Three Years Of Not Drinking
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Like an idiot, I posted on this blog earlier in the week, so I’m sorry to land in your inbox again so quickly. But today’s my third not-drinking-aversary so I had to write something.
Three years is a long damn time. Change adds up. Given my final pace of consumption before quitting, I have now not drank around 1,000 bottles of whiskey. I apologize if you own stock in Jim Beam’s parent company.
This morning I’m thankful for waking up next to my partner, covered in dogs, with a lot of coffee ready to go; that I get to work all day with the Crunchbase News team from my home office. I’m lucky. I put extra brown sugar in my oatmeal this morning. Life is pretty good, and I intend on reveling in it.
I get to enjoy today because I stopped doing the thing that was killing me (there’s a picture of me in the hospital from three years ago that my big sister took, I’ll post if it I can find it). And even though it was an obvious choice, it wasn’t easy at all. A big thank you to everyone who propped me up and loved me before, during, and after May 24, 2016.
Anyway, AA kiddos would say that this is my third birthday, and that my impending 30th anniversary of being born is something smaller, my “belly button birthday” if I recall the phrase. Fuck all that, really, but it is very good to be alive and reading and writing with you.
If you are struggling with drinking or any other sort of substance, DM me. I’m here to listen. I owe a huge debt to others for helping me, so let me pay off a fraction of it by supporting you.