Easter 2015 marked 90 of sobriety for me, which is rather remarkable. Three solid months of no alcohol. I feel a celebration coming on!
A woman in a meeting the other day discussed a particular milestone she and her husband reached, and they both responded by saying, “Hey, we should have some drinks to celebrate!” While I understand the ingrained thinking patterns that can lead people with years of sobriety to consider a bad decision, I was never a celebratory drinker…unless you consider, “Hey, it’s Tuesday afternoon, might as well have some vodka,” a celebration. In that case, I celebrated all the damn time.
Yesterday being Easter, I spent most of the day with my wife’s extended family, so there wouldn’t have been an occasion to drink even if I’d wanted to (though I could have found a way). I was around a lot of people, which normally sets my stress-meter to overload, but I did fairly well. I focused on my breathing—without sounding like I was in labor—and I removed myself for a few minutes when I needed to. Of course, no one noticed or really cared. That mess has always been in my head, anyway. It took a little more effort to engage people in conversation, and most of that spent waiting for a chance to escape, but at least I made the effort. I doubt I’ll ever become the life of any party, but that’s perfectly fine. There’s room for introverts, extroverts, and ambiverts in the world (perverts should just mind their own business, at least at Easter family gatherings).
That’s all from the sober front. As you were, people.