28/08/2026
๐ญ,๐ณ๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฏ๐ฒ๐ฟ. ๐๐ป๐ฑ ๐๐ฒ๐, ๐๐ผ๐บ๐ฒ๐๐ถ๐บ๐ฒ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ถ๐น๐น ๐บ๐ถ๐๐ ๐ฑ๐ฟ๐ถ๐ป๐ธ๐ถ๐ป๐ด.
There. I said it.
I donโt miss ๐๐ drinking.
I donโt miss the hangovers. The puffy face. The bloating. The anxiety. The self-loathing. Or waking up promising myself that today would be different.
But sometimes I miss the ๐๐
๐๐ of drinking.
I see people having long lazy lunches in the sunshine with a chilled glass of white. A lovely meal with a bottle of red. A couple of drinks with friends.
And occasionally I think, ๐ฎ๐๐
, ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐.
But hereโs the thing.
I couldnโt do that.
My couple of glasses wouldnโt end when lunch ended.
Iโd have more. Then Iโd make sure I picked up a bottle on the way home and Iโd carry on.
Because for me, one or two was never really the goal.
And I know that now.
Today marks ๐ญ,๐ณ๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐ป๐ฐ๐ฒ ๐ ๐น๐ฎ๐๐ ๐ฑ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ป๐ธ ๐ฎ๐น๐ฐ๐ผ๐ต๐ผ๐น.
I still count the days but sobriety doesnโt feel like something Iโm constantly ๐
๐๐๐๐ anymore.
Itโs simply part of who I am.
I donโt wake up every morning choosing not to drink. Most days I donโt think about alcohol at all.
But Iโll never become complacent about what it took to get here or forget where drinking took me.
So yes, sometimes I miss the romantic idea of a glass of wine.
But I choose my life now.
I choose my mornings.
I choose my health.
I choose being present.
I choose remembering the night before.
I choose being in control.
๐ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ผ๐ผ๐๐ฒ ๐ต๐ฒ๐ฎ๐น๐๐ต ๐ผ๐๐ฒ๐ฟ ๐ต๐ฎ๐ป๐ด๐ผ๐๐ฒ๐ฟ๐. ๐๐๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ ๐๐ถ๐ป๐ด๐น๐ฒ ๐๐ถ๐บ๐ฒ.
1,700 days. ๐
And Iโm bloody proud of every one of them.
24/08/2026
17/08/2026