And sometimes I get flashbacks of the awful situations I've landed. Like waking up in the courtyard of a fenced church, to children and parents shuffling in for Sunday morning service. It was the only safe place for me to sleep at the time. I was homeless and lost, and somehow just wondering where I could get the next drink before the shakes and anxiety really set it. I'd borrow pints of liquor from the 24 hour liquor just around the corner. I had gone into this Indian man's store and paid for so much liquor in a span of 3 months, he'd just loan it out to me until I had gotten paid again. And so that's where I stumbled. And I lived my life like that for months until the church paid for me a ticket back home. Detoxing from alcohol on a greyhound all the way from LA to Jacksonville FL. I just don't ever want to live like that or experience that level of trauma again. I owe to God some days, even though I struggle on and off with the relationship. But I'd never gotten to this point without something greater than me. I'm still alive. And I'm grateful for it. And I'm happy to be coming up on a week sober again.
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