To celebrate an alcoholic that doesn't drink is like applauding a cowboy with hemroids for not riding his horse. When the darn things hurt enough and he has tried every way possible to ride without pain, he will finally stay off the horse. For me it took alot of pain to finally get sober and stay off the booze and dope.
Today I am celebrating 20 years of continuous sobriety and clean time thanks to a God that made repeated investments when there wasn't much hope of ever getting a return on the investment and the rooms of AA that said "Welcome" and "Keep comin' back"... when the rest of the world was saying, "go away, you arn't welcomed here, please don't return."
When I got here twenty years ago, there was only two places I could go and where I was wanted. Jail and recovery. I mean, honestly, it was so bad that people would turn their lights off and pretend not to be home when I pulled into their driveway! LOL "SHHhhhh, be quiet, its John".
I remember how amazed and excited I was when I picked up my last (not my first) 30 day chip. Man, I strudded across the meeting room, full of pride, amazed, everyone clapping... it was so real, so intense. I thought we'd just continue the party and ya'll would have a parade on the street I lived on. Ya let me down. I went home and thanked God for another day of sobriety and went to sleep. I didn't pass out, I went, with deliberate intent to sleep!
Today I am as excited about getting 20 years as I was about getting 30 days. Absolutely amazed. (We will be amazed before we are half way through). Without a doubt I know in my heart of hearts that if someone of my alcoholic history can get and stay sober, and recover from the mental blank spots (insanity) that alcoholics suffer from, there isn't anyone who can't. There may be many who won't, but there isn't anyone who can't.
For a few weeks now I've been wondering what am I going to do for my 20th anniversary. Well, I finally decided.
I'm going to go to my homegroup, walk up there with dignity, collect my medallion, say a few kind words about "how I did it", which I didn't. I'm powerless, God and AA did for me what I know I could have never done of my own accord, and then I'm going to come home, and go to sleep... thanking God for another day of sobriety.
It's okay if ya'll don't bring out a parade. This whole 20 year journey has been a parade, with many surprises, gifts, excitement, laughter, cheers, tears, pain and gain.
Miracles In Progress has played a hugh role in it for the past 10 years. While I might sit in the background a lot here, its only because I got to grow up some here. The parade we have here at MIP isn't about me, doesn't even have to be about me. I sit on the side line and watch the parade today, see the show, of all the dynamics of those who come, those who go, and those who grow. I do have the best seat. I love watching the miracles this show provides. And I wonder, doesn't any one else out there, think we should take a parade down their street?
[Click here to start writing your quick reply.]One day at a time. Time sober is a beautiful thing, but don't ever let your guard down. This disease we carry lurks in the darkest corners and dark shadows. That being said, I am very happy and proud of you, that is quite an accomplishment. I just got out of a 90 day rehab and am proud of my 90 days. Your 20 years is an inspiration to me. One day I want to be there to, but for now I'm going to take it one day at a time. May God bless you and keep you in your recovery. If sobriety could not be imagined, but is being believed and lived, the shedding of this wet wool blanket and the fresh air I'll take in and the free movement of my limbs once out from under its weight is now still a hazy dream, one in which I will be standing, heart lifted and soul unleashed, mind burgeoning with thoughts of all life has to promise and all that I love in the world.
