It must've been indistinguishable from my typical drunk, because I don't remember any details at all. Just another day.
What I remember is having all those typically depressed and anxious thoughts during my withdrawal the next day. I thought to myself: You know, this can end. This can be the last one. And I just knew without a doubt it was true. I knew it was possible. And so that is the tiny kernel of faith I grasped onto and held onto during early sobriety. I trusted if I put one foot in front of the other, that there was a way out of that rut. It wasn't my first try at sobriety but I meant business finally
