When I was a kid Sundays were my favorite days of the week. The whole family was home, we’d get a huge, hot breakfast, and the day was ours. No one had to work, we didn’t have school, and they were pressure-free days. Sundays didn’t look quite that way when I was drinking. I get anxious even writing about this because those days were panic-filled and nightmarish. One of the worst feelings in the world is waking up (or coming to) not knowing what you did the night before but 100% positive that it was bad. Like awful. One Sunday morning I woke up to see that I’d parked in the yard. Once I woke up to 46 texts asking if I remembered getting kicked out of the bar and cussing out the bouncer. One Sunday I woke up in Panama I shit you not. Piecing together what I did and who I pissed off the night before isn’t a very positive way to start the day. Now my Sundays are a lot like the ones I had as a kid. Chill, content, and golden. I also get to see my #sisters at our #sobersisterssupportgroup each week and that is my favorite part of the day. Happy Sunday, sober family. Keep it simple today.
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