one hundred and five days.

Fifteen weeks clean and sober. One hundred and five days. Zero units of alcohol. Zero narcotics. 

If someone said that this would be a possibility for me a year ago or even six months ago. If (in the world of cliques), someone had abruptly knocked on my door and said, 'you will be sober for one hundred and five days.' Firstly I'd be slightly dazed by the audacity of this unknown being, then mildly frightened by the mysterious stranger but finally (of course) I would have laughed, at this (seemingly) absolutely ridiculous statement. 

Some of the 105 days have been a lot longer than others. Some of the days I've had to fight harder and I will continue the fight. My recovery continues and it will always continue. Everyday I remember the buzzing head and sickness of my old life and that pushes me forwards. Being an addict means being constantly vigilant, constantly assessing every inch of my mood. My recovery will always come first because if it doesn't I risk the possibility that everything will sharply fall apart. 

But right now, I feel like I really like the sound of 'one hundred and five days clean and sober.' It's got a ring to it, but I think I'll like two hundred and five just as much.