Two years ago today I woke up on a couch somewhere in fucking Mississippi, dazed & confused, to some chick bashing her own head in due to heroin withdrawals. Today I get to wake up, often just as dazed & confused - and occasionally bashing my head in as fervently as the junkie I had the pleasure of sharing a living room couch with that first night in detox - but for reasons I am more grateful for than anything in the world.
The problems I have the privilege to grow & grovel through, rather than depend on inanimate substances to temporarily alleviate my head from, is one of the most precious skills I have attained in the past 730 days.
The husk I was then is in no comparison to the being I have developed into today. I am not stagnant anymore - I refuse to be. The river of my spirit flows through me & has just barely begun to develop its current.
To my sponsors, present & past, thank you. To my friends & family, thank you. To my eskimo who exposed me to sobriety, thank you. Universe, thank you.
There are times when living life is not easy, but most things worth experiencing rarely are.
P.S. This photo epitomizes the major themes of my addiction: drug dealer boyfriend, cats, agoraphobia, eating little to nothing, adult swim, & dabs.
Cats & adult swim are still pretty relevant. Amen.