It's Been 90

It’s been 90

It’s been 90 days of sobriety today. I really didn’t know what I would write or want to say about my 90 days. Until I sat down. Then I realized what I had accomplished. Since the age of 22 I have never gone 90 days without a hangover, new regrets, and shame. To date, that is 21 years of all those things at least once every 90 days. More honestly, all those things at least once a month, then once a week, then every damn day. Sometimes it was all three, hangover, new regrets, and shame as soon as I opened my eyes.

Everyone who has drank to the point or near to the point of blacking out knows that feeling in the morning. Regaining consciousness, head hurting so much you are afraid to open your eyes. Wondering if you will be sick. Head swimming and light. Exhausted from staying up too late and not recovering from the small amount of drunken sleep you got. Keeping your eyes closed evaluating the day and what you absolutely have to do and what you can get away with skipping just to survive. Stumbling to the bathroom and thinking to yourself, “well, that’s not healthy” as the toxic urine is released. Thinking about coffee and water and whatever food will be accepted by your body.

Somewhere in that process lies in wait, the worst part. It crashes down like a one ton cannon ball into your psyche sending shards of regret, embarrassment, shame, and fear piercing your awareness like a hot scalpel through soft skin. The fragments of memories flooding your mind as you try to put the pieces together while the shame and regret builds and one of the biggest sighs you have ever experienced rocks your broken body.

There’s loads of versions of this scenario. An extraordinary amount of people have thousands of versions. The version you read might be extreme compared to your versions. It might be shocking but it might not be. Somewhere in there you nodded to yourself and thought of your version.

My versions were repeated over and over and over for years. Every night I would stand and convince myself that tomorrow would be different. This was the last time. I wouldn’t drink too much tonight, only enough to sleep. I will stay responsible this week. I’ll wait for the weekend to drink heavily. I won’t take any booze with me to their house. I won’t have a drink so I don’t embarrass myself or my wife and friends. I would stand in the mirror and curse and scream silently at myself that this was f’ing IT! LAST TIME!

The calendar would flip to the next day and my consciousness would bloom behind closed eyes to one of the versions and combinations that were mine. The combination of pieces would click into place like puzzle pieces. One then the other, then the other, until my version of the scenario was complete and the day would start the cycle again. The ticking of the clock on the wall would begin to count down the seconds until the next morning another version of the combination would be born again.

Today is day 90. Today is 90 consecutive days my consciousness has eased into my waking mind and my day started completely free of a new version of hangover, regret, embarrassment, shame, or fear. 90 days free of that one ton cannon ball crashing into my psyche. 90 days free of the piercing shards and 90 days free of the sighs that rocked my broken body for so damn long.

Today is 90 days of sobriety. Earned by working hard, being completely honest with myself, not holding anything back, building relationships, leaning on those around me, serving others regardless of my own desires, and most importantly because of the grace, strength and help of God.

And with that, I will take another 24