The Night Everything Changed

January 16. I’m back at the bar. I’m looking to escape — but I can’t find anything.

And I’m pissed.

Visibly upset. Not because someone flaked or the party’s over, but because I couldn’t get what I was looking for. And in that moment, it hits me:

“Why the hell am I this mad? Why is this ruining my entire night?”

I left.

That was it. The anger. The craving. The realization. It snapped something loose in me. I didn’t want to be this guy anymore.

I went home.

And the next day, I stayed sober. Cold turkey.

“I was tired of dying. And I wanted to live again.”

That was the shift. That was the line in the sand.

🛑 No Turning Back

I made it through January. Then I thought —

Since I didn’t complete Dry January, maybe I’ll do February too. Make up for it. Keep going.

Then, on February 20, a close friend of mine passed away.

That locked it in.

This wasn’t just a phase. This wasn’t temporary. This had to be permanent. Life was too short. Too fragile. I had already tested fate more than enough.

So the battle began.

And it continues every day.

📊 Where I Stand Now

- 🗓️ 135 Days Sober

- ⚖️ 38 Pounds Lost

I’m not where I want to be yet — but I’m nowhere near where I was.

This blog isn’t about perfection. It’s about choosing to fight — even when it’s messy. Even when it hurts. Even when no one’s clapping for you.

If you’re here and you’re stuck, scared, or just sick of your own shit — you’re not alone.

Let’s fight like hell.

Let’s live.