Today is my “other” birthday. On 9 July 1994, I had my last drink. So this day 23 years ago, I began the adventure that is sobriety.

This day is fairly new, it’s about 1:20 AM. Each year, brought something new: divorce, death of my mother,  remarriage, becoming Catholic , death of my father, then my elder brother, my surgeries, my retirement, and now losing the weight I regained since I lost about 50 pounds in 2006. There were other milestones I passed.

I guess what I’m most grateful for is the compassion I’ve developed for other people. I’ve learned to put my opinions aside.  Being a drunk means I am the scum of the Earth to some people. Recovery, to the cynics, is merely the time between drinks, and binges, and all out sustained drunkenness.   I learned that I am NOT what other people think of me, good or ill. Neither are you.

As in “real” birthdays, there are parties and presents and attention. And I am still an Attention Whore of the first order. But life is good. 

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