One Day At A Time, Every Day, Choosing Me.
People ask me why I chose drugs.
The answer is simple.
Because, at the time, I was weak.
But I think it takes a lot more strength to keep choosing yourself over addiction.
There was a time when the only strength I felt was when I picked up the pipe.
Now, my strength comes from making sure I don't pick it back up.
Not picking up the pipe is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.
And I choose not to—every single day.
I think there's a lot of strength in that alone.
People who choose sobriety are a different kind of strong.
We would rather fight for our recovery, everyday for the rest of our lives..
Then go back to the thing we once loved more then anything.
But in order to recover, you have to stay away from the thing that once tried to kill you.
Even when a part of you misses the misery.
And that's what it takes to be sober and recover.
Every. Single. Day.
Some days I think to myself...
"Should it really be this hard just to live?"
But if every day was easy, then what would the point of living truly be?
I have fought myself through the dark, only to still find darkness in the light.
But every day, I continue to win a battle that I once lost.
I choose to fight. I choose to stay sober.
Even on the days when I think it would be easier to take the easy way out.
I still choose sobriety.
I still choose to fight for a life worth living.
People seem to fear the unknown.
What I fear is going back to something I know all too well.
Your future is what you make of it.
Choosing sobriety is a monumental change.
I know change can be scary.
But choosing a life of the unknown over a life where you already know the outcome is the first step toward a better life.
And I'm proud of you every day for continuing to choose you.
I went out for breakfast with Dallas this morning.
Even though I still catch myself thinking people are looking at me...
Maybe because of the way I look. The way I dress. Or because I'm still constantly scanning every room—just in case.
Some habits don't disappear overnight.
This same time last year, I was living in a shelter and heavily addicted to meth.
I never thought I'd sleep in a bed again that wasn't inside those shelter walls.
And if you had told me that one year later I'd be sober, housed, starting school in September for Mental Health and Addictions, and preparing to give back to people walking the same road I once did...
I would've laughed and told you to put the pipe down—you've smoked too much.
So yes, sometimes I still worry about what people think of me.
But then I remember...
I'm soon to be a two-time published author.
I'm sober.
I'm safe.
I'm present.
And compared to where I was a year ago...
I'd say that's pretty fucking awesome.
There are some people I tell how many days I'm sober...
There are some people I tell how many days I'm sober, but somehow it's never enough.
"One more day."
As if every day before the milestone someone else set for you was easy.
As if it meant nothing.
As if your recovery only counts once it reaches a number that meets their standards.
Ask yourself...
Have they ever had to fight every single day just to choose themselves?
One day sober.
Or one more day sober.
It's. Still. Fucking. Sober.
Don't let anyone make you feel like your recovery isn't enough because it doesn't validate their expectations or their insecurities.
You don't have to impress anyone.
You only have to make it through today.
And if no one has told you yet...
I'm so fucking proud of you.
I expect the same honesty from other people...
I expect the same honesty from other people that I make sure I give to them.
But I haven't exactly been holding up my end of that deal.
Have I been entirely sober these past almost ten months?
I'll be honest with you...
No.
But that doesn't mean I have to start at zero.
It doesn't erase every day I chose myself over my addiction.
It doesn't erase that I went back into the ruin... just to climb back out of it.
And I think that takes a lot of strength in itself.
People in recovery are allowed to have bad days, just like everyone else.
We shouldn't have every day before a relapse treated as if it meant nothing just because we went back to something we once believed was the only thing that could help ease the pain.
I can't say I'm perfect.
That would be a lie.
I can't promise I'll never use again.
That would be a bigger lie.
That would be putting too much faith in myself against something that will outsmart me...
Every.Single.Time.
What I can promise is this:
I'll always keep trying.
I'll always keep showing up.
I'll always be present.
I won't lose myself again.
I can't.
And the only way we recover is out loud.
Accountability is an important part of recovery.
I take accountability for letting my life get away from me.
For not trying harder to get help for myself.
For thinking that I could still be myself when all I wanted to do was die.
For thinking that something that was killing me could love me just the same.
I take accountability for being scared.
For believing that a world could fully understand me...
When I didn't even fully understand myself.
I take accountability by continuing to show up, day in and day out, proving that I am not the person I was once.
I take accountability by choosing myself over the drug...
Every. Single. Time.
I take accountability by choosing sobriety.
What can you take accountability for?
One day, at a time. Every day, choosing me.
#WeRecoverOutloud #addictionrecovery