Hola Sober August

One Year On by Liz G.

The words of my Dad piped up and would not be silenced anymore. And that was it, I thought, I can not fight against it, I cannot modify it but I can stop it. With this realization that I could just stop, that it was me who was in the driving seat, that I was the one in control, that I could reclaim my rightful place which was most definitely not in the corner cowering because of a recent episode, I stopped. The next link in the chain and coming at a time when most needed was meeting Susan. I met her in October as I was about to leave for Ireland, at a time when I was thinking I had this thing beat and maybe I could share some wine with my sisters when I got home. Susan urged me to keep going and it was she who counted the days for me. I didn’t know the importance of the weight those days carried. It was Susan who would meet up with me when I needed someone to talk to. In short, Susan made it easy for me not to drink and she rejoiced in all my little triumphs along the way. How the universe contrives to look after you when you decide to look after yourself. Nowadays it is me who shows up and It is me who makes the decisions. I have been to dinner parties, weddings, and get-togethers with people I barely know. I have had family occasions, communion, and Christmas with my in-laws. I have had a car stolen, relationship struggles, and financial worries, working full time, all while raising children but not raising an alcoholic glass to my lips. I have found that none of it is boring, and none of it is just filling in time. And so, friends I leave you with this, a part of my story and the idea that your grass can be as green and lush as you make it or it can be yellow and dehydrated as you leave it lying neglected in the burning sun. Your grass can be always thirsty, always waiting and wanting and needing tending or it can be tended to regularly, looked after patiently and in time you can reap the benefits it has to offer you. As I write this now my son is playing happily with his friends and I look up at him from time to time and gaze at him pausing to be grateful for him, thankful that I can enjoy him and not see him as a nuisance while I get on with the important business of inebriating myself however it is disguised. Not only do I have green pastures, but I have butterflies dancing above them.

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