I turned 6 years sober on the 6th. Usually around milestones I get an increased urge to blow my brains out, it is an unusual thing to celebrate a date that correlates with a time of your life where things couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse, and maybe it’s March, maybe it’s the cycle, but some arcane thing in me usually remembers the shame, humiliation and self-hatred that dragged me into sobriety. Definitely before I wanted to, definitely before I was ready, definitely right on time.
There’s also the fear and disbelief that it’s been this long, this is the longest relationship of my life, how have I not fucked it up yet? It doesn’t take the colossal amounts of effort it used to to not think about drinking, but now I have problems in places where there weren’t even places before - am I doing enough? I am secure that today I don’t want to drink, I know the party line that I don’t need to worry about tomorrow, how can I be so certain of something that doesn’t feel sure?
I don’t know anything for certain, and that’s the good part, because it keeps me here. Not out of fear, but necessity - my work is the work I do today. The sobriety I have is the sobriety I act upon today.
This year was slightly different, I was reflective as I usually am, but there was increased gratitude with it. I texted old friends for catch ups, spontaneously told people how important they are to me, and I’ve started dancing when I’m by myself again. That’s usually a symptom that things are well in my world.
My decision to stop drinking is only as important as my continued effort to stay stopped. There are some people at the end of 12 step meetings who say ‘stay’ instead of ‘keep coming back.’ I am one of those people. Stay is one of the most precious words I can hold on my tongue, it is a comfort, an action and a direction. It made me cry the first time I heard it, because it said ‘we’re not going to kick you out, we want you here’ and ‘you came as you were, and that’s ok.’ Most importantly, it told me