I haven’t drunk for 1,008 days. That’s 1,452,035 minutes. I feel amazing about my achievement.
Sorry, felt. I felt terrific. And then I drank.
I was in a good place, both mentally and physically, to have a couple of beers. You know, relive old times, relax, let loose, have fun — all those BS drinking cliches.
As the liquid touched my lips, I could feel the significance of those 1000 days slipping away- The importance of the number representing everything I’d achieved over the past three years. It was a moment of anticipation and disappointment.
I drank. I broke my streak.
One thousand and eight days reset to zero.
I drank, yes. Do I regret it? No, not at all.
In the time it took me to drink two beers, I learnt an awful lot. It was as if a floodgate of wisdom opened up, offering invaluable lessons that will forever shape my perspective on sobriety, addiction, tough decisions and personal growth.
Amid the excitement of the moment, something unexpected happened. As the familiar taste of alcohol touched my tongue, I realised I no longer enjoyed it. I’ve experienced this before, so I decided to finish that beer and crack on with another.
Realisation
The comforting allure of alcohol was gone.
It was a pleasant surprise, a revelation that underscored how much I had changed during those days of sobriety.
How could something that once had such a firm grip on my choices and actions suddenly lose its appeal?
The answer, it seemed, lay in the transformation within me.
The taste of alcohol, once a source of pleasure, had been replaced by the joy of waking up with a clear mind, the satisfaction of achieving my goals, and the fulfilment of living an authentic life. The scales had tipped, and I now saw alcohol for what it truly was — a fleeting escape that masked deeper issues.
Sobriety had not only given me clarity but had also reshaped my preferences.
As I sipped those two beers, I realised my journey, wasn’t just about abstaining from alcohol. It was about reclaiming control over my life and embracing the fragility of my humanity. This minor slip up was not a failure but a reminder that growth is not linear. It is a series of experiences that mould, challenge, and ultimately lead us to a more profound understanding of ourselves.
Ultimately, the taste of alcohol served as a bittersweet reminder of my past, a past I had overcome with determination and resilience. The lessons I garnered during that brief lapse in sobriety were worth their weight in gold. They reinforced my commitment to authenticity, self-discovery, and growth.
So, as I move forward from that momentary slip, I do so with gratitude.
Gratitude for the clarity that comes with sobriety, gratitude for the lessons that materialised from breaking my streak, and above all, gratitude for the transformation that allowed me to stand before that toxic, unfamiliar taste and say, “I no longer enjoy this.”
In the end, it’s not just about the sober days that count. It’s about the profound changes within us, guiding us toward a more prosperous, more meaningful existence.
Sobriety isn’t a chain of successes. It is a journey of ups and downs, mistakes and regrets. Just know that the journey doesn’t stop if you drink again. It can, and will always continue if you wish it to