I got a new job. I�ll be doing the kind of work I want, for the first time. It�ll be great, I guess. I suppose everything is falling into place for me. Another way to look at it is that everything�s changing so fast and can�t it just wait a minute because I�m not sure and I need to think.

I�ve heard of substance abuse treatment programs that encourage clients to change as much as possible about their lives in an effort to break their old habits. I can see how that would work, but change also provides opportunities for regression. My new co-workers won�t know that I don�t drink. I could join them at happy hour and have a few beers and no one would lift an eyebrow. That certainly sounds easier than broaching the sobriety topic with people I�ve just met and I'm anxious to impress.

I had this same opportunity -- or should I call it a danger? -- with my new roommates. Before I briefed them on my drinking history, they would not have found anything strange about seeing me drink. Maybe that�s why I was so anxious to get that conversation out of the way.

So new situations and new people provide a chance for me to remake myself in a variety of directions. Partly for that reason, but also because new things might just not work out, change is risky. Even as I�m forcing myself into taking risks on a new home and a new job, I find myself yearning for the safe, the comfortable and the familiar.

Really, it�s silly for me to whine about how I�m scared of risk. I�ve spent the last ten years drinking myself unconscious and stuffing drugs into every orifice (okay, not my ears). I was so willing to take those risks without even a second thought, yet now I�m questioning myself about leaving a job I know I�ve outgrown. I�ve got to turn and face the strange. But it seems like suddenly everything�s the strange.

prev // next