The morning light in the kitchen felt a little too quiet, the kind of quiet that rings in your ears. For fifteen years, that space had been filled with a shared rhythm, but now, it was just the hum of the refrigerator and the clicking of tiny paws on the linoleum.
I looked down at Honey Bee. She looked back up with those big, soulful eyes, her tan coat glowing in the sun. She didn't understand why the house felt different, but she knew I was hurting. She stayed close, a warm, breathing anchor to the present moment.
"It’s just us now, Bee," I whispered.
Recovery isn't a straight line; it's a daily choice, especially when the weight of grief tries to pull you back toward old, easy escapes. But I had a business to run and a little dog who depended on me. I realized that "starting over" wasn't about forgetting the past—it was about honoring it by being the man she knew I could be.
Every morning became a ritual of survival and then, slowly, a ritual of living. We’d head out in the truck, Honey Bee riding shotgun, watching the world go by as we drove to chimney jobs and masonry sites. The work was hard, but the physical labor helped quiet the noise in my head. Each brick laid and each flue cleaned was a testament to staying sober, staying busy, and staying grounded.
On the hard days, when the cravings or the loneliness felt like a physical weight, I’d pull over. I’d look at Honey Bee, and I’d think about the strength it took to keep going. I’d think about my faith and the promise that I wasn't walking this path alone.
We started finding joy in the small things again—the "treasure" at a local thrift store, a win on a Saturday game, or just the way Honey Bee would tilt her head when I sang along to the radio. Recovery was my gift to myself, and my journey with Honey Bee was my way of keeping my heart open.
We weren't just surviving anymore. One day at a time, one mile at a time, we were finding our way back to the light.
Starting over at 52 doesn't mean forgetting her. It just means you're becoming the man she already believed you are. No matter what age we decide to get Sober and start over. It is still the absolute best decision we could make. I'm rooting for you and you're definitely not alone starting over later on
Hey Crissy thank you for the reply. Even one person telling me that shows me that there are people who care and that gives me a sense of normalcy. It's just hard and I am my own worst enemy by sabotaging my thoughts.
We care. And I believe in you
Well thank you Crissy I really appreciate that. The problem with a lot of sites is that I've experienced is you'll have people on here and I'm sure you know this too where you know as a people in addiction we're good at manipulating things and stuff like that but it's hard to find a true website a person that's actually telling you things because you don't know if they're just doing it to get something off of you especially if they know you have your own business and you're doing okay but you're struggling because people just take advantage and I'm too nice of a person I've helped so many people out when I need help myself and the same people don't know who you are when you're really going through it so you got to be careful cuz a lot of people just want something at the end of the day I've noticed even on this website by reading over things but that's just my opinion. Like even trying to talk to somebody and I know it's got to do a lot with trust and I have a hard time trusting people now because of what was done to me I'm trying to start all over I'd love to find somebody to hang with and to be around it's just so hard to find but thank you very much
I’m praying for you as a person who’s going through medical problems robbed of usual freedoms I get the loneliness … I can’t imagine the grief and suffering you feel.
I’m happy too that people like you are so honesty it makes me feel in good company. #
Thank you very much it helps just when I feel like giving up someone comes around to give me some encouragement. Thank God I have this little one around or things could of been so much different thanks again
Wonderful wisdom in your words and so glad you came back to the light. It is where we belong) one moment and one day at a time)
Thank you Fred
You are welcome, the very hardest thing in life is to say good bye to loved ones. Grieving is a slow process but we just have to feel then we heal and know that somehow life will go better. It does help to have a four legged furry person to guide the way though and God to help everything along)
Your exactly on point I wish it was allot easier