May 20, 2024
It’s time to say goodbye. It’s taken 1000 days for me to get here. I had a lot of mess to clean up after you left, some wounds needed serious tending. I was too angry and didn’t want to waste another word in your name.
But unfortunately every day that I stay sober, I seem to get angrier at you. So consider this letter a cord cutting. I need you to know what you took from me and that the cost far exceeded your selfish promises. When I wake up with the sunrise, enthusiastically fresh and looking forward to the new day, a part of me simmers. With each run or hike I have to reckon with the life lost lying on the couch eating hot wings. F@&k. It’s difficult for me to take in the astonishing beauty of my new life because I can’t believe it was always just here waiting for me.
I can read whole books again and I’m studying for a new career. One that truly suits my soul, not your favourite fun-drunk role. You really had me playing the fool. While my mates started families and completed MBA’s, you had me popping bottles, snatching days of my life. You made me unsafe for people I loved. You convinced me that I hated exercise. That my body was disgusting. What an evil lie! You had no problem abusing this same body with your poison. Suspending my nervous system in perpetual anxiety. God, you even had me taking medication and thinking I’m depressed.
When I asked you to leave, the lies left too. The illusions came crashing down. I started to feel and you know what, I’m not moody! You are. I’m not inconsistent, you are! I’m not volatile or lazy, or stupid. You are.
I can’t believe I wasted so much time on you but these scars tattooed in your name, remind me to live all out. It’s still difficult for me to ameliorate all this beauty but I’ve learnt how to heal one day at a time. This next chapter is ALL mine. I take it with both hands and a full heart. I breathe in life, I breathe out shame.
This time I’m not asking you. Oh no, this time I am letting go.
Goodbye forever.
Goodbye alcohol.
