Living one-day-at-a-time was a foreign concept to a person who regretted the past and was hopeless about the future. Celebrated 22 years sober on June 19th after arriving into recovery at 23. Surreal. I remember standing outside the sober living home after 45 days sober thinking, “I am so screwed.” Disowned, bridges burned, wreckage everywhere, and hopeless. I thought about my father, a man who lived in his car his senior year in school who enlisted in the military and persevered. It was time for me to pull myself up by the bootstraps and drive on. My mantra was a quote from my father, “adapt, improvise, and overcome”, which enabled me to put one foot in front of the other.
I picked up my chip today at the home group, stood up, and announced turning twenty-two years sober. Craziness. Could not imagine living past the age of 30, let alone picking up a coin at 45 years old. My friend gifted me a plaque with my coin and funny coffee mug. The prayer, St Frances of Assisi, is a prayer I’ve meditated on and added to my wedding vows. It means so much to me. Loving the coffee mug!
