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    I’m staring down a rare few days of free time. No plans, no travel, no work deadlines lingering, nada. I’m a bit of a shark, compelled always to keep moving, so this is a challenge. Though I won’t do it, I of course thought of drinking when conceptualizing the weekend earlier today. The suggestion that my mind unhelpfully offered was to hole up, close the blinds, get a proper drunk on, and, come Tuesday, reenter the fold with no one hip to a shred of it. I am decently confident that my sobriety can survive the coming days, but sort of irked that I am still prone to entertain, even if just for a moment, the ideas that sneaking away could be an option, that I could maybe get away with it, and that clandestine drinks somehow don’t count.

    Scavenging for loopholes and looking to get away with the illicit is second nature when I am drinking, but it feels dangerously out of place in my sober life. I’ve spent much of my life suckered into my own bizarrely unconvincing schemes in the interest of keeping the habit satisfied & justified, and as long as I was drunk or about to be, I was a perfect and willing mark. Not a life of the highest integrity.

    This new way of life and the honesty it demands is something else entirely. One of the greatest reliefs of my sobriety is the ability to be transparent again, and to put to rest the daily lies and manipulations that my drinking life demanded. Still getting used to the radical simplicity of recovery, but happy to leave the mind games behind.

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