I stopped drinking just shy of 20 months ago. The first year was hard. I sought out a therapist 3 years ago, and it took me over a year to decide completely to quit. In the beginning, I would do a dry January or 100 day challenge, proving to myself and my therapist that I could go without booze, only to return to drinking. Discipline is moderately difficult for me, but doable. So going without booze, especially from a competitive standpoint, wasn’t hard for me. It was drinking; drinking was my problem. I was good at it. And once I had one drink, the discipline lever was turned off and stayed off for days, months, and years.

Alcoholism is a spectrum, and if you drink one drink, you’re on it – you are the light drinker; a measure in opposition to a heavy drinker. The alcohol companies spend trillions of dollars convincing you that alcohol is not addictive if used in this type of setting or this way. And to be an alcoholic, you have to hit rock bottom. That’s not true. There is a spectrum of addiction.

Alcohol advertisement is everywhere. Once you start to notice it, you can’t unsee it.

It is hard for me to celebrate that I have come this far. Would a five-year-ago me like a new me? Would an old me be proud that I abstained from drinking, said my piece, and let go of the family? That I set down the briefcase stuffed with generational luggage, I opened it and examined it.
I left behind
what was
obtuse, antiquated
muzzles that stifled my life.
The case was lighter.

Would an old I be happy that I’m 60,000 words into a novel and have ideas for many more? I have two kids, and my dreams have been fulfilled. I wanted this life of family, and I wanted to devote my time and energy to them, and I’m happy I’m here. I wanted to be a writer. And I am.

And when I was there
if I could see here,
I would see the happiness we strive for
and the harmonious balance we hit.