My name is Jim, and I’m a recovered alcoholic. I have recovered from a seemingly helpless state of mind. I was, at one time, so depraved, it’s hard to believe I was that guy.
I am a small miracle. Anyone who makes it a year is. I once couldn’t make it 24 hours without a drink or the shakes would start.
The first year was a gift. The next four were hard work. The clouds started to break up at ten years. Our first daughter was born at eleven. Our second was born at 14. The clouds parted at fifteen. At twenty, the clouds dissipated and it was time for the flippin’ sunscreen, baby. The last seven years have been glorious, though with some challenges.
It wasn’t that the years before 20 were bad, far from it. They were challenging, though, through the looking back glass. I was learning how to live a sober, clean life, and sometimes I bumped heads with good orderly direction. Even so, life seemed good enough it was often tough to wrap my head around it.
The easiest way to describe the last couple of decades and change is like this: Each year sober was a new gift. I had no clue how good life would eventually get, so I never felt like I was shortchanged. It just kept getting better. And that’s the idea.
Every year, since 2012 when I wrote the following post, I like to link to it around my anniversary. It is, without question, the best thing I’ve ever written. Please click here and give it a read:
November is a special month for me. I celebrate every single day of the entire month. I celebrate having the ability to have a wife and two fantastic daughters. I celebrate being on the right side of the grass, pumping air. I celebrate being able to love my wife….
[Tap the link to read on]