“My best stories, aren’t always my best experiences.”
August 28th. Auuuuuugust twenty-eight.
Well, here goes nothing.
Four years ago to this date, I found myself on a downward spiral, entering a dark pit of self-destruction. It all lit up, about the time when I was eighteen years old and only took me 6 months, to follow in my fathers footsteps and become a first-class, full-blown, raging, alcoholic with a equally terrorising eating disorder. Long story short within a year or two, I was on a path which was at the edge of killing me. Substance abuse and anorexia nervosa was the main curse, but wasn’t limited to those factors solely.
It took me from 2010 and until 2013 to find my way out of this haze again. In retrospect, it may not seem like a particularly long time, but it was a long time to be living in hell. My doctor told me that I had 6 months left to live, until my liver would give out. My situation had officially turned from bad, to a matter of life and death. Of cause at the time I didn’t take these predictions particularly personal. My addictions all seemed like a screwed yet functional escape plan, was all else to fail. I didn’t have a death-wish, but neither did I have a life-wish.
It’s a very long story.
It’s a story that brings me here today. August 28, 2017. Today with 4 fucking years of sobriety on my backbone. 4 years.
No shit sensei, it makes me sentimental.
Since August 2013 everything has changed. It’s cliché to point out that I am not the person that I used to be. Yet it would be difficult for me to find a truer cliché to be told.
When I look back and consider the path that I’ve had to walk, sometimes crawl because of my inability to stand on my feet, I still don’t regret what I’ve had to encounter. A lot of things have happened in the process of bringing me to the place where I am today.
Which takes me to the sole point of this scribbling. My sobriety is the grounding for every right decision that I have made in the past 4 years. There has been missteps and fuck-ups. That’s life darling. Yet, this day sober is the precursor for everything that has gone right in my life. It would be correct to assume that it is, hands down, also the most important factor in my life. That hasn’t changed. And it won’t.
I am not perfect. My life isn’t perfect. My actions are screwed and, oh so not perfect at times. On the contrary everything is perfect, because there is only one thing that really matters at the end of the day. That is ONE.
One day who adds to another and before you know it I am sitting here:
Four years strong, in a body at my highest, most healthy weight ever. Confident as fuck, with a sobriety that allows me to live, write like a motherfucker and train like an athlete. That is something I won’t ever stop being grateful for.
August 28, 2017.