1,678 days

I,678 days ago, I decided to stop drinking alcohol. I was so tired of waking up groggy, tired, fuzzy-headed, dry-mouthed, regretting that I had “done it again.” I would lay in bed, often at 3am and try to run through the events of the night before: how much did I drink? Did I say something that I won’t remember? Did I buy something online on an impulse? Post something on Facebook that seemed really funny at the time? Hurt my husband’s feeling? Act in a way that was out of character? These self talks had been going on for decades. Sometimes the way that I thought about myself was worse than others, never was it positive, never was I proud. Basically, I’d lie there and beat myself up, for my stupidity and lack of control.

Here’s the thing: it wasn’t really me. After 1,678 days, I’ve gotten to know me a little better. I’m kind, funny, creative, smart and fun to be around all on my own. I don’t need to add anything to my personality to make me more fun to be around or likable - I’m already all those things. Alcohol wasn’t the magical elixir that was keeping my life together, manageable, and me socially acceptable, it was the exact opposite.

So, why write this? There were many times that I thought I was, or took an online survey after googling, “Am I an Alcholic?” (in a private browser, of course.) The reason I’m writing this, is because you might be reading it. You might be getting those 3 am wake up calls yourself. Here’s the thing, I think those calls are coming from somewhere deep inside that is pissed off because we know in our hearts that we can do better, we are better. When we start drinking we smother that magical spark that resided in our chest. It is only when the drink wears off, in the dead of night, that our soul wakes up and shakes us and rails and begs us to just not drink tomorrow.