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June 21 • Arrival TBD

Day 347

Acting out seems so far away. My addict places and my addict friends seem much closer to someone else's memory than to my own history. My hopelessness has been replaced by something that's growing into anticipation. The fears of economic ruin are fading into the reality of we'll-figure-it-out. But those are no longer the choices I'm facing each day; those are just happening as a result of a loving wife, a supportive family, and my recovery work and fellow workers.

The options I deal with every hour are ones of thought discipline, intimacy anxiety, disappointing people, and undefended honesty; these are the opportunities offered me to grow as a person, a husband, a son, a father. These are the crucial moments, the smallest of windows when I must decide to let something in, keep something out, or just enjoy the view. There are appropriate times for each, and I make wrong choices every day. But it hasn't been that long ago, about a year now, since I was embracing the bad little decisions and struggling to understand why I couldn't make good big decisions.

Today, I'm making so many more good little choices that the failures stop when they hit the ground, or fade into the fog as quickly as they show up, uninvited. Compared to a year ago, I could live here, maybe even thrive here, but staying here is not an option. I must continue on, continue to grow, continue to learn to love again, and learn to be loved.

If there were not so many pains involved, this could be fun.




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