My plan is now in full effect… it’s reality and no stopping it unless I die and I kinda want that to happen… but I don’t…
I’m moving back to Houston, going into sober living facility and getting my shit together… I planned on this a few weeks ago and have been delaying it due to one excuse or another, but this morning… I woke up in a mood and immediately wanted to use and I just said fuck it… either use or do the right thing. You did it dude… I know… so I called my parents (I’m 46 and still calling my parents for help which shows how lame I am) and told them to get me out of here ASAP.. I have the fundraiser on Thursday and then I’m ready to go… I’m leaving everything behind… taking clothes and computer and that’s it. The rest are memories that I can like with in my head.
Immediately, sadness overwhelmed me… sadness that isn’t regret but true sadness… that’s new. I can’t regret if I’m going to make a better life for myself. Regret is for relapses. Regrets are excuses. I fuck regrets.
So… I will ben on a plane to Houston in a few days and starting a new life in my old hometown. I am ready to set fire to this past year. Burn it all. And no fucking phoenix reference because I’m not rebuilding from these ashes. I am starting anew.
My friends in Missoula… I love you and love you and love you and love you and fucking miss you already… my friends in Houston… I need you and need you and need you and can’t wait to see you.
I’m going to be a sentimental, tearful, sad sack of shit these next few days. I’m sorry…
Day two of being clean, BTW.