“Mistakes were made and consequences ensued.”
Mantra of my life for the last few years. It seems like it has been nothing but a string of mistakes stuck together. In the overall scheme of things, the mistakes make up a surprisingly small amount of time.
I either have relapsed twice, or I have been sober for most of the past year. I choose the one that makes me sound like less of a defeatist.
I have the physical scars to prove that I walked through hell and the bad days to prove to myself that hell is never far enough away that a few bad decisions couldn’t lead me straight back.
So, I sit here, on a Friday night, knee deep in a book, and contemplating the meaning of my journey.
There were consequences and lessons learned.