In 9 days I will be 9 years sober. I could just wait until then to post, but I like the symmetry and also know myself and that I may lose heart and decide not to post at all.
I don’t remember June 21, 2011 too well anymore. I remember more about it than any other June 21 before or since. It was an unremarkable day except that I decided not to drink and managed not to, even though it was physically and mentally very hard.
It wasn’t all luck. It was work to commit every single day, some harder than others, not to drink anymore. Fear was an excellent motivator. Early on I heard that it doesn’t get any easier to quit the second or seventeenth time around. After losing and regaining the same 15 pounds for the last few years, I know that is true.
Doing something for nine years seems almost as natural as breathing. And yet I literally haven’t been able to break another bad habit for nine consecutive years. There is something about the simplicity of knowing I will not drink today that makes it the easiest hard thing I’ve ever done.
It definitely gets easier to maintain over the years. Temptation and self-pity around not drinking don’t beckon monthly or even quarterly like they used to. I did have one moment a few months back. We were about a month into quarantine and I’d spent an emotionally draining day with my grandmother. When I got home, I said to my husband you know, she makes me wish I still drank. It didn’t feel good to say. I felt like a petulant, pathetic kid who says you’re not my friend anymore to her best friend in the world. But after I said it out loud, I knew I didn’t mean it. These periodic urges to drink are a good thing because they bring me back.
So in nine days I will wake up and may not immediately remember the significance of the day because I am absent minded and it has become almost as natural as breathing. With a little luck I’ll be back in a year to celebrate a decade.