Today, I’ve got 49 days of sobriety. That’s 7 weeks without alcohol. The longest period I can remember in 10 years.
The math is fuzzy, but here is my estimate of the 5 year before recovery.
- 1825 total days
- 1675 days drunk (often 2x per day)
- 150 days sober (3o per year)
- 8% sober… 92% drunk
In all that time, only one person said, “You might have a problem drinking, maybe.” And she was a meth mule.
92% of the time I was drunk … and I kept my mouth shut about it.
I lied to myself and to everyone else about my addiction. I was ashamed, even terrified that someone might discover my ugly truth. The stigma of alcoholism made it clear.
You’re weak. You’re defective. You’re choice. You deserve what you get.
Nearly everyone says addiction is a disease, but that’s not how they treat us.
The shame of my addiction (and related bad choices) pushed me over the edge. I ran away from my family, like 1700 miles, and landed in a Caribbean ghetto. Except by some miracle, I found a way to fight back. Today my addiction is in remission, and there is real hope that I might live through this mess.
By ever score I’m a loser – except the sober count.
I’ve got $581 in my bank account. I owe $54,624 in credit cards and can’t even pay for my divorce lawyer. I haven’t seen my kids in 74 days. Most of the numbers in my life suck.
But I’m finally in recovery — 49th day of sobriety!
My counter is the only happy math I’ve got right now. It’s the only scoreboard where I’m winning. I’m ok with that, because fighting addiciton is all that matters today.
Then this guy happened…
— Sober Tony (@sobertony) April 2, 2017
My original tweet celebrated my sober count. It earned 15 retweets, 127 likes, and 29 positive replies. Even Mr. Negative apologized and claimed “there was a misunderstood.”
What amazed me is all the recovery friends on Twitter willing to back me up. When they say “good job” it means something. They have been in the addiction trap and now everyday of freedom is worth celebration.
Here’s the deal. People doubted me from day one. I doubted myself from almost every day the first month. People who share my house were not impressed when I said I quit drinking:
You always promise you’re going to change, but it’s always the same. You always break your word.
That was the tough love I needed to face the alcohol withdrawal days.
I don’t have time for humility, I’m not keeping quiet until I prove myself. I’m going to walk into this fight like Muhammad Ali.
I’m going to run my mouth and then fight like hell to back it up.
Self doubt isn’t an option. Keeping quiet isn’t an option.
That’s why I won’t shut up about my days sober.