A Nutty Year, but I’m Grateful!

When I was in 8^th grade I remember the cool couples celebrating their 3-month anniversary. I wanted to point out, somewhat smugly, that an anniversary can only be celebrated in years. The Latin root of the word literally means “of the year.” Considering I had braces on my teeth, bulky glasses so I could see, and the body shape of a swizzle stick, I figured no one would listen to a kid that can’t get a date much less a succession of dates that leads to months. Who was I to mention meaningful anniversaries. I remained silent, smugly silent, and let the stupid, cool people celebrate their stupid “month-a-versaries.”

A year later, I would officially begin my drinking career. A career that took 28 anniversaries to end. When I quit drinking, for the first time, I put stock in an anniversary. I wanted to make it one full year. Without that anniversary and the ones that followed, I would not be celebrating another anniversary. Today, May 31^st , marks an important celebration for me. A celebration that is second only to my wedding anniversary on Dec. 14^th.  The Grateful Nuts launched exactly one year ago. Thanks to you, our dear readers, I can say with heartfelt joy and zero smugness, “Happy Anniversary!”

The Start of the Adventure

For me, the journey of the Grateful Nuts is a lot like my journey in my first year of sobriety. There have been a ton of ups and downs, more than a few mistakes on my part, and several people who kept giving me hope and support. When I was sure that getting sober was a waste of time, a good friend of mine dropped the small spark of an idea into my brain that I could make it through one day without drinking. That spark of hope started me on the life-long path of sobriety. Similarly, the formulation of the Grateful Nuts would have never been possible without a spark of an idea, and a whole lotta work from my wife, Nina.

The thought of writing a blog had been rolling around in both of our heads for years. We both knew we wanted to write something, and we quickly agreed we should share our recovery stories. My thoughts on how to do that were laughable. I just wanted to figure out a way to post a word document on the web. That’s it. My grand plan. Fortunately, Nina understood the nature of blogs and put countless hours into creating the Grateful Nuts while I sat around trying to figure out something to write. It was a mirror image of my first year in sobriety.

I knew I wanted to stay sober that first year. I had absolutely no idea how to do that or that it would require work. My vision of sobriety included being rich from all the money I would save not buying booze, saving others from the evils of drinking whether they wanted to be saved or not, and living a rainbow and unicorn filled life of leisure. I was stunned when I found out that life was still life. Most people could care less that I was sober. I was still a moderately successful schoolteacher who makes very little income. And, unicorns don’t exist. Why wouldn’t the world, or at least the people in my part of it, change to the way I wanted it?

At multiple points, I was on the road to relapse and someone would step in and put me back on the right path. Most often, my sponsor stepped in to deflate my ego, inject reality into my pink-cloud world, or laugh at the ridiculous thoughts my still drug-damaged brain conjured. However, for me it took a village of people in long-term recovery to keep my attempt at sobriety from crashing at every turn in the road.

Not All Learned Lessons Transfer

I’d like to think that I had learned a thing or two in sobriety that would help with the creation of the Grateful Nuts, but the evidence keeps pointing to NO. While Nina was designing the website, figuring out ways to format blog posts, and looking into the economics of what we hoped to do, I spent my hours writing a few jokes, dreaming of grandeur, and thinking of ways to make Nina’s life more miserable. Honestly, it was just that bad. My largest contribution in the early days of the blog was calling my former brother-in-law and asking him if he knew someone who could draw a logo for us. In one of his many acts of kindness, he volunteered to create the logo from a design that Nina had envisioned. I didn’t even come up with a concept for our blog.

With no knowledge of how any of this works, I already envisioned an audio version of our blog posts, a podcast, and a stand-up comedy career. If I had any knowledge of anything, and 80 hours a week to work solely on the blog, my “vision” would still have been blurred back to reality. Fortunately, Nina became my corrective lenses and kept our blog on the right road instead of heading off a cliff on the edge of my mountain of fantasies. Because of her hard work, we created a blog that accomplishes our personal mission of reaching out to many people seeking recovery, and a product that we are proud to say we created. My first year sober was different in that respect.

My Sober Anniversary

Somewhere between six and nine months of sobriety, I hit a wall. Perhaps, I was bored. Perhaps, I crashed landed from my pink cloud and saw a true version of my life. Whatever the reason, I quit being excited about the gift of being sober. Going to meetings became a chore instead of joy. Picking up chips to mark my time in sobriety seemed useless. The routine of living one day at a time felt like a prison sentence instead of freedom. Anyone who knows anything about relapse can tell you that I was teetering on the edge.

Instead of further tempting fate by doing slow, wistful drive-bys of liquor stores, I found new ways to get excited about being sober. I began working on a master’s degree in mental health counseling. Instead of sitting in meetings waiting for a wave of sober thoughts to wash over me, I started chairing meetings. (That last idea like most that I have was not mine AT ALL.) I spent hours talking with people new to sobriety as well as those who had years of experience. Instead of sitting in one spot, I went to meetings out of town to get more perspectives of living life sober.

I began to take realistic steps to improve my life instead of dreaming about what my life could be if I had not been a drunk. Still, I looked at my approaching anniversary in recovery as a lack-luster mark eclipsed by people who I respected and had decades more time. Unlike many people who celebrate the joy of that first year sober, I picked up my first medallion quietly at a small meeting.

Reasons to Celebrate This Anniversary

Today, I am in full celebration mode. I am so excited about how far our dream of writing a blog has come! I figured that we would be a speck of dust screaming into a virtual universe only to be drowned by cat videos. (No angry letters, please. I watch the cat videos, too.) Instead, we have met thousands of really cool people in person and virtually. We can count friends in sobriety on almost every continent. (Still, waiting on you, Antarctica.) We have touched others’ lives, made people laugh so hard they shot milk out of their noses, and had the chance to share others’ stories along with our own. While there have been no unicorns or rainbows during the late nights and hours staring at a computer. There have always been comments that landed at the right time to keep us going.

The journey has not been easy. We both work, we are both in school, and we still have normal tasks of everyday living to complete. Somehow, we have always found time to make sure a blog post makes it out each week, even though, occasionally a day late. Since we started the blog, we have faced the sadness of losing beloved pets and the struggle of mental health flare-ups in our family. With the help of others, we have made it through all of the challenges and kept moving forward. For me, it is a reminder of how the spiritual tools I use to stay sober can also be tools to improve my life.

When I picked up that anniversary medallion almost nine years ago, I didn’t know what to expect for the future of my recovery. At the time, I felt like it was just another day. There was no feeling of pride in an accomplishment. I didn’t worry that this would be the high tide mark of my recovery. On that day, I didn’t see a reason to celebrate. Even though I had completely changed my life, I was underwhelmed. All I knew, then, is that I couldn’t count on tomorrow and today seemed boring.

Now, thinking about how far we have come as The Grateful Nuts, I am overjoyed. I never imagined we would reach so many people. The thought of people returning each week to read something I have written is beyond my belief. While I still have occasional fleeting thoughts of grandeur, I am amazed each day that I get to be a part of something that is meaningful to others. Unlike my first anniversary in recovery, I have no ambivalent feelings. I am excited about the possibilities that await, and the plans we have in motion for The Grateful Nuts. I also can say with certainty that nothing about what lies ahead will be boring.