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| 60 days! It's my birthday, throw a party! |
But, I'll tell you something: I am fiercely proud of these 60 days. Because these 60 days have been JUST RIGHT and JUST AS THEY SHOULD BE. That isn't to say they've been easy, or even pleasant. 60 heartbreaking days separated from my children. 60 days of floundering and fear. Working the 12 Steps. Looking in the mirror and meeting myself for the first time in a very, very long time. 60 days of getting real with myself and with all of my wrongs. Dropping the monstrous pride. Discovering my Higher Power. Learning (and then, finally) enjoying to pray. Smiling more. Actually being nice. At some point saying you're happy you're clean and sober, and finally not be lying through gritted teeth. Getting real in therapy and doing some hardcore ugly crying. Finally embracing the ugly crying, because, let's be honest, it feels so damn good. Building friendships. Rebuilding your relationship with the love of your life.
Connecting with other addicts and alcoholics who have done reprehensible things, but loving them and learning from them because they love and accept you in all of your reprehensible-ness, too. Thanking God for putting these beautiful, hilarious, silly, conquering women in my life who have become my new heroes, and my new best friends. (But, um, confesh: not like I had ANY friends in my addiction...)
60 days free from alcohol: cunning, baffling, powerful.
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| Alcohol, you're the worst |
60 days of sorrow, absolutely.
60 days of forgiving and making amends.
Of fear, and finally, finally, FAITH.
Just 60 days. 2 months. Such a short time. Negligible, really.
BUT.
60 days toward the rest of my life. And THAT ain't negligible.
So you see, 60 days has felt like forever, because I have done so much living - so much more than I have done in a very, very long time. The living has been chaotic, hard as hell, messy and imperfect but MINE - and LIVING this life, not merely inhabiting it, like I did in my addiction. I was a passive spectator, watching with glazed eyes and a hard heart and a jaded soul I refused to even turn on all of the life and vitality and beauty and heart break and wonder pass right before me, day after day after day. Alcohol. Oh, it is cunning, baffling, powerful. Also sucky.
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I am clean and I am sober. I am messy. I am sort of all over the place. I am still trying to find my place and my role in my new sober forever. I am a little lost. But I'm here. Present. Trying. Honest. Sincere.
60 proud days and a whole lotta more to come, figuring out how to stay dopeless, but still dope as hell. (I'm so punny - for real, I worked on that one for awhile...)
I know there is suffering. You are. I am. This world is wearying. Please know that peace and power and brave bad-assery can be yours. Start today. Stop being a spectator in your life, and become the star. It is yours, waiting, and you will be so great. I know it. C'mon. Day one, right now, toward the rest of this incredibly imperfect and beautiful and maddening forever that is so, so worth it. Let's do this together: living, messing up, getting back up, doing better, supporting, carrying, rejoicing. I'm here. And I will wait for you to stand up and start living, with me. Please, I need you. We need each other. We can't do this alone. And may God bless you, and keep you, until we see each other, whether we are 60 minutes clean or 60 days clean or 60 years clean. It can be mine, and yours, and it can be for forever.
And that makes me so very, very glad.
