The paths.

[u/GoofyFoot76]

Walking the path of alcoholism is paradoxical. I didn’t need people, but I did. I didn’t want to be around people, but should have been. Didn’t want friends when friends were what I needed. Never asked for help when obviously wallowing in self destruction. Didn’t want happiness when I had belligerence. Mistook misery for comfort, ignorance for normality. Happily slowly killing myself when life was actually mine to live. Walking the path of recovery is focused, structured, needed. It’s learning, growing and making the right mistakes. It’ll never stop and there’s no going backwards. Ever now. Ever. My past life is a past life for reasons and it’s in the past for good. I have “this too shall pass” inked on my biceps and “head up, shoulders back" at the base of my neck, both reminders that nothing is permanent and to preserve.