Alcoholic peace. I’ve worked my ass off for this.

I just sat down on my couch.

Max went to sleep a few minutes ago, after nursing and snuggling into me. I wanted to rock him all the way to sleep so I could keep kissing his forehead, but I knew if I did, he wouldn’t stay asleep when I put him in his crib.

This room is pretty unglamorous.

There’s an extra television on the floor that we haven’t figured out what to do with. In front of the cable box is a pile of DVD’s that fell from the shelf. An overdue library book sits on the coffee table with an empty dish stacked on top of it. We haven’t gotten around to getting a curtain for the back door so a brown and orange towel is hanging there.

We created this.

Despicable Me is on our TV. My 2 daughters are in the living room. David and I sit across from each other. Lula is laughing. David and I look at each other and laugh. We’re so fond of her.

We bought this house 10 years ago. This is our living room. This is our family. Each person has their own destinies and secrets and longings.  We belong together.

I had no idea this would happen

On March 14, 1993 I woke up after a weekend of drinking and doing drugs. I had planned not to drink that weekend. On Friday afternoon someone handed me a brown glass bottle of beer. I didn’t stop drinking until I woke on Sunday.

There was no drama

No dead bodies next to me in a hotel room in Mexico. No jail cell. It was the day after my brother’s birthday. He was the only person in my family I wasn’t pissed at. I was ashamed that I forgot his birthday.

I haven’t drank since

In 19 years I’ve worked my ass off to come back to my Self. Relentlessly I’ve sought a deeper spiritual connection.

I’ve written a novel. I’ve been all over the country, to a few other countries, created several failed businesses and 2 successful ones, graduated from college, loved a few cats and 2 dogs, and learned how to love my parents.

The best part

I am most proud of the feeling I have in this living room right now. Lula’s head is on my arm while I type; her legs are curled underneath her, her knees spooning my knees.

Jordan is here for the 4th time this week, just hanging out. She seems happy.

David is across the room from me. I know him so well I think I would recognize him by the way he scratches his eyebrows even if I couldn’t see his face.

We’ve been married 13 years. We have 3 whole people who count on us and look to us for guidance, direction, and for someone to blame for their problems.

When I was drinking I wanted a connection with God, though I didn’t know that’s what it was. I wanted to feel useful. I wanted my life to matter. I wanted to belong.

I wanted this feeling right here.



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