22 Months of Sobriety, One Day At a Time

I’m 22 months sober today. Woot woot! *confetti*

Top – taken within the past 30 days. Sober, silly, grateful. Bottom left – 2013. Bottom right – 2010. Blacked out in both. Miserable.

I have thoughts. This won’t be very structured writing, I’m letting it flow freely and disjointedly.

First thought is, do you have any idea how terrifying it is to share this so publicly? Anybody can google my full name and find this blog. That’s commitment.

Although I have been writing about this for months now, posting my blackout drunk photos is a whole other story. I kind of feel like vomiting every time I share something this deeply personal. I’m sure there’s a joke there about vomiting while drunk, but I’m too lazy to make it.

There’s a fine line between oversharing and being vulnerable, and honestly, this often feels like dangerously flirting with the line.

The only thing that helps me post this is the deep-down knowledge that I am not looking for approval with a post like this. I’m posting this in hopes that if anybody out there is suffering in silence, you will see and know that you aren’t alone. These posts are for the silent sufferers.

Although I can’t save anybody, that’s God’s specialty, I can tell my story and hope that it speaks to the right person at the right time, somewhere. That’s all.

At some point, I had to want something better for myself more than I wanted to keep running away from myself.

Sobriety is hard, but so is active addiction. Active addiction only prolongs the pain that you’re going to go through anyway. True sober living isn’t white-knuckling it all the time. That’s miserable, nobody wants to live like that.

When I find myself acting like a “dry drunk“, I get to more meetings. I pick up my Big Book. I start writing, listing out my resentments, stresses, etc, and giving them to God one by one.

Sometimes it takes me weeks of misery before I finally do this, but at some point, I have to do it, or I will drink again. This is a life or death situation, and I am terrified of relapsing. Not terrified in that I think I will, but I have a healthy fear of it. That fear keeps me in the program, and keeps me working on my sobriety.

I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to live a half-life either. I want to live a meaningful, fulfilling life, and I can’t do that if I’m always obsessing about alcohol. If I relapse, I definitely can’t do it.

I’ve been struggling with resentment, anxiety, and anger lately, so I spent some time on the floor of my closet. I cried out to God, and He answered my prayer for today. He listens. He loves.

Real talk: I’m not sure that I would make it back if I relapsed.

God would have to bring me back kicking and screaming, if I was so blessed to be allowed to come back. I don’t even entertain the thought. You see, I am an all-or-nothing kind of person (most addicts are), and I am all in to sobriety.

For what it’s worth, balance and being gentle with yourself is preferable to perfectionism and extremes, but right now I’m not talking about what’s best. I’m talking about what’s real (for me), in this moment. I’m a work in progress, you know.

I don’t think about my entire life though, if I can help it. I think about today. Today, I won’t drink. Tomorrow stays in tomorrow, but today, I’m sober, and that’s all that matters.

Today, I ran 2.5 miles with my husband, caught up on some client projects, and cooked a pot roast. Not in that order. The reverse order, actually. You get the idea. It was an average day, and that’s pretty awesome.

That’s all, folks.

Related reading: Why I Quit Drinking