Woke up this morning feeling hungover from a drunk dream. I have a few 24 hours under my belt but my disease still likes to remind me how cunning, baffling, and powerful it is.
I have a terminal disease. If left untreated, it will kill me. I am immensely grateful for my sobriety. It has allowed me to experience some amazing parts of life. But that does not mean I do not hate this disease. I hate the pain it has caused me and I hate watching others suffer from it. At times like this, that hate is a tool. It is motivation to not give up the fight.
Every single person here is worthy of a new way of life. You are worthy of support and love. You did not choose this disease but you do have a choice whether to live with the disease or be consumed by it.
You are not beyond hope.
My disease tried to control me this morning. It tried to undermine my self-worth and lead me down a self-destructive path. Like every morning for many years, I have a choice to make. Some days that choice is easy.
And some days I have to tell my disease to go eff off!