The end of this month will be nine months of full time road life, next month is my birthday, and the day after my birthday marks six months alcohol free.
There is not a day that goes by where I don't miss drinking. I long for it. Sitting in my chair out in the middle of nowhere with my cats and the sky above me in late Winter but it's almost Spring and it has felt like Spring for the past 5 months because this is the desert and oh, wouldn't a glass of wine be lovely. But a glass of wine will turn into two bottles, and two bottles will turn into crippling anxiety, and that crippling anxiety will turn into sneaking a sip of liquor before work because I do not know how to function without that demon on my shoulder. Gnawing away at my body and mind with its beautiful poison that makes the suffering worthwhile. What a gorgeous lie. Waking up miserable and afraid, a cowering little girl, believing the only way out is to drown inside that cruel wishing well. Telling you just one sip will ease the pain. Believing that sip and having another and another until you're on top of the world. And then you're on top of the world screaming and crying before you come tumbling down, breaking your spirit all over again. Pass out. Rinse. Repeat.
There is not a morning that goes by where I do not wake up grateful and relieved that I didn't have a sip the day before. I woke up just before sunrise this morning, as I do on many mornings now. I never did this on the other side. The dark side. I lept out of my van to snap a photo. I felt compelled to capture a shot of the crescent moon signing off for duty before the sun would reach the horizon to take its place. And if you were with me presently, and offered me a drink in one hand (I'll drink anything, of course) and a clear headed morning in the other, (but I can't have both, of course) I will choose the dawn. Every single time.
Even if the sun is only out for a little while. Even if the rest of the day goes sideways. Even if by the end of it I'll pine for a drink. Clash a cup with family. Raise a glass after a big hike. Swallow a pretty potion and giggle with friends. Playing pretend. Until I fall down again.
Because, the soft mornings. They're worth more than any hour of fleeting bliss fools gold can buy.
