On the heels of all of these thoughts on my addiction and
recovery and sobriety, I started thinking about how I feel about my
history of using. And I feel a need to state here, strongly and
clearly, and in no uncertain terms, that I have no regrets
about my past behavior. None. If I could do it all over again, I
wouldn't do it any differently. Even the very worst moments, where I
hurt myself badly or scared myself half-to-death or nearly died, I'm
still grateful for. Because each and every one of them taught me
valuable lessons that I wouldn't have learned any other way, and I have
in each instance become a better person for having learned them.
And
those scary moments were few and far between. The vast majority of the
years I spent drunk and high, I laughed my ass off and just had a
wonderful time. I learned a lot about myself through those experiences,
and I feel lucky and privileged to have had the chance to spend so much
of my life feeling happy and stimulated and satisfied. I've had a
great run of it up to this point. But it's just becoming a little old, a
little stale, a little tired. And so am I. After all these years,
it's taking more and more of a toll on me than it ever has before, right
as I'm getting less and less out of it than I used to. And as I get
older, and my priorities for what I want out of life shift from more
immediate pleasures to bigger-and-better things, it's just becoming less
and less worth it for me to keep going like this.
And I always knew that it would have to end one day. And I always knew there would be a price to pay for all those years of self-indulgence. And I always knew that this was that price. And I always knew that one day I would pay it. And now that this day seems to finally be coming around, I am paying it. Gladly.
But I'm still glad I did it, too.
And I wouldn't change a thing.
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