In a few weeks, I'll be 6 years. This year for me has been marked by huge, HUGE amounts of progress in my therapy, getting at the deep deep trauma that drove me to addiction in the first place and still wrecks my life even in sobriety. In the past few months, I've reached a place where I'm closer to true mental, emotional, and spiritual wellness than ever. Since birth.

My brother has a lot of similar struggles. As expected, since we're brothers, and we had the same dysfunctional parents. That dynamic drove a wedge between us, as our parents triangulated and pit us against each other, and in the past few years we've finally started talking and getting to know each other and compare notes in our respective therapies. It's been great, honestly. I feel like I lost my parents but gained my brother, and honestly I'm thrilled. And it started because he wanted to stop drinking too, and started calling me for support in that because he figured I already did it, and might have some tips. He's got a sponsor too now, and seems to be on the right track, and I'm happy for him.

We live about three hours' drive apart, and this weekend we arranged for me to visit for the first time at his new place. He even helped pay for some car repairs I needed in order to make the trip, which I wouldn't have been able to pay for otherwise. (He has a well-paying tech job, I'm in the service industry). And that was already making me feel indebted. Being too poor to pay my own way has been one of the number one triggers for me, of drinking and every other self-destructive habit up to and including the worst. But my therapy progress kicked in and I made it through with my self-worth intact. He's happy to do it. He offered. He wants to. He cares more about seeing me than about the money. It's true, and I believe it.

But then, forty minutes away from his place, my tire blew. Just shredded. I had everything I needed to change it except a tire iron - he called a friend who lived nearby and she brought me one. I changed my tire, was back on the road.

Then, twenty minutes away, the spare goes flat. He puts the kids into his car and brings an air pump, but it won't take air - big hole. We take my old tire and bring it to a tire place, minutes before it closes, and they say they'll look at it first thing in the morning. Needless to say, I'm not going to pay for any of this, because I can't. I have to make rent next week, if I ever make it home. My brother didn't hesitate. He still cares more about seeing me than about the money. He knows what my life is right now. He knows what he has and how much he can afford.

We have dinner and the he and I talk about our therapies and sobriety and stuff while the kids play, and a while later after the kids are in bed, and then it gets to be grownup bedtime and he goes to his room and I get into the futon, and... of course I can't sleep. Why the fuck would I be able to sleep. That's not a reasonable thing to expect. I mean... My car is still out there on the highway, with three tires on.

And while he's had lapses in past few years, he's on a good stretch. There fridge is full of non-alcoholic beers. And without my car and not knowing the neighborhood, there's no way to get any from elsewhere. So there's zero chance I drink tonight even if I wanted to. I'm safe.

But there's a difference between safety and contentment. I am not content. I'm experiencing the feelings and adversities that used to make me need to drink. And I'm still figuring out what to do with those feelings. Yes I've still made progress this year. It's probably what made it possible for me to make it here, to my brother's futon, without breaking down and doing something distinctly regretable. But progress is not perfection. And I still need a lot of practice dealing with this shit directly, mindfully, in the moment, rather than shoving it aside so it festers or exploding in utter despair.

So far I've got... listening to Anxiety by Black Eyed Peas. I don't know why but that's the song that is getting me through this. And writing this post.

That's my story today. I'm not drinking tonight. With all of you.