More of these beautiful autumn days and Londres is looking mighty fine in its fall finery. Drove through the park on my usual long-cut to work, listening to the radio and stopping at the Sainsbury’s at the end of the High Street to buy a couple of pretzels and my usual tipple: Gorgeous Greens by Innocent. The large, version of course – some things don’t change, right? 750ml of apple, pear, kale and something called baobab. A bottle of wine’s worth of good stuff instead of a box’s worth (i.e. three bottles…!) of really bad stuff and I’m not just referring to the poor quality of the wine. This feels good. Habits really aren’t all that hard to break, at worst it’s a little strange to begin with – like changing jobs and taking a left out of the train station after being used to taking a right – and stopping drinking was of course mostly down to changing my thinking, not so much to do with my habits. Changing how we think is NOT easy but so totally worth it. Well, if it means escaping destructive behaviours anyway!
Again, as I have so often over the past few months, I sit here and my legs and backside are sore from the gym and running. Those box jumps are a killer. That’s really good pain! It’s pain that tells me that my body has worked and is getting stronger. Gets those endorphins going too so I end up feeling like superwoman. Not like the pain of a hangover when you feel like you’re 100 years old, sick as a dog and going through severe depression. Fuck me, it’s good to be alive, no?
As the title of this post should highlight, as always when it just states the number of days I’ve been sober, I have very little to add today. I feel good and I am happy. There is nothing really that is pushing its way into my thoughts, today is just another day of living but then again that in itself is bloody awesome. I don’t know what I did a year ago today, but I can almost promise you that I was battling a hangover and had to use all my strength to just get through the day. Or maybe it was one of those rare days when I didn’t? Impossible to say, but chances are it was the former. The majority of my days I spent wrecked. It’s only been eight months so of course I remember those days well, and I do make a conscious effort to keep those memories fresh in my mind. It seems impossible that I’d ever forget how bad it got, but you never know – my alcoholic brain has played crazier tricks on me than that, lemme tell ya.
Today I’m not going to drink.