17 Letters

Let me tell you something: it feels fucking awesome to take action. Being in recovery, as far as I’m concerned, means I’m recovering the person I am meant to be. That person is not the lethargic super lush who could barely string a sentence together that I used to be, but this person who is here now – Sober Me, or rather…. just ME.

Two days away from being able to say ONE YEAR SOBER I’m not just talking about all the things I will do: tomorrow or starting next Monday or next month or next year, and not if or when. Let’s go, bitches! Carpe the goddamn diem! Now, today, in this moment. And so I did carpe the diem, and why not on a sunny and bright Monday such as this? New beginnings are upon me and I’m not just sitting here waiting for life to happen to me. A year ago, the Beast whispered to me “you’re not strong enough to withstand the storm“. I believed it. Not in a million years did I believe that I’d be where I am now, almost at that milestone I never thought I’d reach.

Today I’m telling the Beast: I AM THE STORM and you’d better believe it, you motherfucker.

I thought it’d be scary, but I was smiling to myself as I was walking down the high street this morning. With me I had 17 envelopes containing my CV and a cover letter. 17 because that’s how many envelopes I had at home, by the way. I went into 17 places – cafes, a charity shop, a bookstore, clothes stores, a health store and a florist – handing in those envelopes marked for the attention of the manager. My cover letter starts with the words “I am starting over!” and briefly explains I am turning a leaf and looking to become an addiction counsellor and whilst volunteering and studying within this field I’m looking for whatever hours and shifts they may be able to give me. I haven’t done this since I was a student and I think part of me thought it’d feel a bit ridiculous and like a bit of a defeat but it felt GOOD. It felt good taking charge of my situation and take action in order to get back out on the pitch. No more warming the bench up for the star players whilst they go get it. Time to join the game, I’ve warmed up and stretched and I’m ready to go.

Sure, I’m a little scared having to leapt off the edge without really knowing where I’ll land but although I don’t know whether I’ll land in hot water or on dry land, I know that Sober Me will land on her feet.

Let’s go grab this beautiful, awesome life by the collar and start up some exciting shit damnit!

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Today I’m not going to drink.

13 thoughts on “17 Letters

  1. I’m hoping that you land in the bookshop or the florist! The latter sounds especially emblematic of your present life…you have re-bloomed. Playing with flowers would be the perfect thing, it seems to me, to balance the likely sobering (no pun intended, truly) task of dealing with addicts.

    Liked by 2 people

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