In which I ponder why this isn't just another temporary relapse into sobriety...

I was trying to figure out why this time around feels so different to me. Gawd knows, this ain't my first time at the sober rodeo. But this is the longest I've ever managed to stay on that bucking bronco, and this doesn't feel like just another of my temporary relapses into sobriety. 

I have a few theories:

First, I've actually written down (and stuck to) a plan for when my resolve starts turning wobbly. I never did that before because it seemed kinda hokey, like I'm in the remedial class of "Sobriety 101." But it actually works. More than once I've found myself with too much time on my hands (dangerous territory for me), literally pacing the floor and wondering what normal people do in this situation. This will sound stupid, but there are times when I have to literally refer to my plan before I realize: Oh. It says here I should eat something. 

Second, this is the first time (outside of my stint in rehab a few years ago) that I've faithfully stayed on medication that makes it impossible to drink alcohol. There's a lot of stigma and misinformation surrounding Antabuse, and I'll tackle that in a later post, but I've found it very effective in shutting down the inner dialogue about whether or not I'll drink today. If I literally can't drink, temptation becomes a moot point. I was resistant to taking it in rehab, but I've since realized that the Antabuse is my friend.

But lastly, I had an insight last night about why this go-round feels so different: This is the first time I have blown the doors off the closet and been completely honest with the entire world about what I'm going through. I've always kept it to close friends and family, discretion being the better part of blah, blah, blah. 

The fact is, I never wanted to share it broadly because I was afraid of what people would think, what they'd say, how they'd react. I didn't want to go down in their estimation. 

Welp, call it maturity or call it just not giving a damn anymore, but somewhere along the way I stopped worrying about what other people think of me. It's been a little scary to start this shitty blog and invite everyone along on this journey, but it has also been strangely empowering. 

I didn't start this blog just to present my same old facade to the world, or to say all the right things, or go through the expected dance steps. I realize now that I started this blog so that I wouldn't be trying (yet again) to sober up in the "drunk closet." It takes too much energy to pretend I'm perfect, and I don't have the energy to waste right now. 

In other words, this blog -- and you, Dear Reader -- have become an important part of my ongoing effort to stay sober. So, y'know, thanks for that.