Today is year 5 of continuous sobriety for me.
This year has been a year of harvesting.
Harvesting is known to be the most labor-intensive activity in the growing season on smaller farms and man do I relate to this.
Covid threw us all for a loop but I can’t minimize the impact this pandemic had on our community.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
From continuing my journey in trauma therapy, rebuilding a life I lost to an abusive relationship, intensive healing work with my sponsor, all the way to losing too many friends - the road to year 5 has been a direct result of the labor put into harvesting the good fruits.
The amount of people in our community that lost their way during this season of isolation is astonishing.
Whenever I hear another tragic story, I can’t help but ask myself “Why me? Why do I get to experience sobriety and some of the people I love the most die trying?”
I don’t have the answers - I’m left perplexed, angry, sad, and absolutely overwhelmed with survivor’s guilt.
However, I am also positive that my redemption story involves a lot of heartaches, pains, and failures, but it also includes so much grace, acceptance, hope, faith, and the grit to continue doing the things I know I should do time and time again.
6 years ago, I was the mom that couldn’t stay sober. I was at the mercy of Child Protective Services, required to submit random hair follicle tests, getting high in the parking lot, and walking in totally delusional and convinced I would pass.
I experienced deaths, legal consequences, the frothy emotional appeals from my family. I lost friends to the hands of my own self-destruction. I put my drugs before anything and everything. I was the scared little girl that would bulldoze through anyone or anything that stood in the way of my next fix. I am - by definition - the alcoholic of the hopeless variety.
But then grace entered my story…
Some way, somehow, the gift of desperation plagued my very being and I was willing to do whatever it took to get sober and stay sober.
Slowly but surely I got sober, one day at a time. Those days turned into months and the months into years.
I faced the wreckage of my past. I became willing to let God direct the show. I was able to disregard others entirely as I gutted myself open to looking at how I set the ball rolling - in every situation. I made amends to the people I hurt and I continue to do so on a daily basis.
I have tenaciously worked to dismantle age-old narratives and toxic patterns of behavior. I have an insatiable thirst to grow spiritually each and every time I am walking through pain.
I became less selfish and dove headfirst into helping other women. I am accountable today. I have people in my life that trust me and can count on me to show up. I have women in my life that I can call at any point and time and our relationships are reciprocal.
I have fallen on my face more times than I can count, but I haven’t reverted back to the darkness that beckons my call.
My kids are my whole world. They have a mom they would’ve never had if it weren’t for the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous and God himself. I painfully, but gratefully walked out of 3 years of unimaginable betrayal, abuse, and destruction - only to have a better understanding of myself and more grace for every person I encounter.
I’m not here to talk about how great I am - in fact, the contrary.
Every single day I have accumulated on this sober journey has been graced to me by God and all of the beautiful people in my life today. I am nothing without all of you.
In lieu of this unimaginable season, I am more grateful than I ever have been to have another year sober. I cannot count on two hands how many people didn’t make it out of Covid alive and each and every single one of them is why I will share my experience from the rooftops again and again.
If I can get sober and stay sober, anyone can.
Another trip around the sun without the incomprehensible demoralization and enslavement to a disease that almost killed me.
God is good and I am just so grateful.
If you haven’t made it to the other side yet, hope is not lost. You are not alone, walk forward into the grace laid at your feet. You are worth it. Reach out and don’t give up - you are so loved.
Cheers to 5 years.
I’m very proud of you… this battle is never-ending and can pop up anytime, anywhere. Stay true and stay strong. ❤️