Today marks my eleventh month sober from alcohol. I haven’t had a drink in three hundred and thirty five days, and in thirty days it will be one full year avoiding the liquor. For me, this is all huge.
Earlier today, through tears, I felt so grateful to be in the place that I am at. In the thralls of my addiction, to make it two days sober would be a miracle. Typically, one night out of a month I would avoid hitting the liquor store and even that was a struggle.
All day, every day I would beat myself up over it all. I became so disgusted by myself and that feeling lingered for years. When I say lingered it was more like a hundred pounds pressing down on my back. The further I got from sobriety, the darker my path became.
I lied to everyone but mostly to the broken eyes staring back at me from the mirror. I let myself down, almost at a minute to minute basis for years. I had changed: 60 pounds extra on my frame and my skin was usually red. I told myself nobody knew but I doubt that was the case at all.
Though I was a high functioning evening drinker, I felt like I functioned similar to a snail. I was bloated, ornery and with no way out. I wasn’t afraid of death for it was at least one way for me to quit.
And then, through the intense trauma of sleep apnea surgery on May 10th, I walked away from the booze like it was the furthest thing from my mind, and it kinda was. A few days turned into a week and a week into a month and the cycle of healing has not ceased to this day.
Looking back, I am repulsed at the concept of ever taking a sip again. It is as far removed from my life as the east is from the west. Don’t get me wrong.. in times of trouble it does cross my mind. The big difference is I know not to entertain it.
If you are struggling with an addiction or know of someone close to you that is, it can be done. There is hope, even in the eleventh hour. I’m walking proof that there is life, and life abundant, after just saying no. And if I can do it, you can too.