That is 180 months, 780 weeks and 5,479 days. But really, I have only one day.
This day. Today.
That is all any of us have really.
In writing my books and speaking across the country I have been beyond blessed to have people email me and approach me to share their darkest secrets. People have admitted things to me that they have never shared with anyone else and gave voice to an issue they have struggled with for the first time. I guess because of my raw honesty, they felt connected enough to be honest themselves.
I cannot even begin to express what an honor it is to have strangers trust you with such personal disclosures. I am incredibly humbled to hold space with these brave people.
One of those people in particular emailed me about a year ago after her daughter died. She had read my book Blackout Girl and after her death, her mother decided to read it as well to find out why her daughter loved it so much. The mother found me on Facebook and I had the privilege to speak with her about her grief, her struggles and her own recovery from addiction. Those are the emails I live for, the ones where someone reaches out to me just to say thank you for letting me know I am not alone.
I found out yesterday that this amazing mother who suffered unspeakable loss succumbed to her own demons after 18 years clean and sober—she went back out, and like so many, she’s never coming back.
So today, I dedicate this one-day reprieve that I have to her memory because really, but for the grace of god go I.