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.