6.30.25
Where did June go? I had to count on my fingers yesterday to figure out how many months I’ve been sober. It’s funny how time moves—quietly, steadily—when you’re not chasing or running from something. Naturally, this triggered a relapse nightmare last night. They seem to go hand in hand.
But it didn’t shake me. I woke up, said “fuck that,” and went straight into my morning routine—readings, meditation, grounding. It felt good not to spiral or dwell in the what ifs. The more I use the tools I’ve learned in recovery, the more I see how they actually work. They bring peace. Not a loud or flashy peace, just a calm knowing that I can choose differently.
Today, I reminded myself: “Thy will, not mine.” Those four words help me get out of my own way and hand things over to something greater than me. I guess that’s what faith looks like for me now—not some big lightning bolt moment, but quiet trust in the process. In myself. In my Higher Power.
Another day sober. Another day I choose peace.
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