For my best friend.

I was thinking of writing you a movie, your story, so you can sit back and watch your life play out.

87 years in 145 minutes.

I would start by carefully slicing out the trauma, the cheating and pain.
As I walk through the neighbourhood that failed you, I see scenes you haven’t told me and that’s okay.

I wish I could have loved you then.

You watch the sunrise when you wish it didn’t and the sunset when you didn’t think you could.
In between I hear the gentle meow of your lifeline.

I wish I could have loved you then.

I meet people that took your love and left you empty. I smell the fire.
I taste the smoke.

I wish I could have loved you then.

Although writing your movie beyond 32 years is fiction, I’ll make sure to write you scenes full of love,
safe from the villain disguised as yourself.

As I begin to write myself in I stop.
I can leave the rest up to fate.

Because I can love you now. And I do.
I love you.


After my latest visit to my therapist a very interesting topic was brought up…

I aim to motherfucking please.

I knew that I always had issue with conflict and by issue I mean I would rather die that even have to witness conflict.

“Its okay walk all over me if you need to, no it doesn’t hurt! All good! As long as you’re happy!”


Although I’m still in the early stages of understanding why I am so scared of making others uncomfortable I have started to put together a list of scenarios where I have put my own feeling/wishes/wants/needs/desires aside just to ensure someone else didn’t feel any discomfort whatsoever.

  • Walking towards a crosswalk: I always slow down if I see a car coming, let the car go. God forbid it has to wait for me to cross. Or don’t cross the street at all, sometimes that is too stressful.
  • Never order food at Starbucks if there is someone behind you in the line. No one should ever have to wait for you. Also, if the cashier at Starbucks is attractive no food for you because they will think you’re fat and that makes them uncomfortable.

mentions Starbucks = basic.
  • Always be early when meeting someone in a public place, ensure that you don’t have to be the one to look for them, they have to look for you. Also, getting their early is a higher chance of getting a good table, I cannot deal with the stress of the other person being unhappy with where we have to sit (even though I could care less)
  • Leave a store if I see someone I know. This prevents from them having to decide whether or not they want to talk to me.
  • I have cried behind sunglasses on a full bus. I felt as though my 143 pound body was taking up so much space that could be better used for people that were in a rush to work or for an emergency. I didn’t belong there I was a burden.
  • Overhearing and/or being witness to arguments. I honestly feel the butterflies in my stomach throwing up while I type this.
  • I started cutting my thighs (self-harming) at 20 to avoid having to disapoint men in bed. oh yeah…thats fucked, I know.

I have a complete phobia of having sex. People pleasing could be why.

But that for another session.

Hail My Sobriety,


Everyone is doing life while I'm doing…anything but drinking.

These past few weeks I’ve been finding it difficult to be supportive of my friends. Whether it’s a break up or a promotion I feel like I am so out of the picture that I am incapable of being the friend that I want to be.

Could have something to do with the fact that I just spent three months in rehab? nah I’m definitely just a shitty friend.

Early sobriety feels like the most selfish time in my entire life. Every “day at a time” I am thinking about me, how can I keep me sober, how can I keep me content, how can I keep me occupied. To top this all off I am in no way contributing to society at all; I’m not working, I’m not supporting anyone, all I do to complain about how much I want to drink at hour long meetings and pat myself on the back for doing something that the majority of the population can do without even realizing.

I know, I know but I have an addiction, I need to give myself a break, give myself some time to work on myself.

Can I stop here for a second? if one more person reminds me that I’m not being lazy or selfish but I’m “working on myself ” because thats my job I’m beelining for the bar calm down that was a joke. But seriously what the fuck does working on myself mean?

Let’s say your average working day is 9:00am – 5:00pm. 8 hours.

LIST OF ‘WORKING ON SELF’ ACTIVITIES: meetings, exercise, read self help book, medical appointments, talk to sponsor, journaling, meditation.

Am I missing something, how the fuck do I fill 8 hours with that? is this the elusive “working on myself” solution list it? Please let me know if you have any other ideas.

I also understand that socializing with friends and enjoying life is also good for mental health therefore should be included in the list…but I’m sorry it kinda seems like a copout for being lazy to me.

As much as I’m dying to get back to a regular job I’ll try not to tell any of my 9-5 friends that.

Hail My Sobriety,


What’s the motherfuckin’ plan?

If one more person asks me what the plan is I’m going to fucking loose it. I feel compelled to throw together these I’m “going to (blank) meetings” and “checking in with (blank) people” to appease everyone else. I’m not lying but honestly… do I have to explain every single thing to everyone? I don’t have a plan, this isn’t something you tackle with a fucking plan. Addiction can see through a plan and plan will not stop me from drinking. I can have a plan for every waking moment of my day. This plan wont stop me from drinking if I decide I want to.

Of course these are thoughts I tend to keep to myself.

I have been told that I am great at presenting healthy, happy, content. That every time I go out and relapse everyone is shocked “what happened?!?!” “what upset you?!? you seemed totally okay!!”

I am, I was, I honestly have no idea.

I’m not going to lie and make up some sob story about some flashback I had or a run in I had with an ex but it’s honestly what people want to hear. People assume that alcoholics drink because they are sad or mad and don’t want to feel feelings.

When we really drink because we are…

…happy, surprise, anxious, depressed, envious, frightened, grateful, guilty, hopeful, jealous, loving, prideful, relieved, shameful, bored, calm, confused, contempt, empathic, excited, interested, joyous, nostalgic, romantic, sexy, sympathetic…

all. of. the. fucking. above.

plus some.

Hail Sobriety,


Am I the only one that finds having a sponsor…awkward?

I jumped on the AA train pretty fast after coming out of 90 day rehab. Honestly only because I felt like it would be a good way to meet sober people. A friend of fine from rehab was non stop on me about getting a sponsor. So I went to a beginners meeting and did just that. Nice girl, my age, kinda nerdy, 2 years sober.

A few coffee dates later I agree to do the steps because as I have heard a million times in AA meetings it is the only way to stay sober (at this point I’m not really buying it, but clearly my plan hasn’t been working.) Apparently now that we are doing the steps we have hit “real sponsor/sponsee status” which means I need to call her every day.

No problem I am an open book and have nothing to hid, be prepared for long phone calls and cat memes, we are officially bffs.

I absolutely dread calling her, I put it off I text her and say I’m busy and I will later (I don’t), I ignore her calls. Its like calling her is the equivalent of doing high school math homework (which I procrastinated right into an F.)

Why do I hate it so much? I think because it feels so unnatural (not that I have ever cared about natural relationships before – see previous post) I don’t like how we can’t really talk about her day and I can’t help her, it’s all about me. Its all about drinking, and there is always an AA quote that get snuck in there. Its a weird in-between of friend and therapist but there is no guideline for what is appropriate, what is expected and what is not. I get the “call if craving” but what if not craving, what are we chatting about?

As fucked as it sounds I want to get drunk with her so we can get the awkward part out of the way.

After four relapses since coming out of rehab I have freed her from her duties of trying to get me on the phone and track me down for a conversation. I don’t know if it was that we just didn’t click or that I just don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

Drunk texting her “I LOVERRR YOUUUU <3333” probably wasn’t a great idea either.

if only every guy I ever drunk texted thought this…

All I know is I already feel guilty enough for what I’m putting my friends through in my relapses I don’t want to feel guilty in recovery as well.

Hail My Sobriety,


My name is A and I am an alcoholic.


Lets skip the awkward sober introductions and get to the messy regretful past the lead me swear off the one thing that made me so happy.

me hungover at work.

Drinking had taken control over my life. My days were planned around what time the bars opened and what I had planned for the following day and whether I could handle doing it hungover. If it was something that scheduled at 10am I could stay out until 2am. This in bed by 2am rule really made me think that I had control. That I was making a choice in my drinking. I was choosing what time I wanted to be in bed, what time I wanted to be asleep. I was being responsible.

How did I not realized that my addictive mind was the one making me believe that?

Even when I was deep into my addiction, my goal was primarily to meet someone (ideally a man) who would make me feel wanted or desired. Therefore in the start of my addiction, drinking always had a goal with leaving the apartment to go and sit at a bar. Although, once I realized how easy it was to meet guys instantly online and I didn’t have to leave the comfort of my apartment! This meant not only did my drinking increase but the men frequency did as well. Within an hour I could have swiped right and have a guy buzzing my intercom to be let up.

The conversation in-between was almost carbon copy the same.

hey, what are you up to?”

“Not a whole lot, kind of just having a solo dance party in my kitchen. (total lies I was wasted chain smoking on my patio) Feel free to join if you want”

yeah maybe, where do you live?”

“Here is my address:…I have a fridge full of beer my cousin gave me yesterday as a late Christmas (or Birthday) present, haha!” (lier lier pants on fire)

And just like that. No matter what day of the week, I could have a guy over. Not only would the invitation be scripted but the whole interaction was planned out and almost identical every time. I would sit on the counter of my kitchen (where the apparent “solo dancing”was apparently taking place).

My music, his music, my music, beer, beer, whisky (“wow I totally forgot I even had this still!”*), beer, beer, make out

*pants very much on fire here

Surface conversations about topics I used to be passionate before I started becoming such a heavy drinker; podcasts, reading, politics. I usually would try and invite guys over who shared in these interests…sometimes it would fuck me over though because they would know more than me and I would be caught in feeling stupid. I recall foggily sneaking my phone in with me when I went to the bathroom to google the name of the president’s Chief of Staff…Someone whose Tinder profile labels them “American Political Junkie” should know.

Here really is the cherry on the top of the absolute mess of my life. I didn’t even want the sex, I don’t even crave or enjoy sex. I just wanted to be desired. But the tricky part is, once I have been desired, the expectation is sex.

So either I go through with sex, which means get EVEN more wasted or I say I don’t want sex, make him feel weird and confused because… wasn’t that the entire point of this whole thing? Most guys are not complete assholes so they will be “understanding” about the no sex thing, they will cuddle, I’ll give them a blowjob. la tee da.

I will be in absolute bliss, I have gotten everything I wanted. The rush of excitement and connection that I felt towards him will last long into the next week. This is just about where I find myself agonizing over our text message history and spending hours crafting texts, and analyzing his Instagram and Facebook.

and cue the crazy.

He’s on FB. send text. no reply. FB story? no. check insta, no message. insta story? (use my “business accounts”*) he’s out with friends.

*I studied Marketing in university so I have a few fake “business” accounts…

To text again or not text again? probably not a good idea… Four beers later decide DUH 100% GOOD IDEA! and then we either see him again and do the cycle all over again or we start fresh with a poor new soul.

Also: how do you explain to your friends that this guy you have to been talking up ALL fucking week probably isn’t interested in you. How do you admit that to them if you can hardly admit that to yourself?

Yeah, Borderline Personality Disorder is also a bitch.

Long, messy, embarrassing, pathetic story short: I was spending hours trying to get men to fall in love with me. I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t to impress men who didn’t want anything more than a one night stand. All while wasted. I was either trying to be this hot, intellectual, edgy girl or was crawling to work hungover, puking in the bathroom, hardly able to do my job. There was zero in between, I had no idea who I was anymore. Throw in the fact that I was constantly on the verge of an anxiety attack, helped along by my love of drunk texting. Once I had lost all self respect and ability to see a way out of the hole I had dug myself into I attempted suicide.

Trying to kill myself was the beginning of my path to recovery.

My name is A, I am an alcoholic and this is my story of recovery.

(fingers crossed because I’m not there yet.)

Hail My Sobriety,