Wednesday, 5.30.18
8:52pm
36 years old
189 pounds
Denver, CO
I suppose the truest mark of my progress is that to mark the third anniversary of my freedom from alcohol is that I didn't feel compelled to mark the occasion at all. Thinking back on the events of a late May day three years ago fills me with a lot of shame, and a lot of sadness, and a lot of dark thoughts about who I used to be, who I might still become if I'm not careful, what I've put my family through....
It's important to feel those emotions sometimes to their fullest extent for the purpose of growth and because it is what a responsible, emotionally healthy adult should do. It's also important not to live in that space for too long. You have never seen thread unravel so fast as when a former addict starts tugging at the frayed end of their self-confidence. Marking the occasion is important for the purpose of marking progress. I will not argue with that. One thousand and ninety-five days have passed since, and that stretch has included some of the best days of my life. It's just that the counterbalance for patting myself on the back is particularly heavy, and man, it swings back fast and it hits HARD.
So this is my third year without a drink. I do still miss it sometimes, especially now that summer is here. Frosty beer on a summer night is one of the finest things about the human experience. I am still asked whether or not I will drink again, and I still don't know. I have thought of scenarios in which I would take a drink. I just know that for now, abstaining is the right call. I feel it in my gut and I know it in my heart.
I don't forget the lesson of 5.31.15.
I don't forget the feeling in the weeks afterward.
Some things about that day I will not ever forget. And I should not ever forget them.
Cheers to three years. Still a long way to go.
8:52pm
36 years old
189 pounds
Denver, CO
I suppose the truest mark of my progress is that to mark the third anniversary of my freedom from alcohol is that I didn't feel compelled to mark the occasion at all. Thinking back on the events of a late May day three years ago fills me with a lot of shame, and a lot of sadness, and a lot of dark thoughts about who I used to be, who I might still become if I'm not careful, what I've put my family through....
It's important to feel those emotions sometimes to their fullest extent for the purpose of growth and because it is what a responsible, emotionally healthy adult should do. It's also important not to live in that space for too long. You have never seen thread unravel so fast as when a former addict starts tugging at the frayed end of their self-confidence. Marking the occasion is important for the purpose of marking progress. I will not argue with that. One thousand and ninety-five days have passed since, and that stretch has included some of the best days of my life. It's just that the counterbalance for patting myself on the back is particularly heavy, and man, it swings back fast and it hits HARD.
So this is my third year without a drink. I do still miss it sometimes, especially now that summer is here. Frosty beer on a summer night is one of the finest things about the human experience. I am still asked whether or not I will drink again, and I still don't know. I have thought of scenarios in which I would take a drink. I just know that for now, abstaining is the right call. I feel it in my gut and I know it in my heart.
I don't forget the lesson of 5.31.15.
I don't forget the feeling in the weeks afterward.
Some things about that day I will not ever forget. And I should not ever forget them.
Cheers to three years. Still a long way to go.
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