This morning, Lawrence and I went to the nooner in Post Falls. Today’s AA daily reflection was titled “A.A. Is Not a Cure-All,” and it stopped me in my tracks. The opening line is from As Bill Sees It: “It would be a product of false pride to claim that A.A. is a cure-all, even for alcoholism.”
That hit home. Because my program isn’t just AA, and it never has been. It’s AA meetings, my sponsor, therapy, my relationship with God, accountability from people who love me, and honestly, the miles I’ve been logging on foot. All of it together. AA is at the center, and I’m grateful for it, but healing has come from a lot of places. I think that’s actually the point of the reflection.
Nine months ago, I didn’t know how to be sober. I didn’t know how to just sit with my emotions without reaching for something to take the edge off. Life is still hard sometimes. I’m still not where I want to be. But I have a clear mind, and to me, that is priceless.
A lot has happened since I wrote my six-month reflection. Back then, running Bloomsday was a bud, a possibility I was just beginning to believe in. In ten days, I’m actually doing it. I would not be able to run the way I have if it weren’t for sobriety. Full stop.
Sobriety has also given me something I didn’t expect: the space to actually process things. Events from twenty-plus years ago. Things that happened just last year. I never took the time before. There is real healing available in sobriety, and I’m only beginning to access it.
I’ve submitted my will to God instead of relying on my own, because left to myself, my instinct is still to reach for something when things get really hard. That hasn’t changed. What has changed is that I have tools now, and people, and I use them.
I’m grateful for my kids, who are my “why” every single day. I’m grateful for Lawrence, who has stuck by me through all of it, pushed me to be a better version of myself, and loves me enough to tell me the truth. Thank you, Law.
And thank you to everyone who has reached out with encouragement along the way. Things aren’t perfect. But I am stronger.
Nine months strong. One day at a time.
