As of this month, it's been a solid three years since I’ve had a drink — and I’m still surprised when I say that out loud. Not because I didn’t think I could do it. Because for a long time, I never really gave myself the chance to try. Recovery didn’t come wrapped in confetti. It didn’t show up with balloons. At first, it was just a decision. Then another one and another one, and then life started showing me those little victories, and I celebrate every single one of them. Before I got sober, I used to celebrate my victories by popping bottles. That behavior got me stuck in a cycle of waking up every day not handling my responsibilities, spiraling deeper into depression, and numbing myself with alcohol. I wasn’t happy. I kept shooting myself |
|
