I have been sober, by my own choice, for three years now.
January is a real bastard. I never realized how bad my seasonal affective disorder was. It's not the cold, as I prefer the feeling of cold to the feeling of heat. It's the darkness. More than a few days, I crawled back into bed during the day, pulled up the covers, and slept. Not so much a depression. More avoidance.
I still have the impulse urges, reminders of my old ways which sudden upon me like a flash of lightning. Last week, as I was driving my son to sports, I drove past a liquor store and thought, "I can stop by there a lit..."
I shake my head. No, I'm not aching for a drink. I'm not parked in a liquor store parking lot asking for the justification to stay in my car. I really do not want to drink again. I'm not sure where those old habits lurk in my head, but I'm quick to push them back to wherever they came from.
I can say, without a doubt, my life is so much better without the alcohol.
I still won't celebrate until I get to 5 years, and even then I'll only do a steak; ribeye, medium rare, with good blue cheese on it.
Until then, Entenmann's Devils Food double chocolate donuts. They are what I have when I'm hankering for something. The craving is not booze, just something. The donuts prevent it from becoming something bad.
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