90 Days

I have 90 days of sobriety today. Something happened in the last five months towards the end of my relapse up to the first 90 days of my newly regained sobriety. My defects of character stemming from fear have been greatly reduced. I am doing a miraculously better job of living in the present one day at a time.

All of my life, I was burdened with the neurotic sense of malaise best described as waiting for the other shoe to drop. My teen years were extreme emotional chaos living with an raging alcoholic mother after my younger sister older brother committed suicide when I was 15. Even after years of 12-step recovery, I never felt completely emotionally safe and secure. Today that sense of intangible dread is 99% gone.

My sense of proportion or what is rational is horribly askew. For example, yesterday was payday. Several times that were especially bizarre at meetings earlier this week, the insane addict in my mind tried to convince me that smoking crack, becoming homeless and then suicidal is an functional compared with going to meetings and staying sober. From a rational basis, I know that is seriously defective thinking. From an emotional basis, the difference between using and staying sober is like meh.

Developing at least somewhat similar rational and emotional perspectives is a problem in getting right-sized that I won’t solve today. I will pray, meditate and go to a meeting today—just like I do every other day.

I am grateful for 90 days, my willingness and for the shortcomings that have been removed by my higher power.