Anonymous No More

droplets

I damn near forgot it was today when I got the text message from Mike asking if we could celebrate over dinner. Oh yeah. Six years sober today. Each year, I try to reflect on my life before and my … Continue reading →

Compound Interest

Flowers

Everyone was laughing except me. At this point, I had pasted a smile to my face, which now felt stiff and wooden. I probably looked like a monkey, tightened lips spread in a parody of human emotion. I’m usually pretty … Continue reading →

Where We Take Our Smoke Breaks

smoker

“That’s where we take smoke breaks,” Anna pointed toward an E-Z Up under the Eucalyptus, several yards from the facility’s cafeteria. The dust was high on the dirt roads, the decrepit blue van billowing trails behind us as we carted … Continue reading →

The Long Walk Back

road

I couldn’t have asked for a more gorgeous day off work. Sky so crisply blue it seemed tangible, clouds high and fluffy, temperature in the low seventies. A perfect North County day, as all the days seemed during that spring so many years … Continue reading →

I Would Change My Name

engagement

I was starting to realize I always notice smells. This room smelled of bureaucratic dust and the yeasty, lingeringly angry odor of people standing in line all day, exactly how I imagined the county recorder’s office to smell. We stood right … Continue reading →

Baking on a Friday Night

I don't have the right ramekins for mousse because do I look like I'm made of money?

I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but when I’m stressed out, I bake. Sometimes cookies or bread, but more often than not, I bake complex items that take on lives of their own. Dishes with several well-timed steps that take hours … Continue reading →

The Art of Holding Back

office

Looking back, I’m not sure why I was so nervous. Maybe it’s because it was my first “real” job after rehab and the wounds of alcoholism were still too raw, my self-image tender and peeling. Maybe it’s because I hadn’t … Continue reading →

Someone is Always Dying

Green Oak

Every few months, somebody dies. The first time it happened, I heard about it from a random Facebook check in. Posted on my recovery group page, I saw from a short message that Matt* had left the inpatient treatment facility … Continue reading →