Year 9. And Year 1.

I quit drinking on July 3, 2017.

It’s been 8 years since I’ve had a drop of alcohol.

I wasn’t a daily drinker or even a weekly drinker.

But most of the time when I drank, I DRANK.

When I hit my mid-forties (I’m 55 now), smaller amounts of alcohol started affecting my body differently.

It would only take 2 glasses of wine for me to have trouble remembering things the next day.

Like I couldn’t recall what book I had read to the kids the night before. And it made me super tired.

So I made the decision to quit.

But I haven’t been completely sober for eight years.

Marijuana is for sure my “drug of choice.”

I smoked a lot of weed before I got married.

Then I completely stopped.

I didn’t smoke for five or six years until I became friends with a couple of parents from preschool who partook, and I occasionally smoked with them in the summer.

Fast forward to the beginning of my divorce, when I spent the first week without the kids in the summer of 2020.

I was freaking out. I’d never been away from them for more than a couple of days.

My parents were away on vacation in North Carolina, and I stayed at their house for the week while the kids were home with my ex-husband.

A friend gave me a big pre-rolled joint.

It was an awesome week. 😂

Occasional smoking led to more regular smoking off and on over the last couple of years.

About 2 years into my divorce, I was diagnosed with ADHD.

I started taking medication (Vyvanse).

It helped with focus, but it also really messed with my sleep.

To counteract my sleep issues, I did what any normal person who can’t really do anything in moderation did…

I started smoking more weed so I could sleep.

After about six months of not being able to sleep (and also grinding the crap out of my teeth), and taking my own Vyvanse/weed cocktail every day, I stopped taking the ADHD medication.

But I didn’t stop smoking weed.

Until a few weeks ago.

I don’t remember exactly the last time I smoked. It wasn’t a premeditated decision to stop.

It was more like I woke up one day and my brain just said, “It’s time.”

I didn’t pay attention to the date or even what day of the week it was.

It was sometime in the middle of June.

I’m not going to lie. I miss how it mellows out my brain.

But like most things that alter my brain, I can’t do it in moderation.

No matter how hard I try, my brain is all-or-nothing.

So I don’t think about never being able to do it again for the rest of my life.

I just think about today.

The first couple days were hard. And two days ago I almost caved.

But I didn’t.

When my brain starts talking crazy and telling me “just one time will be okay” I focus on the things that have changed already.

My lungs feel so much better. I’ve lost about 10 pounds without even really trying.

I’m not worried about the kids finding anything, and the quality of my sleep is starting to improve.

When I want relief in the moment I focus hard-core on Future Me.

I’m definitely not out of the woods yet, but I’m getting closer to a clearing that opens up onto a big, sunny meadow.

Since July 3 is my official no-drinking anniversary, I’m just gonna go ahead and make it my no-smoking anniversary, too.

Because for me, freedom from substances feels like a pretty solid way to celebrate Independence Day.