Four Years

On my fourth year of sober, my buddy gave to me a tail pulling monnnkey.

monkey-pulls-dog-tail

I’m sorry if I got a Christmas song stuck in your head. Welcome to my world! I love the monkey in this clip. I relate to the dog. I want to borrow a monkey like this, but only for about a week so I can remember (and maybe buy it shoes and ice cream cones). I had a mischievous monkey for a long time and it never occurred to me that I could give it back, though it had long ago ceased being fun.

It has been 1,464 days since my last drink. I still remember June 2011 like it was yesterday or a decade ago. I still remember sitting in a hard folding chair and listening to a put-together woman talk about how sober life was better than anything she could have imagined. It wasn’t just her clothes or makeup that convinced, but maybe more the steady calm she radiated. I knew she couldn’t have it all figured out, but this didn’t seem to bother her.

This is my secret to happiness: learning to love what I already have. And I don’t just mean the warm and fuzzy, hallmark moments where I cross the finish line in personal best but also the high hilly part where a startled skunk waddles across the road. If I’d told myself that four years ago, my monkey and me might have picked up a folding chair and started swinging. The thought of it makes me smile.

Thank you to everyone who still reads and for your kind words over the years. I am eternally grateful for sobriety and the beautiful community that helped me and so many others get there. And if you’re starting out and struggling? Hang in there. The view is totally worth it.

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