One Hunny.

Today is day 100 on the sobriety train. I’m at the point where counting has lost it’s excitement but I figured I’d commemorate this day as it feels big. After this I suppose the one year mark will be the next noted time frame, definitely weightier than this day.

I honestly thought the days leading up to this would have been harder. They haven’t been trying really at all. There have been times that I see liquor poured or consumed in a movie and inside I’ll tense up a bit as though my enemy had made an appearance and this is my gut reaction. It’s not a “man, that looks good” or a “I wish I was having one” feeling.

And this kind of baffles me every time because all I ever heard about prior to quitting was how hard it is, sometimes on an hourly basis. So since I’m not dying for a sip does that mean I wasn’t the alcoholic that I always thought I was? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset that I’m not struggling more. I just find it odd is all.

Maybe I’ve been through harder scenarios that have toughened me up above and beyond the needed level for this victory. Surviving my twins paralysis, navigating two divorces, moving around Alberta a dozen times, and dealing with countless hospital visits and hospital stays with the kids defintely develops a backbone.

I am now used to quiet evenings without the drink. I’m used to going to bed sober and I’m used to waking up feeling like I actually slept. I’m used to not running to the liquor store or needing to buy more cigarettes. I am used to not sneaking around in my dark habit and feeling dishonest and disgusted with myself.

I am getting used to liking what I see in the mirror. I am learning to trust the guy looking back at me. I’m starting to branch out in my evening habits to my creative outlets instead of zoning out on the couch. I’m improving each day as I separate myself from harmful endeavours.

Why I didn’t get myself here five years ago I do not know. I guess everything in its time and place.


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