Twelve Years

Getting sober was the start. Staying sober is the work. Living sober is the reward.

Twelve years ago today I woke up hungover for the last time.

I’m scratching my head as to what to write next. I’ve told my story so many times I get sick of hearing it. And I pride myself in sobriety being a part of my story, not the story itself. I mean, I should be dead. I likely would be dead. At a minimum I would be divorced and alienated from all the people who love me.

So yeah, getting sober was pretty fucking important.

But so is what I have done with that sobriety, right? I don’t mean the heavy lifting that is required - getting and staying sober is work, boys and girls.

What I mean is, getting sober gave me my life back and I think I would like to talk about just what tf I have done with that life that’s been gifted back to me.

Since getting sober I have fucked up royally. Yeah, it turns out getting sober is not enough to keep one from behaving badly. So there’s that.

I’ve also handled my fuck ups like a man. Instead of blaming the booze, or projecting, or doing literally any…