mind, your biology.

If I’m going to influence anything anyone let it be this

Sobriety is the magic wand, it’s the fucking potion to happiness.

I’ll never go back. This is just too fucking good.

Cheers

My emotions spike easily. I realize everyone gets emotional I’m not special in any way. The thing is for me is mine don’t come down like they used to. They’re like mental glitter. I hold onto things I shouldn’t and while others have brushed the things off I’m just getting started. They stew in me. My brain is a fucking crock pot for stewing toxic emotions. Usually the only thing it might cause is a little pettiness or a small outburst. If they sit long enough I explode. Rarely are their witnesses because over the years I’ve mastered handling it behind closed doors. I won’t go into details about my tantrums but they can get bad. Really bad. Almost childish and when they are done I feel like someone kicked the shit out of me. My body aches, my head feels like it’s going to explode. It’s almost like going into shock. If you video’d me during these you wouldn’t recognize me because I don’t even recognize myself. It’s not a “I see red” shit. I see everything. I feel everything. No one has ever witnessed these although my wife has been on the other side of the door to a few. My wife is actually the best person on this planet at keeping me from these. I won’t say she shields me but she has a remarkable ability to see it on the horizon and she calms me down. For instance I had a small episode from just reading comments in a negative Masters of Air feed last night. I felt the show was being misrepresented and spoke my mind in the only way I know how. Had some words with the moderator to the point that I wanted to google his address and talk to him personally. As comically as that may sound there was nothing funny about it because I was as serious as serious can be.