14 Days

14 days. The last time I went 14 days without a drink was 2009, I believe.

Believe it or not, I’m kind of grateful today was so mentally and physically rough. It erased a lot of my smugness and made me remember how scared I was at the start of this.

Things aren’t magically perfect. My body hurts. My head hurts. My brain hurts. But I can’t imagine how I accommodated hangovers for so long now that it’s been a few weeks (exactly 2, as a matter of fact).

Accommodate is a good word. I let other stuff slide because I was hungover. A lot of remorse today. A lot of second guessing myself. A lot of blows to my confidence coming from my own hands.

Mostly, I’m just tired and a bit restless. Circling. And still very headachy. The metaphor of losing my glasses and having to see things differently, a bit painfully even, is not lost on me.

Trying to remain grateful. But a small complaint: why do I feel like I have less time now than I did two weeks ago and prior when I was getting shit faced? Isn’t sobriety supposed to bring endless amounts of time and boredom? That doesn’t seem to be the case for me at the moment.