One of the worst jobs I ever had was working as a bank teller. I had to be on the front lines of a not-so-great corporation and deal with adult temper tantrums on a daily basis. For an optimist with anxiety, it was emotionally draining work, to say the least.
As I approach three months of sobriety, I think back on what has felt like a lifetime. It’s weird because three months isn’t that long, but my life has changed so drastically since I gave up drinking, I feel like I’m living a totally different life. My life.
This past week I celebrated two months of sobriety. How did I celebrate, you ask? I went to the club.
Alcohol? What alcohol? It hasn’t crossed my mind all week.
Disclaimer: I am aware the situation outlined in this article is not unique to one gender or sexuality. However, it is written by, and from the perspective of, a straight woman. Feel free to change pronouns as you read to suit your situation.
I was offered an opportunity this week. I could have a drink and no one would ever have to know about it, or I could stay true to myself and my readers.
Pardon my language, but this week was total bullshit. Sure, it started on a good note. I finally got my first tattoo. I did quite a bit of writing for the blog. But somewhere along the way everything just fell apart.