The last few days have been rather uneventful. A lot of time spent alone, which is what my work requires. I have a tendency to feel bored or lonely. But there was a time at the beginning of my recovery I would have given anything to have a boring day to myself. My sober journey began in the mental health ward of a jail after a suicide attempt. I was locked in a freezing cold, concrete room wearing a paper smock. At that moment, the idea of a boring day outside those walls sounded pretty good. When my sober life becomes routine, I need to remember where I came from. April 6, 2016 was supposed to be the date on my tombstone. Instead, it’s the day my life began. I must never forget that.