I remember taking my last drink 3 years ago on April 29.
What started as a good night turned into a disaster as one glass of whiskey became round 2. And I remember feeling super chatty after the second glass, wanting to stay in Hope Church's Pub Theology longer, and then realizing I had to get into my social work class. I was 15 minutes late.
During class, I remember a few of my classmates asking if I was okay (I wasn't), oversharing, and ending the night depressed and wanting to throw up, but I couldn't. I called myself a fraud. Called myself a failure. Said I didn't belong in school. And I was sobbing hard.
I woke up on April 30th and I thought I could just go back to 1-2 drinks a week, but it was clear I had to quit. I went to bed without a drink that night and have been intentionally practicing sobriety ever since.
Around 5 AM, I started crying because I'm loved and supported by awesome people. I'm crying because I'm grateful for life as it is, not as I want it to be. I'm crying because all the previous iterations of me are looking at me and are so proud of me. I'm crying because even when "times are (censored), but I'm pretty sure they can't get worse... sunny Santa Fe would be nice," I can do this.
"I can't control
My destiny
I trust my soul
My only goal is just to be
There's only now
There's only here
Give into love, or live in fear
No other path, no other way
No day but today!"