It's been 0.11 Years 1.38 months, 43 days and 1030 hours since I lost smoked pot. Hell, since I last had even a SIP of alcohol.
Who the fuck am I?
I'm sitting here, alone, at my desk in front of my computer in my office where at least since we moved into this house in October, I sat and got stoned every night. I would sit and watch stupid youtube videos, or peruse Facebook/Google + - I would play Minecraft until a certain time, go smoke again, drink more, and just deprive myself of anything positive until I was so stone, so drunk, or so tired (or all three) and pass out. I would pass out at my computer! Wake up at 3 or 4 am and stumble to bed where I wreaked of weed and alcohol only to be awoken a few hours later by my completely sober children who were/are young, vibrant, energetic and ready to go from the second their eye lids open.
43 days. I haven't done anything for 43 consistent days. Stacey is happier, my kids don't bother me as much - and if they do I can control the emotions . . . let them run their course.
There have been times when emotions arise, and I have to deal with them instead of suppressing them via pot. I've had break downs, blow ups, melt downs and fuck ups - but I've seen them through a clear head. Well...semi clear. I fill like my head is filling up with ideas, emotions, content and a lot of other positive stuff that I've been suppressing for the last 10 years.
I have a sponsor. I've been consistently going to meetings. I'm almost through w/ my first step - admitting I am completely powerless of marijuana and that my life had become completely unmanageable. Hell yeah it was. I feel good about my recovery - but recognize the long road ahead. But one day at a time - right?
I went to a Family Tree meeting where my sponsor's sponsor was there, and a bunch of other sponsors/sponsees were there - just a dozen addicts/guys or so all being honest around a fire. It was surreal and beautiful and inspiring.
I've had run ins with my higher power. I was upset with the girls, I was crying in their closet, wanting to get high, just fucked up and stressed out. My sponsor called me right in that moment and was able to talk to me. Was able to understand what the fuck I was going through - and helped me get out of it. It was my higher power. What timing! I'm on my fucking ass, crying, sobing like I haven't sobbed in years (it's those fucking emotions coming out) and boom - my phone rings. "How ya doin' man?" "Not good... not good at all." After 20 minutes on the phone I felt I could handle the rest of the day and my confidence was back that I at least would not get high that day.
I'm a new man. A better man. A stronger, more confident, smarter, better looking, healthier, productive man. I love it.
I still mourn my vices. I still miss the feeling of being all out drunk and stoned. I'm looking for ways to fill that void - running is one. Yoga will be another when I find the fucking time to get to a class.
But life is good at 43 days. I've met a lot of really cool people who inspire me, challenge me, and that means a lot. I'm looking forward to getting my 60 day chip, my 90 day chip, my 1 year chip, 2 and so on. But just for today - at least the rest of tonight, for the next 55 minutes until midnight when I'll probably go to bed - I won't get high. And that's all that matters right now, in this moment. Life on life's term - one minute at a time.
