“Once I was seven years old …”
“Once I was seven years old my momma told me/
Go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely/
Once I was seven years old”
—Lukas Graham
That song, of course, has nothing to do with alcoholism. Yet that opening line fits perfectly today (May 21, 2015), and every day, since I acknowledged that my disease would kill me through it’s soul-sucking, fear-driven, isolating pathology. That was May 21, 2009.
I am so grateful to be here and do so sober, clear-minded and able to, no matter the obstacle, have a fighting chance at dealing with life without burying my head in the sand.
At times I wasn’t sure I would stay sober in the several months of 2015-2016 that I will count among some of the worst in my life. I wasn’t sure I would make it to today, my seventh “birthday.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
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