80 Days
I’m 80 days sober today. I spent it landscaping a few different lawns in Logan Circle and NoMa. 80 days isn’t a significant milestone for any reason but today was the first time I allowed myself to feel pride — or something resembling pride — for going to detox and checking into rehab and getting treatment.
I’m surrounded by good people who care about me and my well-being and I’m lucky to know them and nearly every single one of them has told me at some point in the last 80 days that they’re “proud” of me. It’s like nails on a chalkboard every time I hear it. A lot of addicts, particularly those in early recovery, will tell you the same thing. We associate so much shame and loathing with our addiction and everything we did to fuel it and just keep it going for as long as we could. There was nothing “brave” about me hiding bottles of vodka and getting so fucked up I could barely feel anything every night. There’s nothing about what I was 80 days ago that I’m proud of. What should be different now?
But today, in spite of myself, late morning, when the sun briefly broke through the clouds, I let myself feel it. It came out of nowhere. I propped my rake against the fence and gave myself 30 seconds to feel it. Ok. I had a major problem I hid from everybody for a very long time. I thought I was smarter than it and I wasn’t so I did the right thing and came clean to the people I care about and got professional help. And I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in 80 days. It’s ok to be proud of that. I gave myself 30 seconds and felt the sun on my face and I felt proud of myself for going to rehab and trying to be better, and then I got back to work.
I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to hurt myself. 80 days, 90 days, 100 days, 200 days. I can keep it all in front of me in manageable increments. Maybe at 90 days I’ll give myself 60 seconds. Maybe at 100 days I’ll give myself a whole day. I’ll spend a sunny afternoon biking through Rock Creek Park. I’ll bike under Taft Bridge and take a minute. Two minutes. I’ll try to feel as much of it as I can. Then I’ll get back to work.