Each year on my birthday I’d blow out my candles and wish for love. The universe has a funny way of making wishes come true because seven months later I entered alcohol addiction recovery and started to fall in the deepest and greatest love of all, the love with my own self. You see, prior to sobriety I was drinking daily. I didn’t know how to sit at a table and simply drink a glass of orange juice, it always had to have something in it like vodka, make it a double too. Back then I was an expensive date, now I’m a very cheap one.
Alcohol addiction recovery has been a roller coaster ride over the past 8 months. Yes, 8 months without a single drop of alcohol. I can’t say my recovery has been easy, more often I have “off” days than “on” but as a sobriety devotee, alcoholics anonymous and all, I understand that it’s all part of the process. I am constantly googling what to expect in sobriety and if what I am experiencing is normal, reinforcing the fact that I am finally on the right path in my life, at 30 years of age.
“I miss partying, the drugs, the drinking. I miss it all.” I said. So much so, I’ve been tempted to get a script for adderall just to be able to focus on everything else except this grief, the death of my old self. But that only defeats the purpose of this new journey.