Here's some snippets from my journal posted on the last day I drank:
"Mary is smoking and here sits a bottle of Bud, and here lies my flaccid belly on my legs. Life's a bitch. What about me? I've fallen apart. All my dreams and good intentions left in the mountains. I'm really angry that I am left holding the bag for all the shit in our lives.... It doesn't appear I have any options. We are becoming low-life scums. Life's a bitch."
I edited out a lot of complaining about my husband. I was pretty focused on him. I blamed him for the fact that I was living in Denver, Colorado - which I thought was the worst place on earth. I thought I was drinking because I was in Denver. As if I hadn't been drinking every single day for eighteen years prior! I had no idea that the next day I would make the call to AA and find a home in AA and in Denver, Colorado. A home unlike any I had never known before.
When I was sober five years, a friend and I left an AA dance and drove to Lookout Mountain. I looked out over this city and realized for the first time that it was Home, with a capital H. Because I got sober here. I had never felt that anyplace was home prior to this. I moved around a lot and always felt like a transplant. But because I got sober in Denver, this was my Real Home. I learned my way around this city by carrying a folding city map and going to AA meetings all over town.
My daughter said it better than I can right now. She posted this on facebook the other day: "Life is filled w/ choices, I am so grateful for all those bad choices I've made in the past bcuz TODAY I walk strong & carry a powerful message of REAL hope & courage to people crying where I once cried."
That's my girl.
I am so grateful for every bad choice I have ever made because God used them to bring me to this place. And I like it here A LOT!