My drinking got so bad. To the point where I was consumed by it 24/7, in one way or another. I was drinking heavily and waking up hung-over almost every… single… day. My average work day was long, dreadful, and just awful. The only time I really ended up sober were the few hours in between my healing hang-over and before I started drinking again to try to feel better. Can I even consider that being sober? Probably not in that fog. I most definitely was not thinking clearly during those times. If I was lucky, I’d occasionally take an entire day booze-free on random weeks. Those were days where my mind, body and spirit were screaming at me. Begging for a break from alcohol, where I had no choice but to listen, I didn’t have the energy to fight. When I talk about this fight, it saddens me. I remember so vividly how I knew deep down that I was hurting myself so badly; my body and my brain. I would argue with myself and talk myself into drinking on so many occasions, even though I felt my entire being just wanted to collapse at the thought of alcohol. These rare sober nights when I would get a break from alcohol, just broke my heart. I was a total wreck and all I could think about during these hours was how badly I wanted to quit drinking. Kick the damn booze. It was killing me, and I knew it. Most of these sober nights my mind would go wild. Not only would I think of all the ways I was going to change right now, all the things that I would do differently tomorrow – I would also spend the majority of these sober hours looking up ways to quit online. Watching YouTube videos of how people got sober and pumping myself up to be just as brave. Tomorrow never came. Not for years. Decades. It wasn’t until I started imagining and truly feeling, that death might be sunnier than life, that I started to get real about what was happening. What had shot-gunning beers on a Saturday night in my teens turned into? Here I was, almost every day, questioning living. And I was doing it dangerously. I was doing it drunk.

Daily Journal . . .

I was thinking a lot about addiction today. I recently underwent a surgery and then had quite the accident the day after. I ended up getting prescribed some opioids for pain. It feels like it’s been a longer recovery than it has so far, and I’ve got a ways to go, too. But when I first got this medication, I didn’t even realize what it was until they were asking for ID and wanting me to sign a release. Since I’ve become sober, I do research and look into things more than I would have when I was a booze-hound (and remember it, too). I took the medication home, but I refuse to actually take it. After my life experience with cigarettes and alcohol, I’m hell-bent on staying straight-edge. I decided it would take some insane pain before I even think about going down any road where I depend on a substance to get by. Getting by isn’t living. According to merriam-webster.com, to “get by” is to succeed with the least possible effort or accomplishment. And with this, I’m going to flush those pills down the can. Right now.

Looking Ahead . . .

I went for a walk outside today since I’ve been laid up for a bit. It was so refreshing and crunchy outside. It was cold, too. My outside cats are too chubby, but since the weather is changing, I’ll worry about their diet later. Although I’m not ready for what this winter might bring, I’m ready for more change. I feel an ever flowing charge inside of me since I quit drinking. A sort of confirmation that things are seriously going to be OK. I still face life challenges like any other human, but sobriety brings comfort to my chaos. I have the clear mind to work through it like never before. It’s been 632 days since I let alcohol control me. I pray daily that it never does again, and that I get to keep the strength and wisdom to hold it this way.