For the past three years whenever January 2nd rolls around, I have to double and triple check the date. Just to make sure it’s actually happening. But after seeing the date on my computer – 1/2/2012 I realize it’s truly January 2nd and I couldn’t be more excited. Because today, I am celebrating three years of continuous sobriety!!!
I’m not sure if 3 is the magic number but I do know that as third child who was born on the 30th, it is recurring number in my life. But I’d sound crazy ( or crazier as the case may be) if I tried to spout off a bunch of numerology mumbjo jumbo, mainly because I don’t know any. What I do know is that for me, the kid who started drinking in 1989 and didn’t stop until 2009, three years is a long ass time without a drink! I always thought “multiple years of sobriety” was something other people could do. Moreover, I wasn’t sure if it was something I wanted to do. I knew that without drinking and without drugs and without some regular chemical or form of escape, I would have to deal with myself. And why in the hell would I want to do that?!?
I spent years carefully curating a life of complete bullshit and delusion and I knew from having sober family members that I would have to tear that all down and “get real”. Blah. Real is unsparkly, unfabulous, and uninteresting. No thanks. So I put it off for a loooooong time. Well the shit hurricane that was my life reached a level five intensity at the end of 2008 and I was forced to face the music which is a fun sounding idiom but is far from fun when you have to do it. Yet it was unavoidable so I did it. I got sober. And lord knows I didn’t always do it right and wouldn’t win some crown for being the most perfect sober person on Earth. But one day at a time, I didn’t drink and I don’t drink. And then before you know it, I haven’t drank in three years.
Alas, I don’t get to graduate from recovery. I don’t get a certificate in the mail that says “Congratulations! You can now drink again.” So three years, three decades, three minutes sober– it’s all amazing. This is a life-long journey. And I’m okay with that.