This time last week, I was planning to go out.
I was thinking about having a drink. I obviously didn’t know where that decision would eventually take me or how I would feel in the days that followed.
Today is Day 7.
It’s strange looking back at the person I was only one week ago because I’m still that person. Seven days haven’t magically changed me. I’m still tired sometimes. I’m still dealing with regret. I’m still trying to repair things, understand myself and figure out what recovery actually looks like this time.
But my days already look a little different.
I’ve gone to meetings. I’ve prayed. I’ve started writing. I’ve been thinking about hobbies, reading again and what I actually want my life to look like. I’ve spent more time being present with the people I love. And I’ve started trying to be a little kinder to myself.
None of that sounds particularly extraordinary.
But compared to where my head was this time last week, it feels like something.
I don’t know what Day 30 looks like yet. Or Day 100. I’m trying not to get too far ahead of myself.
Today is Day 7.
And today, I don’t want to escape my life.
I want to build one I want to stay for.
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